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"
I
know
,
"
I
replied
.
We
drove
to
Portland
,
making
small
talk
.
Adam
played
me
snippets
of
bands
he
liked
,
a
Swedish
pop
trio
that
sounded
monotonous
but
then
some
Icelandic
art
band
that
was
quite
beautiful
.
We
got
a
little
lost
downtown
and
made
it
to
the
concert
hall
with
only
a
few
minutes
to
spare
.
Our
seats
were
in
the
balcony
.
Nosebleeds
.
But
you
don
’
t
go
to
Yo
-
Yo
Ma
for
the
view
,
and
the
sound
was
incredible
.
That
man
has
a
way
of
making
the
cello
sound
like
a
crying
woman
one
minute
,
a
laughing
child
the
next
.
Listening
to
him
,
I
’
m
always
reminded
of
why
I
started
playing
cello
in
the
first
place
—
that
there
is
something
so
human
and
expressive
about
it
.
When
the
concert
started
,
I
peered
at
Adam
out
of
the
corner
of
my
eye
.
He
seemed
good
-
natured
enough
about
the
whole
thing
,
but
he
kept
looking
at
his
program
,
probably
counting
off
the
movements
until
intermission
.
I
worried
that
he
was
bored
,
but
after
a
while
I
got
too
caught
up
in
the
music
to
care
.
Then
,
when
Yo
-
Yo
Ma
played
"
Le
Grand
Tango
,
"
Adam
reached
over
and
grasped
my
hand
.
In
any
other
context
,
this
would
have
been
cheesy
,
the
old
yawn
-
and
-
cop
-
a
-
feel
move
.
But
Adam
wasn
’
t
looking
at
me
.
His
eyes
were
closed
and
he
was
swaying
slightly
in
his
seat
.
He
was
lost
in
the
music
,
too
.
I
squeezed
his
hand
back
and
we
sat
there
like
that
for
the
rest
of
the
concert
.
Afterward
,
we
bought
coffees
and
doughnuts
and
walked
along
the
river
.
It
was
misting
and
he
took
off
his
suit
jacket
and
draped
it
over
my
shoulders
.
"
You
didn
’
t
really
get
those
tickets
from
a
family
friend
,
did
you
?
"
I
asked
.
I
thought
he
would
laugh
or
throw
up
his
arm
in
mock
surrender
like
he
did
when
I
beat
him
in
an
argument
.
But
he
looked
straight
at
me
,
so
I
could
see
the
green
and
browns
and
grays
swimming
around
in
his
irises
.
He
shook
his
head
.
"
That
was
two
weeks
of
pizza
-
delivery
tips
,
"
he
admitted
.
I
stopped
walking
.
I
could
hear
the
water
lapping
below
.
"
Why
?
"
I
asked
.
"
Why
me
?
"
