text: Note: Contains references to sexual harassment and bisexual relationship. Elisa was slowly walking through the church hall, approaching the stairs leading up to the church balcony, carrying a bag full of printed sheet music. As of late, the balcony had been her second chosen home, a place to withdraw to or even to lock herself up from the outside world during practice. She yearned for the safety it provided from external impulses, and the clear advantage of not being seen even while being heard. She was acting as a partial replacement of the respected minister of music and organist Mr. McLeod, after he had succumbed to the complications of pneumonia. The post of worship organist (occasionally involving singing as well) was created for Elisa by Pastor Daniel Morrison. This part-time service was rewarded with a certain sum, but her full employment was that of music teacher at the private school of a neighbouring town. Pastor Morrison’s wife, Bessie, who took over the duties of minister of music after Mr. McLeod had passed away, was primarily responsible for organising musical service and directing the choir. Bessie had also introduced Elisa into the ceremonial aspects of worship music and conducted rigorous practice lessons with her. Pastor Morrison - an energetic man in his late forties, whom she had known since adolescence and called him Pastor Dan in private - greatly appreciated Elisa's “precise skills” as he put it, as well as the “meticulous care with which she executed her musical duties”, as he wrote in his recommendation of Elisa to the council of elders.. This was the first time Elisa would play all through the communion service - earlier this was also reserved for Bessie. Despite her devotion, Elisa did occasionally find Pastor Dan’s preferences odd. He seemed to have a hang-up of not allowing any secular music to be played during church services, not even classical instrumental pieces such as a slow concerto movement, despite having had some musical training himself. The explanation was that such pieces were originally composed as entertainment music, and were reserced for the concert hall. Elisa found this rigid distinction rather strange, but she complied. She suspected that Pastor Dan's views echoed those of Bessie, who had on numerous occassions voiced the same views with an even stronger conviction. Pastor Dan also had a specific attitude concerning clothing and made Elisa wear modest outfits during services, as she was to set a good example. This meant wearing only skirts or dresses reaching below the knee during worship. Now Elisa was fine with dressing in this manner, being a naturally modest person herself, and this tradicionalist attitude provided something of a strong framework for her often wandering, reflective mind, as did the hard work she had to put into becoming an organist and singer. For that particular service in early March - so close to her approaching birthday - she was wearing a classical white shirt with a sweater, modest black skirt, black tights and flat-heeled shoes. She had her shoulder-length light brown hair down, with a single braid in the middle reaching slightly below the back of her neck. Elisa’s parents had moved to Aberdeenshire from the Lowlands due to her father’s job when she was exactly half her current age of twenty-eight and about to start grammar school. Everybody called her the “Lowland lassie” for years and it took her quite a long time to start fitting in, which was partly due to her inward-turning and shy nature. Elisa was an only child, Pastor Dan and Bessie had helped her a great deal to fit in to the local community. Her father was an oil rig engineer and was frequently away for weeks if not months on the North Sea, especially during yearly maintenances. Her mother, on the other hand, had lately begun having episodes of depression, possibly due to emotional issues and her husband’s long absences, which left Elisa concerned. Elisa’s mother could not be present at the service due to digestive issues, which left Elisa with a sense of regret. As she was walking down then aisle and arrived at the back row, she spotted Isabel, her best friend and confidante within the congregation. Isabel's father was Jamaican and her mother was from the Dominican Republic - hence her Spanish mame -, but they had settled in Scotland. As her parent's had divorced when she was ten years old, Isabel was brought up by her mother. Both she and Elisa had a way of being strangers to their surroundings, but Isabel was native to the town, although seen as somewhat exotic with her looks and her inclination to give free flow to her emotions - as she had once said, she possessed "the essence of everything Caribbean". Yet as she was speaking the local accent, the locals were considering her more “of our folk” than they did Elisa. As a freshly graduated psychologist, Isabel was prone to be acutely aware of human weaknesses inside the church, and Elisa often had to hold her back, lest she can be regarded as a freak. Given their different temperament, they complemented each other as two pieces of a mosaic. Elisa’s eyes met those of Isabel, who waved to her friend cheerfully, then bid Elisa come closer and handed her a paper note. Then they exchanged a few words, and finally Isabel whispered “fingers crossed”, putting her two fingers in a cross and touching Elisa’s equally crossed fingers. Elisa always appreciated such small gestures of encouragement since she needed plenty of that. As she started mounting the stairs and was hidden from the eyes of the congregation by the balcony wall, Elisa unfolded the sheet of paper, which had only one sentence written on it in Isabel’s familiar handwriting: “Time to put down that burden at last, I see you are being consumed”. Elisa paused and folded the paper in four, quickly putting it into the pocket of her cardigan. She felt a strange sinking inside her stomach so she was thankful for the shelter that the balcony’s wall provided. The congregation was slowly becoming hushed and she pulled out the relevant registers of the organ to create the “worship tune”, then put out the hymnal. Then she quietly pulled out a score book of Handel’s arias and slid it under the hymnal. She kept rewinding in her mind and recalling that particular day six months earlier. It had been maybe áll right for someone to gently run a hand over her hair while sitting close and listening to her rehearsing. Resting a hand longer on her shoulder was already more confusing, even as a sign of affection. However, placing a kiss on her hair and sliding a hand down her back, all the way below her waist, made her to instinctively freeze and stop playing, although she was took astonished to protest. She excused herself ín her usual mild manner and hastily left the room. All this came from someone whom she respected, and whom she had to meet regularly afterwards. She felt that even the words of private apology the next day for ",inappropriate touching" left her wondering about the “why?” which had not been answered ever since, and she was eager to have that answer. She had only confided this to Isabel, who was furious to hear what had happened. Isabel told Elisa that she had become a victim of sexual harassment, even if the incident was never repeated, and that for her part, she would have instantly slapped that monster. It took some time before Elisa managed to hush her friend by saying that the matter was more subtle than that. Elisa for her part was not furious, only confused. However, flashbacks kept coming back suddenly, as do recurring asthma attacks, due to the lingering question that tormented her. Pastor Dan started his sermon, which was about the liberating power of spoken confession of transgressions and building trust with God. When the sermon ended, the congregation sat in silent anticipation of the last musical piece tehát was usually a freely chosen sacred aria, and Elisa slowly took out the aria score from under the hymnal and opened it at “Lascia ch’io pianga”, “Let me weep”, an aria from the opera Rinaldo. She solemnly started playing the introductory chords, feeling herself being carried away by the music. Her clear soprano voice was resounding all over the church walls that had not heard secular music for a long time. When the aria ended and the congregation started dissembling, she sat in excited anticipation. Soon she heard the soft creaking of the wooden stairs and her heart started racing at the sound of women’s shoes, with their wearer clearly in a hurry. She spotted Bessie Morrison, a woman in her early forties, with hazel eyes wearing her auburn hair in a loose bun. Elisa turned to fully face Bessie. She knew, however, that whatever her thoughts about “inappropriate” music in the church, Bessie was not very likely to vent her fury. Rather, she would display an attitude of composed disapproval. “I wonder what prompted you to sing an opera aria, Elisa”, Bessie said, in a surprisingly calm voice, but Elisa could feel some edge to it. “Were the people not comfortable with it?”, Elisa asked. “Well... On the contrary, they said you were really singing from the heart, only the fact that it was in Italian came as a surprise to some... But let’s not wander away from the point. How did it occur to you to perform that, knowing that secular music should not be played during worship?” Elisa was getting completely calm by now and she was quietly fixing Bessie with her deep blue eyes. “Does it make sense to say it was intended as a message?” “A message? What do you mean?" “Think about the subject of the aria: a distressed character pleading for liberty.” “Let me be blunt: is this about you feeling like a captive?" “Maybe, but it's really not about myself. Bessie, remember what happened half a year ago?” “Oh dear”, Bessie sighed and grabbed a spare chair nearby to sit down, close to te organ where Elisa was seated. “How could I not remember? But I thought my apology settled everything and it never happened again. Trust me, I deeply regret what I did, and I’ve had inner struggles countless times.” “Yes, in a way your apology was sufficient, and your general good image was never shattered in my mind... But one thing I couldn’t get was your motive to do what you did. You know, I felt like something long hidden was suddenly bursting out. And frankly, the last thing I expected was such a thing coming from another woman. It feels like there is something behind this that you don’t even admit to yourself.” Bessie sat silently for a while before uttering her response. “Elisa, there is nothing I can’t admit to myself, but I can’t admit it to others, not in my circumstances.” “Do tell me what it is, I promise it will stay between us.” “Well, okay... I... I am bisexual. Can you imagine a pastor’s wife publicly coming out about this?” Elisa could barely conceal her astonishment: “And... did you ever have a relationship with another woman?” “Only once, at college. We were wild and bold and reckless. I fell for a fellow student, we often played chamber music togerher with her and it went all the way to physical intimacy. We used to be intimate with operatic arias playing in the background. But I was not promiscuous if that's what you mean... When I converted, I realized that this were incompatible with Christian teaching, and when we got married with Dan, out of guilt I persuaded him to banish even classical secular music from the church altogether. I haven’t listened to operatic arias since then, they reminded me of my past." “I see, but then why did you .. touch me like that?” “Oh, Dan and I had sort of an ebb in our marriage, and I sorely missed physical intimacy. As I sat near you, the situation reminded me of that girl I was in a relationship with, and my self-control went to off mode. I regretted what I did as soon as I came to my senses. All the while I had had great appreciation for you, this is why I’m still full of shame for causing you distress. I failed miserably.” Elisa looked deeply moved by what she had heard and after a few seconds, she continued: "Look Bessie, as I said this is not just about me, my confusion is something I'm trying to handle. But I hope you don't mind me saying, I do feel there is something holding you captive. You're better than this, and deserve liberty, for sure. But I have a feeling our incident brought you closer to freedom." "I don't think I get you", Bessie said with carefully uttered confusion. "Let me explain. One can attach a label such as molestation or sinful conduct to our incident, and frown on it. But I believe that's not the point... Have you ever asked: 'Hey desire, what got you here and what do you want from me?' Now finding the answer is, I think, the real point, and first you had to face the desire at all." It was now Bessie's turn to be moved, as her shaking voice made it clear: "I've never thought you care for me that much, Elisa. I should surely come to terms with this struggle." "Bessie, I owe you a lot... And yes, I do care for you anyway." "Elisa, there's one more thing I have but I'm not supposed to tell. If I did, it would turn everything upside dowm." Elisa nodded knowingly. "I think I do know what that is, Bessie, but I guess I would struggle to give even the right response if you spoke about it now... In any case, I'm happy for you since I now see you did not mean to molest me. And even more because you've come so close to becoming free." Elisa pulled her chair closer, stretched out her hand and put it reassuringly on the other woman's arm. Then Bessie spoke: “So you don’t think I’m a monster?” Elisa shook her head: “It should be obvious how I feel by now, but no, I never did. Your apology already told me you're not a predator. Look, we both need a bit of healing and reflection, too. But do consider how to treat the part of yourself that you've been hiding. I suggest you try to speak to Pastor Dan about your past, he has a right to know about it, and together it will be easier to work things out. As for the rest that we spoke about, it will be forever locked here... and here", Elisa said, pointing first to her forehead, then her heart, smiling. Bessie had been biting her lips during the conversation to prevent bursting into tears, but now she was able to produce a faint smile. “Elisa, I am so thankful. Did you... ever consider going into counseling?” “I’m afraid I’m too much absorbed by music for that, but I will think about this”, Elisa said with an expression of tearful relief. They got up with Elisa closely following Bessie, and walked down, only to run into Pastor Dan, who told them: “Oh, here you are, you two. I’ve been wondering what you've been up to.” Elisa was the first to reply. “We had... er... a need to share a few things. But we also talked about today's closing piece." “Oh, I see... Yes, the choice did seem odd to me...” Elisa could hear Bessie’s voice from beside her: “It’s all right Dan, Elisa had a purpose in choosing that aria, it’s about craving liberation. She should just choose something in English in the future, so the congregation can understand it. " After a few seconds of pause, she added: “Dan, I’ve been thinking about relaxing our rules regarding music. Not everything suits worship but secular music can also be uplifting If chosen right. I would also like to draw Elisa into this." "Bessie, I trust you on that. I have no objections, If that improves the quality of service. Has Elisa agreed?" "Bessie didn't mention this earlier but it's fine with me", said Elisa with a smile. As the worship hall was now empty, they left the church. Elisa took a cordial leave from the Morrisons, then headed for the nearby park where she was to meet Isabel. Suddenly Isabel jumped out from behind a tree with a “peek-a-boo”, then asked Elisa: “How did it go?” Elisa did not immediately reply, she glanced down thoughtfully for a few seconds, then raised her head and looked straight into Isabel’s eyes. “Poor Bessie, she was hit harder by all that than I was”, she said in a calm tone. “Did you have a talk, then?”, Isabel asked with a questioning look. “Yes, it’s all settled. I clearly see she's no predator and she has my full trust." While uttering this, she glanced firmly into Isabel’s eyes, her look suggesting that she would not disclose anything else on what they had talked about with Bessie. Isabel remarked: “Elisa, I’ve never seen you giving this look. You used to be do restless and now you seem to be firm like a rock. For others, it can take months to change this much. I speak from experience.” Elisa smiled gently, then asked Isabel if she could help her enroll to a course in counseling. “Wow, sure... Girl, you keep amazing me.” “Thank you so much. Now come, it’s time for dinner and Mum has finally agreed to have a guest, let',s not make her wait any longer”, Elisa said, gently pulling on Isabel’s arm, and they walked off to her home