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Agustina arrived with the force of ten men, enough strength to order guards twice her size. In animal comparison, it would be as if a small bear cub were shouting at two grizzly bears over two meters tall. The guards tried to say something, but the shame Mr. James Johnson felt was enough to tilt the balance in Agustina's favor.

-How abusive, - Agustina muttered.

-You can't take those papers, - Johnson murmured.

-Who says so? You, the man who wants to separate a son from his mother with lies and deceit, hiding secrets. You've sent him to the hospital twice now, blaming him for being the leader of a gang. He's been here for three months, sir. We live in a central neighborhood, and it's the first time my son has gotten into trouble. You think it's easy to ruin people's lives and get away with it. I want to talk to my son, - said Agustina, Chief Guard James shrinking in the face of the Argentine woman's shouts. Her rage was pure and hard; even in silence, her eyebrows formed a straight line, and her eyes narrowed. Her anger was so authentic that those present refrained from contradicting her, expecting a more aggressive response than they were already receiving.

-He's in the music room, ma'am. Rico here will take you there. But you can't take those papers. Mr. Carson will be taken to Arizona next week, and from Arizona, you can file a transfer order or a request for evaluation regarding Twin Towers Correctional, - said James.

-My lawyer will take care of everything. I hope you gentlemen know that justice will solve this problem, - Agustina said, breathing deeply in the face of the injustice happening to her little boy.

The petite woman left the general direction room; there was Charles with a bright smile in his eyes. Now that he had somewhat lost his position as Twin Towers director, this chaos only served him to pin something on Mr. James. Only if he's careful, he can take this way out and take James Johnson with him.

A smile was starting to form on Charles, a man of vices and odious tastes, not necessarily common or normal tastes.

-You did this! You better wipe that smile off your face. If I have to clarify things, I will, - James said in a threatening tone.

-Carry on, chief of security. I'll continue my path in the administrative offices, - said Charles, who was still in trouble, with what would be decided by the review department. For now, the imposed sanction was precautionary, not entirely correct and fair.

-Come on, kid, you need to pay attention to the position of your elbows. Look, forward. The day will come when you learn to play from sheet music. You need to lift your head, looking at your fingers is a mistake made by many who get used to playing that way with errors. I want you to avoid those mistakes that are difficult to unlearn. Those mistakes often constitute the path to mastery, - said Spencer.

Correcting Billy's elbows, with Billy's absence, Spencer now focuses solely on Billy's composition of his touches. For now, they focus on playing Beethoven's "Moonlight Sonata," a slow and fast sonata with many nuances, and small and perfect difficulties to challenge young beginners, those who venture into the world of music, and among the most representative. The sounds of the song represent the waves crashing on the shore, slowly, it's peace, tranquility, typical of a moonlit night, a big moon in the sky, like a white shadow that lifts the nights and the stars, that quiet light that slips away behind the vision. When you hear the sonata, many people evoke tranquil afternoons, silent dawns, or cloudy sunsets.

-Slower, Billy, it's not a drum. You have to be subtle, kid, the piano is elegant, perfectionist, and proud. It's only perfect for the chosen ones, for those who treat it as it should be treated. Those piranhas who play the piano without knowing the delicate art of music crash the notes and invent rhythms with just C's and D's don't have what it takes to create true songs, - said Spencer.

-Calm down, old man, - said Billy.

Following the song that lasted approximately ten minutes, the second particular challenge was to play it perfectly for so long. Something demanding for piano novices.

-Don't talk; every time you talk, you lose focus, - said Spencer.

Agustina watched from the hallway, her cheeks concentrated by the strong smile. For a month now, she's been proud of her son's passionate approach. It's what she likes most, that her son has found a path to follow for the rest of his life, so she can't help but boast to people from her recurring jobs, her social circles, neighbors, and acquaintances she's made over the past five years.

Even the teacher is a well-educated man and knows a lot about instruments, judging by the improvement in her little boy.

-They're fantastic! They're the best, - Agustina exclaimed, clapping happily from the side.

Both of them were surprised; they never expected Billy's mother to come to the correctional facility on a non-visiting day.

- Mom! -Billy exclaimed.

Agustina approached slowly, almost wanting her son to run to her and embrace her tightly, as he used to when he was younger, but he had almost surpassed her in height.

-My baby, you look so handsome, - Agustina said, hugging and kissing Billy, showering him with kisses. Agustina's love is, in general, unconditional, and many other aspects, it's an eternal affection that has subsisted since the cradle. - She was born to be a mother, -one of her friends commented, back in the days when Billy's father was still part of the happy family, spending his time reading on the porch.

She kissed Billy many times, overwhelming him, but Agustina was so happy that she couldn't help but pamper Billy.

-Mom, calm down. Stop kissing me, - the boy responded.

-I don't want to. I missed you so much, my little chickadee. Your mom has been dreaming about you every day, - Agustina said.

-I missed you too, - Billy said, hugging Agustina Gonzales in something akin to sentimentality. It wasn't clear to Billy, not to his former self nor his present one, but the feelings of familiarity, love, and security that his mother provided weren't normal. Among them was the unconditional love tied to his mother.

Spencer took two steps back to clear the air and not break the privacy scheme.

-Liar. And you must be Mr. Spencer, - she commented, quickly turning her gaze to the man in the wool vest. - Let me tell you that I'm very grateful that you're teaching my baby to play music. You know, he's not doing very well in school; he's had trouble with all academic classes since he was little, and only sports suited him, and now music too. I feel more confident, - Agustina said.

Spencer blushed at the sight of the tanned, happy woman. Not many women approached him and treated him well because of his small, nerdy, foolish appearance, as some people used to tell him.

-Everything's fine... He's a talented boy, very skilled and dedicated, one of my best students, - Spencer said.

Agustina's crooked smile lit up the sky. - See that, Prof? He's the first person to say that about my little boy. The last person who said he was good at something was his coordinator of coexistence, and he said, 'The only thing he knows how to do is cause trouble. He's very good at causing disasters,' - Agustina commented, the last point repeating the voices, mocking the voices.

-An idiot, - she said lastly.

Spencer nodded, unable to respond.

-Mother, I suppose you already know, - Billy said, overshadowing the atmosphere by sitting back down at the piano bench.

-What, oh well, yes, I heard about your transfer to Arizona. They're fools. You'll help, won't you, Prof? - she looked at Spencer. - I can't think of anyone else to support the stories, and well, I have many things in mind. But we'll fight, - Agustina said, with strength and different from the beginning, accepting the situation calmly and peacefully unlike a few hours ago.

-Fight? - Billy asked.

Agustina's smile was enormous. The blouse she was wearing enhanced her thin body, giving it some twists.

-Your mother knows someone, - Agustina said. Billy imagined the smile of a cat in the way she said things.

Justice for this case isn't necessarily fair or necessarily correct as the forms of development begin to unfold. While it's true that Agustina will fight, claims take some time to be received, and in the next four months, Billy's precarious situation is common because claims have certain forms that must be followed, something that isn't precisely fair. But from a young age, she understood that life is unfair; you just have to read a history book to understand why. Faced with injustices, you have to silence fear and move forward, one day at a time until it doesn't matter anymore, and you just continue with life.

-I feel safe, - Billy said sarcastically.

-Stop that, but... did you do something wrong? - Agustina whispered.

-Nooo, - Billy said.

She observed Billy.

-All right, then, it'll be worth it, - Agustina said.

She had, in one shot, known all of Billy's gestures, as well as her intention, which was always correct because she didn't err in knowing when he was lying and when he wasn't.

-Mother, another of your Gypsy hunches, - Billy said.

-There are no Gypsies. It's just that you must know that your mother has the ability, - Agustina said, grabbing his cheeks firmly.

-I hope so, - Billy said.

....

 

I have been writing a lot of this series, I will publish two to three chapters this extra week, and I will increase my writing pace so that you can finish the prison arc as you call it, the first arc does not have a name, but if I had one I would call it, the singer that I could dream.

On Patreon we are at 52, my idea is to write today until 56, more or less.

Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!

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