“What’s that sound?” I’m stunned to hear such a tune.
“I’m not sure,” my mom says as we both sit on the back patio talking about my audition.
“It’s beautiful,” I’m completely distracted.
“He usually doesn’t have music playing,” mom is confused.
“He? And that’s an instrument, I doubt it’s off the radio,” I know a thing or two.
“Yeah, a widow, he’s lived there for a few years now. I hadn’t officially introduced myself.”
“Why mom? A single man? You’re a single woman.” I remind her.
“Not really in the mood to get hurt again, Elliot,” she reminds me.
“Mom! That was a decade ago, I think it’s time you let someone in again,” I don’t want to see my mom lonely forever.
“That is a beautiful sound though.”
The audition went well. I played my favorite piece from Bach to introduce my classic style, and then a cover I had come across on YouTube not many have heard of. It was more of a pop classic. They seemed to like it, but with the long list of pianist they had sitting out in front of the theater showed me, I might not have much of a chance and shouldn’t get my hopes up too much. If this doesn’t pan out, I might need to consider a plan b.
“Would you mind cutting the grass for me, honey?” Mom asks as she makes her way to work.
“Of course, I have nothing else going on,” I happily throw on a pair of jeans and plan to cut the grass with the riding lawn mower I had purchased for her a few years back. I live in a small apartment in Rochester and don’t get the chance very often to enjoy yard work. In fact, this is always the best part of summer breaks at home.
Swinging my right leg over the seat of the John Deere, the headphones jammed into my ear, I’m ready to rock and roll, but in the back of my mind, still thinking of the tunes I heard coming from the house next door. I’m certain it wasn’t the radio. It felt too real. And I’ve never listened to anyone play such an instrument as I did, it was so distinct I couldn’t even make out what instrument exactly I was listening to.
Staring at the house, I wonder what the widowed man is like. If he plays the instrument with such love it’s a wasted talent. Some people, when they have the skills, don’t pursue them and it actually upsets me. Get out. Do something with your talent and show the rest of the world what joy an instrument and music can bring. Most people can tell you their favorite TV shows and movies, I can tell you all about my fascination with Bach, Chester See, and even John Legend. Although, Frank Sinatra will always be my favorite.
Up and down the hill. To the side of the house. The front yard. Even the edges of the house. I have it all cleaned up. As I pull the lawn mower into the yard I hear a female with a loud and explicit, “Shit!” I wonder if everything is okay.
A beautiful curly haired brunette is battling with about ten bags on the ground behind the car she’s attempting to unload. “Shit! Shit! Just my luck,” she complains and I feel myself helping her.
“Oh my gosh, thank you so much,” she’s friendly, but clearly annoyed.
“No problem,” I pick up the vegetables that had rolled out of the grocery bags and try to place them into the broken bags, “it’s probably easier if I just carried them in like this,” I laugh as I fight trying to keep the bag from blowing away with the wind.
“Looks like there’s a storm coming,” she states the obvious as we feel some sprinkles from the sky.
“Let’s hurry and get these in the house before you get soaked,” I pick up the rest of the bags and items that had rolled out and hand them to her on her front porch.
“Thank you so much,” she smiles and for a minute I’m smitten by her beauty.
“You’re very welcome. My name is Elliot,” I reach out to shake her hand.
She giggles, “sorry, I kind of can’t,” she looks to her filled hands making it known it’s a little difficult to shake hands, “Melody,” she smiles.
What a beautiful name, I think as I stare at her.
“Well, thanks,” she raises her eyebrows while I stand and gawk at her beauty like a complete fool.
“Right!” I laugh. “Nice meeting you.”
I walk away, but something is keeping me from going. Stopping mid yard, I take one last look back at her and notice she’s still standing staring. It’s awkward. So I just smile at her, give her a friendly nod, and continue to walk home.
When I was thirteen, all the money my parents had settled on during the divorce went towards one thing mom always wanted to buy me but dad was hail bent against since he said it would be a waste of a purchase and most likely I would lose interest. It was a Wertheim, one of the top notches of my choosing. She spoiled me after the divorce. Anything with music she supported 100%. She bought me any equipment required to keep the YouTube channel up float to build me an audience. Although the competition is high.
With my fingers adjusted on the keys of the piano, I slowly ease into a song. I sing a tune, can’t say I have the best singing voice in my opinion, but I hum and create. Writing songs has always been a passion of mine. All the windows and the patio door is open just so I can fill the sound of the room with additional sounds, especially the howling of the wind from the storm. The thunder rolling in makes for a great backdrop of the song I’m creating. But it’s not the only sound following my tune. There’s another soothing sound matching my composition well. It’s as if the person is purposely trying to match it. We’re playing a song together. But the unknown creator is either in my head or outside of my door. So I play louder. And they play louder and faster. We’re in sync, one complete song of perfection of only notes. We’re creating. The unknown feels the music just as much as I do.
I’ve stopped. So, have they. Complete silence fills the room and for a split second I contemplate running outside to see where I was hearing the sound coming from. But I’m stuck to the chair curious if another sound fills the air. The thunder rolls. The rain pours. And I’m certain the sound coming from outside was a violin. Someone with massive skills. My fingers plunking the piano silently, but there’s no additional sound. It felt as if music had just made love. Slow, strong, and passionate love.