Tickling the Ivories

My steady hand brushes the case that folds over the piano keys. A little bit of dust but that won't mean that this beautiful antique will not play. I open up the case to reveal an outstanding quality of black and white keys. A few musical measures fly out from underneath and slowly make their way to the piano bench, even the floor. I slowly squat, picking up the papers that have landed on the bench in front of me. After collecting everything, I gently place them onto their little pedestal.

Sliding swiftly, I gently sit onto the velvet lined bench. I touch the soft red patterns that lay on top. With a slight smirk of delight, I take a deep breath and face towards the keys. I glide my fingers along them to get a good feel of the ivories. I straighten my back and relax my shoulders as while I think about what I want to play.

Shutting my eyes, I try to picture a scene. Any scene will do but there is just one that I cannot seem to forget. A young couple is sitting on a near-moss covered marble bench. A large willow tree hangs its branches over them. They hold hands as the woman begins to giggle when the man brings his face close to hers. The man slowly stands up, bringing the woman along with him. He is so gentle as he caresses her cheek, brushing her hair behind her ear. She can barely contain her embarrassment as he starts naming all the reasons why he loves her. He reaches for a red rose that is conveniently placed in the bush right next to them. They recite their wedding vows to each other. This is a true picture of an example of love. Such a wholesome scene to be thinking of.

I let my fingers guide me as I start to play. The notes flow through my mind like an image and my fingers follow along with each slide. I think about the man and woman that I saw in my mind, the scene is heavily being my inspiration. My head starts to sway back and forth along with the classical music. My eyes are still shut, so, I won't know if anyone else is in the room. In all reality, I could care less if anyone were to enter this old antique shop and listen to this pleasing song.

As I am finishing up, I leisurely open up my eyes. The shop owner is standing behind the piano, in front of me. He is leaning on his wooden cane. I finish the last chord. The man's wrinkled cheeks begin to raise as his lips curl into a large smile, "Well done, young lady. I must say that is one of the most captivating pieces that I have ever heard since working here."

I push my bangs to the side, "thank you." I gently close the casing to the keys. As I am getting ready to stand up, I hear the bell to the front door. A tall gentleman with a black suit and red tie rushes gracefully over to the middle of the shop, where the piano lay. He fixes his tie then places his right arm across his chest so he can form a bow, "Good evening, my name is Aleksandr Fedorov." He hands me his business card, "I heard you play that wonderful music from outside and am wondering if you would be so kind as to play for our theater."

I shyly decline, "I must apologize but I do not socialize well amongst crowds."

He frowns at the sound of my denial, "I assure you will be paid handsomely for it. You are also more than welcome to scope out and familiarize yourself with the stage. I can also assure you that just the music will be center of attention as the piano is off to the side."

I begin to think about performing. I can feel the gut wrenching anxiety that I have had all my life. After taking a breath, I also think about being able to get my music to be heard by many. Maybe I will bring joy to other children like some have done for me, "I will accept your offer."

This is when I finally was able to get my music out into the world, where anyone from anywhere could hear it.