It’s music to our feet

 

By Tiber

Well, Dad had another of his hare-brained ideas. Actually, that’s incorrect. You never hear about rabbits coming up with insane plans for their families. They’re really just Dad-brained ideas.

He excitedly called us all together. In the past, with the estate grounds here so large, my parents have hosted musical events for charities and other groups. There’s no question, it’s a beautiful setting. Dad said that now that we need some money, why not host a musical event and just charge admission for us? Mom quickly reminded Dad that we’d have to pay for the musicians which would greatly reduce our returns.

“Not if we’re the musicians!” Dad crowed.

He could just as easily have said, “Not if we find gold bars in the toilets!“ for all the likelihood of that happening.

We have a piano and my sister, Vanessa, took lessons on it a long time ago. But Mom won’t let any concert-goers into the house or allow the piano out of the house so that’s the end of that instrument.

Duncan was on trumpet briefly in the high school marching band but he was so bad at it, he was finally told to just march and not really play. He wasn’t that good at marching either, and soon he was just wasting a uniform.

Dad still had on his “Eureka!” face, though. And he revealed that he’d found a whole cache of old musical instruments up in the attics and we could all learn to play those.

Everybody froze, of course. As far as we know, that unknown old woman Mom saw up there one time could still be there. Actually, I don’t know which would be worse. Seeing her up there again or not seeing her, because now she’s somewhere loose in the house. I keep worrying that one morning she’s going to leap out of my underwear drawer.

Dad dragged us up to the attic floor anyway and soon threw open the door to one of the rooms.

Across the way, the only two instruments visible initially were a tuba and a triangle and I can’t express to you the power of the stampede to get to that triangle. When everyone staggered back up, it was no longer so much a triangle as just three people each holding one little metal tube.

And the tuba? Well, that’s pretty much just compacted metal now. You could use it as a Frisbee…if you were on the moon.

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