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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Love stories / Romance
- Subject: Art / Music / Theater / Dance
- Published: 06/25/2022
Gentle keys.
Born 1951, M, from Wilmington NC, United States.jpeg)
The Coffee shop wasn’t all that big. Maybe twenty or so people scattered around at tables, or on the big couches by the wall. In one corner was an old Piano. Nobody even knew it worked…or not. Until…
Nobody noticed him when he came in. Just a guy in green corduroys with brown eyes and red hair was all most people saw. Some of the girls hid a giggle because who wears corduroy pants anymore? He was not a Fashion plate, or trendsetter. Some of the more observant noticed his hands and fingers. His hands were just a bit too large for his body. The fingers were long, slender, strong.
It was jarring for some of the more astute patrons to notice how the hands seemed to carry the young man around with a confidence the rest of his body was lacking. His hands swung with a self assurance that most would envy. His face lit up when he saw the piano in the corner. He didn’t hesitate or break stride. He walked directly to the piano, lifted the lid off of the keys. He hit a note. A small frown appeared on his face. He hit another note…and deeper frown.
Almost everyone was watching him now, including the two Baristas behind the bar (both College Students in their last year at Uni) and the Owner of the little Coffee shop, who fancied himself a closet Philosopher. The guy with the red hair, brown eyes and over large hands surprised them all. He reached into his back pack and pulled out several tools. He lifted the top off of the piano and proceeded to tune each and every key. When he was done, he ran the scale up and down all eighty eight keys.
The Owner whistled. He had no idea the piano could sound that good. He just put it there to show the place had class and to inspire whimsical conversations. Just the hint of music made conversations more lively…and deep, according to his home spun Philosophy. That scale run was one of the most beautiful pieces of music he had ever heard. He dated a Concert Pianist when he was at the Royal Academy…and she couldn’t hold a candle to that little run the red headed young man had just done.
“Can you play?”
A girl with long dark hair, the cuteness of her teens barely dusted from the just now a young woman look of her cheekbones. She smiled as the boy turned to see who had spoken. Her words had broken his intense occupation with the keys and tuning.
He looked at her. He liked what he saw. So he smiled.
“A little. For you.”
She blushed. Everyone in the place was riveted at the interplay. It wasn’t flirting, that they all knew. It was something deeper…a beginning. Some of the girls had heart flutters at the approaching romance. Some of the men smiled sadly, remembering when they had a beginning …maybe not as potent, but certainly laden with potential. No one spoke. They just watched.
“I don’t like loud music.”
He chuckled.
“I’ll be gentle.”
“I know you will.”
Needless to say, in a room full of people none of them teetering on the brink of twenty three or four (Except the Owner who was all of thirty three) little gasps of wonder escaped their lips at the interplay between the dark haired girl, and the boy in green corduroys. Romance Novels couldn’t have come up with a better opening series of lines…or with the gentle double entendres that weren’t sexual in nature…just intimate.
The young man sat on the stool of the piano, more of a bench really, scooted it forward a few inches, settled himself, wiped his hands on the ridges of his green corduroy pants a few times, and lifted his hands to play.
Everyone noticed his hands. They didn’t lift themselves to the piano…they floated gently up, then hovered a few millimeters above the keys. A soft breath came out of the boys mouth. The hands descended to the keys. Once there, they somehow managed to maintain their confident playing with gentle, almost loving, strokes of the keys.
He didn’t pound the keys. Nor did he snap them with quick darting precise power. No, he kind of softly pressured the key to let out the softest of tones. The quiet tones that a deep love ripples out in a “Thank You” or a : “ It’s okay.” There was no exaggeration in his movements. It was the simple bare truth of the beauty of music revealed. The notes gently wafted throughout the Coffee shop. All movement, except the beating of hearts, the internal shushing of memories pounding up from the basement of people’s minds, as lost loves, good times, and first kisses tried to tiptoe in to hear the music…all of that ceased.
For a time only gentle caresses of your ear landed one after another to fill your senses with the musical equivalent of butterfly kisses. A new mother, thrilled to hold her baby for the first time, couldn’t possibly be any gentler, involved, or in awe. Still the music flowed. It didn’t pour out, that would be too stark. It flowed like a sea of molasses covered notes covered with silk chocolate.
Some couldn’t help it. They cried. Which was its own kind of music leaking from their eyes. Others closed their eyes. The music taking them to places they hadn’t visited in far too long. One girl vowed (silently) to call her Mother and say: “I love you.” Another girl let the music sway her on a swing…her brother, just two years older than her, all of seven years old, was pushing gently against her back sending her on yet another arc. She was going to call her brother when the Music ended. Just to tell him about that memory. She loved her brother. He needed to know that.
A bearded young man, just a few years out of the Marines, let the music open a door in his mind. The sounds and sights of a war that went on too long, spilled out from behind that door. The music covered them with forgiveness and washed away some of the pain. His dark thoughts turned to a smokey gray. The music continued to spill over his past, washing away all but a light of possibility. He would call the VA and ask to be retrained for a job. He though he would make a good drone pilot. The music led him to try.
One of the Barista’s fingered her engagement ring, spinning it softly around and around to the carousel in her heart, spun by the music. She knew that ring meant a lot to Barry. Now, with the music bumping up against her heart like a new puppy hoping for a belly rub, she realized she needed to treat Barry with more warmth. She had taken him for granted, and the music granted her a glimpse of that. She did Love Barry. She would call him as soon as the music stopped. No more texts. It made her smile.
And so it went. The gentlest of all music continued to spread like dandelion spores, lifted by the winds of love, memory, kindness and apology. Everyone was affected.
The music faded. He had stopped playing moments ago, but notes lingered in hearts and minds, and the warm tips of his fingers. He turned to face the dark haired lady.
“That was for you.”
Her eyes wide, shiny, and honest…looked into his welcoming, just as wide, just as shiny, and just as honest as hers.
“I know.”
He closed the lid on the piano and moved to sit next to the dark haired girl at her two top. Emotions and glances from everyone seemed to eddy around him in puddles of good wishes, there was no applause. Just thanks.
The Barista (the one with the engagement ring from Barry) brought two hot chocolates, a cherry danish and a glass of water to their table. She set a check down next to the saucer. The kid in the green corduroys picked up the check. It read:
“There is no charge. I owe you. Thanks.”
A little heart was drawn on it over the name: : Lori.
He showed it to the dark haired girl. She nodded her head in complete agreement.
“That was a sweet thing to do.”
“I thought so too.“
From there their conversation became like the music: soft, deep, gentle, caring.
The hot chocolate cooled.
Gentle keys.(Kevin Hughes)
The Coffee shop wasn’t all that big. Maybe twenty or so people scattered around at tables, or on the big couches by the wall. In one corner was an old Piano. Nobody even knew it worked…or not. Until…
Nobody noticed him when he came in. Just a guy in green corduroys with brown eyes and red hair was all most people saw. Some of the girls hid a giggle because who wears corduroy pants anymore? He was not a Fashion plate, or trendsetter. Some of the more observant noticed his hands and fingers. His hands were just a bit too large for his body. The fingers were long, slender, strong.
It was jarring for some of the more astute patrons to notice how the hands seemed to carry the young man around with a confidence the rest of his body was lacking. His hands swung with a self assurance that most would envy. His face lit up when he saw the piano in the corner. He didn’t hesitate or break stride. He walked directly to the piano, lifted the lid off of the keys. He hit a note. A small frown appeared on his face. He hit another note…and deeper frown.
Almost everyone was watching him now, including the two Baristas behind the bar (both College Students in their last year at Uni) and the Owner of the little Coffee shop, who fancied himself a closet Philosopher. The guy with the red hair, brown eyes and over large hands surprised them all. He reached into his back pack and pulled out several tools. He lifted the top off of the piano and proceeded to tune each and every key. When he was done, he ran the scale up and down all eighty eight keys.
The Owner whistled. He had no idea the piano could sound that good. He just put it there to show the place had class and to inspire whimsical conversations. Just the hint of music made conversations more lively…and deep, according to his home spun Philosophy. That scale run was one of the most beautiful pieces of music he had ever heard. He dated a Concert Pianist when he was at the Royal Academy…and she couldn’t hold a candle to that little run the red headed young man had just done.
“Can you play?”
A girl with long dark hair, the cuteness of her teens barely dusted from the just now a young woman look of her cheekbones. She smiled as the boy turned to see who had spoken. Her words had broken his intense occupation with the keys and tuning.
He looked at her. He liked what he saw. So he smiled.
“A little. For you.”
She blushed. Everyone in the place was riveted at the interplay. It wasn’t flirting, that they all knew. It was something deeper…a beginning. Some of the girls had heart flutters at the approaching romance. Some of the men smiled sadly, remembering when they had a beginning …maybe not as potent, but certainly laden with potential. No one spoke. They just watched.
“I don’t like loud music.”
He chuckled.
“I’ll be gentle.”
“I know you will.”
Needless to say, in a room full of people none of them teetering on the brink of twenty three or four (Except the Owner who was all of thirty three) little gasps of wonder escaped their lips at the interplay between the dark haired girl, and the boy in green corduroys. Romance Novels couldn’t have come up with a better opening series of lines…or with the gentle double entendres that weren’t sexual in nature…just intimate.
The young man sat on the stool of the piano, more of a bench really, scooted it forward a few inches, settled himself, wiped his hands on the ridges of his green corduroy pants a few times, and lifted his hands to play.
Everyone noticed his hands. They didn’t lift themselves to the piano…they floated gently up, then hovered a few millimeters above the keys. A soft breath came out of the boys mouth. The hands descended to the keys. Once there, they somehow managed to maintain their confident playing with gentle, almost loving, strokes of the keys.
He didn’t pound the keys. Nor did he snap them with quick darting precise power. No, he kind of softly pressured the key to let out the softest of tones. The quiet tones that a deep love ripples out in a “Thank You” or a : “ It’s okay.” There was no exaggeration in his movements. It was the simple bare truth of the beauty of music revealed. The notes gently wafted throughout the Coffee shop. All movement, except the beating of hearts, the internal shushing of memories pounding up from the basement of people’s minds, as lost loves, good times, and first kisses tried to tiptoe in to hear the music…all of that ceased.
For a time only gentle caresses of your ear landed one after another to fill your senses with the musical equivalent of butterfly kisses. A new mother, thrilled to hold her baby for the first time, couldn’t possibly be any gentler, involved, or in awe. Still the music flowed. It didn’t pour out, that would be too stark. It flowed like a sea of molasses covered notes covered with silk chocolate.
Some couldn’t help it. They cried. Which was its own kind of music leaking from their eyes. Others closed their eyes. The music taking them to places they hadn’t visited in far too long. One girl vowed (silently) to call her Mother and say: “I love you.” Another girl let the music sway her on a swing…her brother, just two years older than her, all of seven years old, was pushing gently against her back sending her on yet another arc. She was going to call her brother when the Music ended. Just to tell him about that memory. She loved her brother. He needed to know that.
A bearded young man, just a few years out of the Marines, let the music open a door in his mind. The sounds and sights of a war that went on too long, spilled out from behind that door. The music covered them with forgiveness and washed away some of the pain. His dark thoughts turned to a smokey gray. The music continued to spill over his past, washing away all but a light of possibility. He would call the VA and ask to be retrained for a job. He though he would make a good drone pilot. The music led him to try.
One of the Barista’s fingered her engagement ring, spinning it softly around and around to the carousel in her heart, spun by the music. She knew that ring meant a lot to Barry. Now, with the music bumping up against her heart like a new puppy hoping for a belly rub, she realized she needed to treat Barry with more warmth. She had taken him for granted, and the music granted her a glimpse of that. She did Love Barry. She would call him as soon as the music stopped. No more texts. It made her smile.
And so it went. The gentlest of all music continued to spread like dandelion spores, lifted by the winds of love, memory, kindness and apology. Everyone was affected.
The music faded. He had stopped playing moments ago, but notes lingered in hearts and minds, and the warm tips of his fingers. He turned to face the dark haired lady.
“That was for you.”
Her eyes wide, shiny, and honest…looked into his welcoming, just as wide, just as shiny, and just as honest as hers.
“I know.”
He closed the lid on the piano and moved to sit next to the dark haired girl at her two top. Emotions and glances from everyone seemed to eddy around him in puddles of good wishes, there was no applause. Just thanks.
The Barista (the one with the engagement ring from Barry) brought two hot chocolates, a cherry danish and a glass of water to their table. She set a check down next to the saucer. The kid in the green corduroys picked up the check. It read:
“There is no charge. I owe you. Thanks.”
A little heart was drawn on it over the name: : Lori.
He showed it to the dark haired girl. She nodded her head in complete agreement.
“That was a sweet thing to do.”
“I thought so too.“
From there their conversation became like the music: soft, deep, gentle, caring.
The hot chocolate cooled.
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Gerald R Gioglio
07/18/2022Wow, Kevin. This is a wonderful, remarkable piece. So visual, so soulful. I'm back to that look and the sound of distant teenage promise. Hey, you'll dig this from Rumi: "Music is the squeaking door of heaven. I hear it squeaking as it opens to me.". Best, Jerry
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Kevin Hughes
07/18/2022Thanks Gerald, music and my teens seem to be the memories that are poking through this week!
Smiles, Kevin
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Lillian Kazmierczak
07/18/2022Kevin, that was a beautiful piece about the healing of music! Throw in a little romance and I'm a sucker for this! Thank you for sharing that marvelous gem! Congratulations on short story star of the day!
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Kevin Hughes
07/18/2022Thanks Lillian,
I am the same sort of sucker, Give me some sweet music, and my Kathy...and it is a great day!
Smiles, Kevin
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Kevin Hughes
06/26/2022Thank Gail,
You made me blush. If I could only live up to the Romance in my stories. LOL As my Kathy always says: "The Universe conspired to make us happen." Yes, it did.
Smiles, Kevin
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JD
06/25/2022Another beautifully romantic heart warmer and spirit uplifter, Kevin. Thank you :-)
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Kevin Hughes
07/18/2022JD,
As one pundit once said: "I have a wealth of riches." Thank you so much for your kind words and constant support.
Smiles, Kevin
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Kevin Hughes
06/26/2022Thanks JD!
Yeah, I started writing about music, and somehow it ended up romantically. Music does that. LOL
Smiles, Kevin
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COMMENTS (9)