Chapter Forty-One

Here’s the next Chapter of Lost and Found.

Last time, I mentioned I was going to do something here which wouldn’t be likely to happen in a printed book. However, as I looked at the length of the writing for this week, I realized I would have to postpone the idea until next week. Sorry! I’m disappointed as well. I love trying new experiments but will have to practice patience for now.

This chapter is more narrative description than dialogue, but when I remember how I felt when I first saw the neighborhood I describe here, I can still feel how enthralled I was. And, it wasn’t only the neighborhood which enthralled me, as you will see as you read.

I hope you enjoy today’s chapter.

Be well — be in peace,

Ron Rink
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Not only did I have to wear my Sunday suit for the audition, I had to take two buses to get to Miss Thomas’ house on the west side of Detroit. I felt like some little sissy wearing the suit and was ready to start a fight with anyone who even looked at me. I just kept my head down and avoided making eye contact with the other passengers on the buses. I found I began to do something else I had never done before—I began to play the Bach pieces in my mind. I hadn’t memorized them completely at that point, but I was still able to hear them in my head and play the notes with my fingers on the top of my legs as I sat on the bus.

After almost an hour of travel, I arrived at the corner where I had to get off the bus. It would be a walk of several more blocks to get to her street. When I arrived at her street, I looked at the sheet of paper where my mother had written the address, and after reading the number of the first house on the block I knew her house would be further down.

The neighborhood was different from any others I had seen. There were many mature trees along the street. The houses were huge and had large, perfectly groomed front lawns. There were beautiful hedges bordering the lawns in front of almost every house. Almost all of the houses were built with brick, and from what I could see walking down the street, the backyards were expansive with garages that had two, sometimes three doors. The street was much wider than the streets around my house. There was a large grassy boulevard area down the middle of it filled with trees and shrubs. I didn’t see any kids around which was very different from the neighborhoods around my house. There were always noisy kids on bikes and scooters, or playing ball in the streets. This street was so quiet it was almost eerie.

About three blocks further on I came to her house. It was a two-story brick house with a porch running all along the front. There was an iron gate by the sidewalk and hedges around the lawn. Colorful flowers in pots were hanging from above the railings on the front porch. There were flowers next to the walkway leading to the porch. It was a covered porch and there were cushioned rocking chairs, a few straight chairs, a reclining chair, small tables and a porch swing over to one side of the porch. The windows on the porch went from just above the floor to the ceiling.

I knocked on the door. I waited a couple of minutes but no one answered. I looked for a doorbell, but there wasn’t one. I looked up and saw that there was a brass knocker shaped like a horse’s head on the door. I picked up the handle of the knocker and rapped it a few times.

The door opened and a well-dressed, short, stout, elderly, gray-haired woman stood looking at me. Her eyes moved quickly up and down as though wondering what this boy in a fancy suit was doing on her front porch.

“May I help you?” she asked.

“I’m here for my audition with Miss Thomas,” I answered.

“Oh,” she said, “she’s in the studio around in back. Just follow the walkway next to the house. You’ll see the garage. Go past the garage. Her studio is around in back. You can’t miss it.” She nodded to me and shut the door.

As I walked alongside the house and looked towards the backyard, I saw a large stone building which I presumed was the garage. I had never seen a garage like this one. It was a two-story building with three large doors in the front. One of the doors was open, but there was no vehicle in the bay. The building was longer than I expected for a garage. Of course, the garages I was used to seeing were tiny frame structures just big enough for a car and not much else. This garage was larger than my own home. The walkway alongside the garage was made out of slabs of slate and there were flowers and hedges along the edges. The backyard was spectacular. It was huge. There were large trees all along the borders of the yard, with hedges, flowerbeds, and beautifully manicured lawn areas with wooden and cement benches scattered about. Some of the gardens had cement statuary in among the colorful flowers.

As I followed the path to the back of the garage, I began to hear amazing piano music coming from inside. I didn’t know what the music was, but the playing was something beyond anything I had ever heard before, even on the radio. It sounded dramatic, powerful and romantic all at the same time. I rounded the corner of the garage and stood for a moment listening to the piano. There were two large open windows on either side of a red-painted center door. As I passed the first window, I could see a woman seated at a grand piano looking intense as she played. I knocked on the door and the music stopped.

The door opened and a tall, slim, beautiful, dark-skinned woman wearing a long flowing dress stood smiling at me.

She reached out her hand to me. “Hello, you must be Roland.”

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My other blog about Buddhism

http://www.buddhistbelief.com
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