Grand Unveiling

I told myself: it will not sound the way I want it to; it will not feel the way I want it to.  Not that I wasn't ready for it to, if only it would...I was nervous, not having played in a while, no longer so terribly bashful about it but still not much of an improviser, hoping I could ask him to play it for me, maybe...will I remember anything?  Will his wife be around?  Will he be kind?  I don't care to do business with unkind persons.

The place was easy to find and almost too charming, a buttercup yellow cottage with prickly pears and mats of sedum nestled among the bright flowers in the yard, the liveliest place on the street. I rang the bell and stood for a moment or two on the doorstep, admiring the artful hand-stitched lace curtain hanging inside the red door, at which I was greeted by vivid-eyed older man who said, you must be...

It was covered by a patterned cloth, piled with books and papers, a vase of dried grasses with those shiny glass coin plants, a few framed photos. He had too little faith, he said, that email would actually work and I would show up at the time we'd arranged...As he moved everything aside, I surveyed the room, the color of a shallow ocean pool, a red Chinese lantern hanging from the ceiling, a tattered violin case in front of the painted brick fireplace, an old stuffed chair, piles of books and original artwork on the walls...Adjoining, a rich pink room full of antique furniture, bright oriental rugs, spacious and intimate, colorful, home...

And then, there it was: my piano.

It had been his daughter's, years ago, but neither he nor his wife play.  He told me of finding it, of the technician (who probably hadn't changed his t-shirt in years, high on fumes...) who rebuilt it, offered something akin to direction and slipped off to another room, while I sat down to try my hand.  One touch, maybe, was all it took...the sound was there, bright and open to the highest resonance...light and easy action, a little worn in, the way I like it...the lower register needs some work and could perhaps be bolder but is at least not too heavy, and in any case I didn't wail on the thing, I just played a few chords, a scale or two, let my fingers wander a bit...

I suppose he could see it was mine, strange fellow.

So, naturally, I signed my name and handed him a check.  I don't know how well it will hold a tune, or if it can stand up to a serious pounding, but hell--the gorgeous case alone is worth the modest price.  Honestly, I couldn't take my eyes off it.  Sleek, graceful, simple, detailed...perfect. 

The deal's not quite done, but with any luck my new piano will be sitting where I am now, in a week.  Can't get here soon enough...