(20090129)Morris Bobetter notes
He took it, moved his chair from the clock-facing direction, and set it on the chair unopened. He stared for minutes and started pealing tape when the back door bell rang. A student interested in purchasing an instrument. Morris answered no and shut the door quickly, but they wouldn’t’ go away. Top dollar, they said, they had no time to waste. They’d heard he made beautifully tuned instruments that you could hear at night. He was very talented [bassoon fear + old woman’s instrument] at the bassoon. [may come by to take them away, he finds the flute is the woman’s, brings it to her after he gets the last instrument, and goes home to make time stand still.]
“I only have one and it’s not for sale.”
“Oh my, it’s beautiful,” he said, seeing it through the hallway and propped there in its usual spot.
“I’ve got all the time in the world to tell you its not for sale.” [Actually, it was on loan from somewhere? Left to someone in a will?] Two more students came over the next couple hours, wondering if their instruments were complete, but Morris shooshed each of them away. The girl who first brought the flute came next.
“My mom thinks I should play the piano, and definitely not something from a fire, but there’s something special about it, right? Its like it was reborn.” [could the old woman’s and his wife’s instrument be the same?]
Morris could not disagree. Why waste it. His wife would’ve agreed. He sighed and left her to find the flute. He found the case upside down. A flap built inside it he’d never noticed as the seam was charred was open, and as he lifted the case its contents emptied into his floor. He put everything back except the receipt, which he rubbed with his thumb on the heart drawn in red pen. He couldn’t tell the girl no, so he simply told her he lost the case and she’d need to come back tomorrow. As she left he waited until she was gone and left as well.
“Find me every instrument in this place, and I’ll make it worth your while. Send your son. He’s not doing anything anyway.” He sat and watched her staring. Watched her lips purse from time to time. And when he returned empty handed, Morris… 02:02 PM | 0 Comments | Tags: notes, moleskin, book of ideas, swapmeet