Music of the Night: A Short Story

Music of the night

Pain shot through Ruth’s gnarled knotted hands. Hands twisted by arthritis. Hands that once made audiences weep as they flew over the keyboard of the Steinway. Hands, which the New York Times once called the hands of an angel.

Now she was the one weeping. She thought of her wasted life. Her gorgeous silk dresses replaced with rough clothing. Now she wore garments appropriate for cleaning the concert hall where she once performed. Her dreams were gone dashed on the rocks of reality. She took this job to near the stage that had brought her so much joy.

Tears misted her eyes obscuring her vision. Never again would she hear the thunderous applause, or experience the standing ovation of thousands. Those days were past. When she came on stage, the audience held their breath. Even in the largest concert hall, you could hear the smallest sound. If someone coughed those seated around, that individual would turn frowning in their direction. You could almost hear an audible sigh at the first note. Audiences set for hours mesmerized by the reverberation emitting from the grand.

Groaning she painfully picked up cloth and polished brass handles on the main doors. Through these doors thousands of excited people rushed to hear her. It seemed a lifetime ago.

“Yo, Rosy.” Ralph called. “What you doin’? Yous spost to be done with these doors hours a go”.

“Sorry Ralph some kid upchucked in the third row .It took a while to clean it up”. Ruth said answering to the name she had adopted for her new life.

Well, yous better hurry it up. Mr. Wheeler al be here any minute to check the place. He wants everything to be perfect for the Christmas concert this Sunday.”

“I’ll be done.” Ruth assured him.

15 minutes later ...

... middle of paper ...

...r head tears of joy falling onto the lap of the soiled dress.

Then the theater erupted in thunderess applause. Confused Ruth looked out on a standing room only crowd. The sound man had accidently left the outside speaker on. Alerted by the police Mr. Wheeler was the first to arrive. Passersby on their way work were attracted by the music. The hope, joy, and tranquility flowing from Ruth’s finger seemed to pull at their hearts giving them hope. They filed into the theater for this unexpected concert. When the seats were filled, they stood in the aisles.

Ruth’s music is different today. Oh, she can still mesmerize audiences, yet there is a pleasing excellence about her performances. She plays with an obvious passion. As with all who feel the touch of the Master’s hand.

In the night His song shall be with me. Psalms 42:8

Merry Christmas © 2013

Darrell Case