THE MUSIC BOX
Author - Leelee
Written on - Tuesday 18th March 2008 (08:50pm)
The warmth of the sun was such that the last remaining vestiges of ice clusters upon the grass melted quickly with an almost audible hiss and then turned to steam and was lost in the atmoshpere.
The trees in the park, tall and stately and old almost seemed to be breathing in the fragrant cool air, splashed with droplets of liquid sunshine,hot and caressing.
Somewhere in the middle of Hyatte Park there could be heard the crinkly sound of newspapers being moved about in a metal trash bin. This was accompanied by the sweet and pitch perfect tenor of a young beggar.
John Curtis Trent of no fixed address was in a depression and as always, even before the dark days came to him, he whistled and sang to lift himself up. He was not a believer in taking drugs or alcohol to make life more bearable.
'Better to embrace the pain and work your way out of it than be medicated and half alive' he would tell his friends who did not hesitate to medicate themselves in a bad patch.
This past week had been almost unendurable. The usual places of business that would at least let him do odd jobs for his supper, had all, for some strange reason, had new faces that held the authority in place of the owners, and none of them knew John, nor wanted to and the doors had been slammed shut in his startled face.
And even his one corner of the street, outside the apothecary's office, the place he only came to when he was desperate and afraid-to beg a few pennies from the wealthy that hurried by was now occupied by a widow and her child. John would not consider asking her to move. Indeed he had given the woman his scarf to put around the child and keep her at least a little warmer though still hungry.
So he came to rummage through the bins before old Jim the Clydesdale horse
plodded along in front of the trash collection wagon under the firm hand of Eezekial Jones who was thought, by generations following him to be the father of modern recycling.
He had come to the second to last bin in the park and had just dipped into the contents when his hand struck something hard.
He pulled it out and stood in amazement at the object he was holding.
There in perfect condition was an exquisite music box.Metal with obviously real gold and silver embellishments of flowers and birds upon the face, the music boxIT seemed to be created by someone from a far away place, for nothing was of a genus from his country or any other in this part of the world.
It was the kind of flowers and birds on the box that gave his heart a queer jump, they were exotic and stirred his imagination to places in the Middle East that he had visited in his prosperous days.
John Trent turned the box over and there he read in a rich and ornate calligraphy style of writing done with a thin tool-'To forever and ever,love Adam'
What seemed like an eternity passed as John studied the music box and thought about the price he could command for it through a reputable dealer. He knew since it had been found in the bin he must check with the local constable to see if someone had had it stolen or was searching for it as lost.
With a flicker of hope the young man of twenty and seven walked with vigour the two miles toward the town and then down the main street to the police station.
He tucked the treasure into the pocket of his once fashionable great coat of brown cashmere, not worn thin and frayed at the cuffs , and entered the grey stone building, small and neat and clean outside and in.
He was heard by someone in authority and he checked their files.
'No nothing sir, so whatever its cost it is yours. Finders keepers as the saying goes'
'But in case someone does come by and claim it I shall come by daily for thirty days, to make sure' said John as he turned and went out the door.
'Honest man that' mumbled the officer and then forgot his existance as he turned to weightier matters of the town.
At the end of the thirty days, by which time the young man, much thinner than before and worn out mentally from worrying about where his next meal was to come from, since only two of the original faces he knew from the businesses came back and let him work for his supper,asked the question one last time of the same officer he had asked for the previous twenty nine days.
When he got the same answer he sighed with relief and asked the older man, his face a freindly map, if he would write and sign a letter to indicate John had done his best over a month to allow the owner to claim his or her musicbox and was now at liberty to sell it.
He was granted the letter and made haste to the most celebrated silversmith and owner of a jewelry store.
When John Curtis Trent at last exited the store that oozed with money and aristocratic airs he was a man of means.
For the owner and smith, being a man of great integrity and honesty, said he only knew of three others that existed in the world, he had the catalogue and said he was prepared to pay three quarters of its current value.
'Six hundred pounds!' gasped John who asked the gentleman if he didn't wish to change his mind.
Within three hours he became John Curtis Trent, dressed well if on the modest side of stylish and the joyful occupant of a clean, spacious three chamber flat, all paid for one year in advance.
He felt the air had never been cleaner or life more hopeful and he rejoiced with every bite of substantial delicious food the landlady brought to him on a hand painted wooden tray with a lacey cloth lining it.
In time John felt healed enough from the pain of his loss of wife to death, business to a cheating partner and bitterness from the betrayal of his partner and separation from the one person he had ever truly loved to think about work.
He had no desire to go back to work in finance such as he had been. He did not know what he wanted to do, but the music box kept coming back to his mind and the haunting melody and finally he went to talk to the owner of the jewelry store.
John Curtis Trent could not believe his good fortune.
He was invited to apprentice as silver smith and the good man had promised him down the road to show him how to make really fine music boxes.
And so life went for the young man and it came to be that the only thing missing was the company of a kindred spirit, a best friend in the form of a wife.
Still, he did not entertain the hope that someone could ever come along that he could love as he had loved Gwen.She,like he had been different, shy and retiring and in love with books and music and quiet living. So far, no young lady in his age group anywhere in the town or out of it had come close to what he hoped for.
So he contented himself finally that noone got everything in life and he decided to be grateful and happy in spite of the lonliness that sometimes overwhelmed him.
And t hen one day, five years after the change in circumstances John was busy fashioning the filigree of a wealthy woman's ring that needed adjusting when the bell to the front of the shop tinkled.
His employer said with some exasperation, for he was working on a pear shaped diamond and could not be interrupted'John please see to whoever needs assistance in the front. I simply must finish this.'
Of course sir' answered John and set his work carefully down.
When he came through the door he thought his heart had stopped. For there stood a young woman with such delicate face and coloring and sweetness upon her countenance that he felt she must be a dream.
'Hello sir' she said , I am looking for a gift for my mother who is ill and in need of cheering.'
'Yes certainly miss, what did you have in mind?'
'Well she and I are very partial to musicboxes and so I would like to buy her one.
While John went to the glass case to unlock it and bring out the ten that were available for purchase the young lady began to hum a tune.
John whirled about and exclaimed ' how do you know that tune, for I believe it was created expressely for a certain music box, of whom there are only three in the world.?'
'Oh yes I know, I actually had one of them. And I did so love the box, but I loathed the fellow who bestowed it upon me so I threw it into the bin in the park just out of the town. But how do you know of it? I don't see one of those boxes here.
John's heart beat furiously with the dilemma he was in. If he told her the truth she would know he was a beggar before his fortune changed, and it shamed his heart to think that it was because of this small girl in front of him that he had a bed and supper at the end of the day.
'Oh, I came upon one once and sold it to a jeweler'he said feeling suddenly that the sun had gone down in his life forever and everything seemed dark and sad.
'Well then you must be the gentleman that Mr. Heath here told me about. I am glad you sold it and started a new life. Funny, it was because of a chain of black pearls that my life and mother's changed from poverty to comfort as well.Life can be so odd can it not?'We had to rely on the charity of my uncle after father left us to live with a younger woman and refused to allow mother any living other than what she had when he married her which was not a lot.
Then just like that , John heard his own voice telling the painful truth and then without taking a breath he asked if he might take the girl to tea one day, with her mother of course.
To his heart's joy she said yes.
John Curtis Trent bent down to bestow a kiss on the head of the old silversmith on his way out of the shop that night.
'Now then, what on earth can that be about' said Mr. Heath looking up at John.
'Oh for being so honest and good and sharing good news with people from time to time.'
John went out into the night singing, this time for joy and the old owner of the jewelry shop said to himself 'I only told one person about John. He smiled and said to the air' I was beginning to think my neice and that good boy would never meet.'
And he hummed and chuckled as he worked on the dazzling diamond.