Horace's Story

Horace needed to play an instrument, or at least, that was what mom said. It was supposed to make him well-rounded and interesting or something, but he thought he could better be well-rounded by eating cookies. Parents said odd things sometimes.

Anyway, he was being dragged kicking and screaming to the music store, so he figured he ought to at least look around. His mother had promised him he could try to choose and instrument of his own to play if they both agreed.

The store was bright and large, with some old-fashioned sounding music playing, at least at the entryway. Back along the sides of the store, he could see people testing out pianos and guitars. Okay, so maybe this wasn’t so bad. Grinning at his mother, he immediately gravitated towards the drums. They were loud and would irritate mother for having forced him to learn music. He would make her regret her desires, all with the start of one great drum solo.

Smiling an evil smile, he sat down, grabbed a pair of drumsticks and proceeded to make some noise. Strangely it was harder than it looked in music videos. He had no rhythm, and it was very hard to get all the sounds going at once by using both of the foot pedals and both hands. He put the drumsticks down, sad and dissatisfied with the effort it took to produce such mediocre results.

 Next, he went to the pianos, because mom thought it was a good idea. He tapped a few keys and decided it was dull. The electric keyboards were cool, if only because they seemed to have a thousand buttons. One even had silly sound effects, like animal noises. Still, it wasn’t for him.

Then they rushed past the flutes and brass instruments. He didn’t like the sounds of them or the looks. No way was he going to get beat up for being a band geek. Violins looked so boring, but the electric guitar was the ticket, right? He threw the strap over his shoulder, grabbed a practise pick, let the guitar settle naturally into his hands. He raised the pick, let it fall, and then shuddered at the awful noise he created.

Sighing, mother led him to the final section. An older gentlemen sat on a stool, running a long bow across the strings of a cello. The melody was haunting, and the sounds were deep and rich. Instantly, Horace felt something he hadn’t expected: the desire to learn and play.

 The man showed him how to place his hands on the instrument and bow, and within moments, a single clean note was heard. It was a rewarding feel, and he fell in love with this instrument. “Mom, this is it!” he announced. “I can live with that.” the mom declared, pleased as pie.

 While his mom paid and got accessories, he listened to the old man play, and even had a chance to play a few more clean notes out of the instrument himself. It was love at first listen.