Out of the Box(35)

The envelope inside took my breath away. I didn’t know my parents had ever received Ceci’s gift. The money would have paid their way in secret across the La Plata River to Uruguay. From there, they would have flown to Caracas, where they could have lived in safety.

For weeks now, I’ve been thinking about how life would have been if their flight had been just a week earlier. I would have grown up with my parents. They might still be alive today.

I have to remind myself that there’s no point thinking this way. Things are as they are, and our job is to make the most of them. I’m donating the money to the Grandmothers of the Plaza de Mayo, who helped me find my biological family. I like the idea that money meant to keep my family together can be used to reunite someone else’s.

I also want this bandoneón, which made my father so happy, to inspire another musician. When I first arrived at Frank’s a few weeks ago, I felt like I was claiming another piece of my identity.

I wanted only to take the bandoneón and go, but I remembered my manners and made polite conversation with Frank and Jeanette. They told me about you and Alison and how thrilled you were this summer to discover the instrument and learn to play it.

Half an hour later, I thanked them and went on my way. As I was going to sleep that night, though, their words about your excitement echoed in my mind. I thought about you, and about me and my family. Although I have my grandfather’s laugh, my father’s passion for music and my mother’s for books, I am not a bandoneón player. This instrument is my prized possession because if its past, but it was your prized possession because of its future.

And so, weeks after I said polite goodbyes to Frank and Jeanette, carrying my treasure in my arms, I am returning it to you, on loan, until you can find a bandoneón of your own. I know you will take good care of it, and I would love to hear you play, next time you’re in Victoria or I’m in Vancouver. When, years from now, you’re ready to give it back to me, I will accept it gratefully. Thank you for returning it, and thank you for making it sing again.

Yours truly,

Facundo

I slip the letter back into its hiding place and stroke the bandoneón with one finger. I can’t stop smiling.

Sarah’s gift is in a box similar to the one I left for her, and a note is taped to the top. I thought you might like these. At the very least, they’ll save you from the boredom of this year’s shopping trip. XXOO Sarah.

Inside is a pile of almost-new clothing, and I soon discover that each piece fits like it was made for me. I don’t look like a model, but I do look good.

Maybe this school year will be different after all, I think, admiring myself in the mirror. Then I pick up the bandoneón and begin to play.