Martin looked ahead to where the sidewalk blended into the darkness. How perfect. Everything in front of him was murky. The world could come to an end a mile up the road, and he wouldn’t have a clue until he got there and stepped off the edge of the earth.
That described his future, too. Everything ahead of him seemed to be shrouded in darkness. He checked his pockets to verify what he already knew—not a dime. Not anything. All he had with him was a ton of rage and a useless talent for getting people angry.
torchie makes
a joyful noise
“MOM, CAN I go to camp?” Torchie asked.
“Oh, I don’t think that’s such a good idea. Remember what happened the last time you went?”
“I’m a lot older now. And this isn’t regular camp, so there aren’t any tents to catch fire. This is accordion camp.” Torchie pointed to the ad on the page next to the comics. “It’s in Philadelphia.”
His mom leaned over his shoulder. “Oh my, that’s expensive.”
“Yeah, I guess so.” In his excitement, he hadn’t noticed the price. “That’s okay. I don’t need to go.” He enjoyed staying home, especially after having to live away from home when he was at Edgeview. And he liked keeping his mom company since his dad was on the road a lot driving his truck cross-country. But for some reason, he couldn’t stop thinking about Philadelphia. It didn’t matter. He knew his mom was right—the camp was too expensive. And he really didn’t need music lessons. He was learning so much on his own. He could teach himself just about any instrument.
Torchie got up from the table and grabbed his accordion. It was time to entertain the neighbors. That was his mom’s idea. Torchie remembered when he’d gotten the accordion. He’d come home from school one day in April to find the huge box sitting on the porch. He’d carried it right to the living room and opened it as fast as he could. The accordion was way bigger than it had looked in the picture on eBay, and a lot shabbier, but that didn’t matter. He gave it a squeeze. What a great sound. He started right out working on his favorite song. The accordion wasn’t just big. It was also really heavy, which made him sweat, but he didn’t mind. He sweated all the time, anyhow.
“Philip,” his mom had called from the kitchen a half hour later.
“Yes, Mom? Want to hear a song? I’ve got ‘Oh Susannah’ almost figured out. At least, the first part of it.” The absolute best thing was that, unlike the harmonica, he could sing along with the accordion. That meant he could make twice as much music at once.
“Not right now. But you know what I was thinking. I’ll bet that your music would sound even nicer if you played it outdoors.”
“Okay, Mom.” Torchie carried his accordion outside. What a great idea. The sun seemed to be smiling at him, just waiting for a song.
He discovered he liked to stand in the yard near the kitchen so his mom could still enjoy the music. But she’d started keeping the window closed, even though the weather was getting warmer. When he asked her about it, she explained that she liked it really hot in the kitchen so it was easier to cook stuff. To help her hear better, he moved closer to the window. That way, she wouldn’t miss any of his music.
Soon after that, his mom had told him, “It doesn’t seem right that I’m the only one enjoying this. Music is meant to be shared. I’ll bet some of our neighbors would like to hear how well you’re playing.”
“That’s a great idea.” Torchie had gone up the street to Mrs. Muller’s house. He knocked on her door and waited for her to come to the porch. Then he played his best song for her.
“Want to hear another?” he asked.
“Why, Philip, I think your music is so beautiful, you should share it with lots of people. I’d feel selfish if you just played for me.”
So he’d gone to the next house on the block, and then the next. Everyone loved his music so much, they told him he really needed to share it with other people. Some of them even gave him rides to houses far down the road. People in Yertzville really did love their neighbors and look out for them.
As far as Torchie could tell, they also traveled quite a bit. A lot of folks didn’t seem to be home when he knocked, even if their lights were on and their cars were in the driveway. It didn’t matter. Torchie was even happy playing for himself.
lucky has left
the building
“PHILLY,” LUCKY SAID.
“What?” the nurse asked.
“I gotta go to Philadelphia,” Lucky told her. He hated cities. There was lost stuff all over the place, calling out to him. Walking down a city street was like sticking his head into a room with a thousand televisions. But it didn’t matter how much he hated cities. He had to go to Philadelphia. That was the strongest voice. The one that almost drowned out all the others. That was the voice that knew him.