Secrets of the Old Music Room

By Christy Wilburn Nobella Webb

The Amazing Secret of the Player Piano... 
Being a teenager in 1968 comes with its own set of challenges, but Debra is focused and knows what she wants: the most important thing in her life is music, and if she works hard enough, one day she will inherit her grandfather’s wonderful baby grand piano. Money is tight for Debra&rsqu

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stratton Press
• Release date: Aug 14, 2018
• ISBN: 9781643451510

Christy Wilburn Nobella Webb

Christy Webb has been an avid reader all her life. She especially enjoys a fun romance with unexpected plot twists. Ever since she was a little girl, teachers and friends have begged her to share her funny life experiences by turning them into delightful and memorable fictional stories. She lives in Utah with her loving husband, who is the perfect role model for all of her heroes!

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Christy Wilburn Nobella Webb

SECRETS OF THE OLD MUSIC ROOM

Copyright © 2018 Christy Wilburn Nobella Webb

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Stratton Press, LLC

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Cheyenne, WY 82001

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1-888-323-7009

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in the work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Shutterstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

ISBN (Paperback): 978-1-948654-84-5

ISBN (Ebook): 978-1-64345-151-0

Printed in the United States of America

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Dedicated to the memory of my grandfather Horman.

I will always be grateful for his love of music and the desire to learn he instilled in me!

I hope music lovers will enjoy the play on the musical terms!

Chapter 1

June 1968

Debra pulled into the driveway of her grandfather Herman’s duplex, driving cautiously after recently obtaining her driver’s license. Her parents still worried about her ability to drive and had forbidden her to drive on the freeways until she had more experience. She knew her friends would be mortified with the strict rules she was required to obey; however, she didn’t mind as the novelty of driving hadn’t worn off yet, and she enjoyed every opportunity she got to drive her family’s 1966 VW bug. She pulled on the emergency brake and slipped out of the adorable red bug, quickly reaching behind the seat for her bag of items to keep her occupied while she watered her grandfather’s yard. He was out of town on vacation, and her mother had told him not to worry, promising they would take good care of his yard, watering and picking up his mail while he was away.

Debra had turned seventeen last October and was a slim girl of average height, with silky strawberry-blonde hair that flowed gracefully about her shoulders. She had a dusting of light freckles that covered her porcelain face, enhancing her large sapphire-blue eyes. Her brilliant white smile was contagious, and she didn’t mind showing it off now that she had gotten her braces removed. Licking her full lips, it still amazed her how large and smooth her teeth felt after two years of wearing braces. Turning the key, she unlocked the front door and upon entering her grandfather’s house, decided to open a few windows to air out the musty smell that permeated the closed up home. Walking into the kitchen, she placed her bag and purse on the kitchen table and unlatched several windows, pushing them open to invite in the sweet-smelling summer fragrance. The neighbors to the west were mowing their yard, and the scent of fresh-cut grass eased itself through the open windows, providing relief from the enclosed stuffiness. While she studied which part of the yard to start watering first, she could hear laughter in the air, conveying the message that people were enjoying their summer. Making up her mind to begin watering in the backyard, she walked to the kitchen door to go outside.

The duplex had an unusual floor plan, which seemed very old fashioned to her. After you exit the door out of the kitchen, there was a landing with a short flight of stairs placing you inside the garage. Once in the garage, you could turn to the right to the door that led outside to the backyard, or you could turn left and go down another small flight of stairs that led to the basement. Turning to the right, she went through the door to get to the backyard. Locating the hose, she unwound it, screwed on a circular sprinkler attachment, and then made several attempts to place it in just the right position to get the best coverage. She hoped the neighbors weren’t watching because she was sure she looked ridiculous, getting completely soaked in the process of trying to position the hose in the perfect spot. However, she had to admit that the shower bath did feel refreshing on this ninety-three-degree day. Checking her watch, she noted the time in case she forgot to set the timer when she went back inside. After closing the doors and going back to the kitchen, she picked up the old-fashioned timer on the stove and twisted the dial to the fifty-minute mark, listening to its steady tick tock, tick tock.

Strolling into the living room, she couldn’t help admiring the magnificent baby grand piano that rested in the north end of the room. At the south end of the room was a large organ. Her grandfather loved music and enjoyed playing the piano and organ. He also had an incredible gift for playing the harmonica and could keep her family entertained for hours with his music and storytelling. She smiled as she remembered each time he visited their home, always requesting that she play whatever song she was currently learning on the piano. He would follow up her performance with a statement like, "Keep practicing, the grandchild that practices the most will one day inherit my baby grand piano when I go and join Grandma in heaven." She couldn’t resist walking over to the baby grand piano and took a seat, reverently admiring its beauty before beginning her practice session by warming up with several major scales. The notes resonated perfectly on his amazing piano, and she attributed it to the lid being open, allowing the notes to flow freely from its inner depths. She secretly hoped that she would be the grandchild that practiced the most and would inherit his precious piano!

The kitchen timer buzzed, and she reluctantly got up from the piano to go and change the sprinkler. She checked the area that had been watered and was relieved to see that its placement had reached the corners of the yard as well. After moving the sprinkler and making several adjustments, she was able to reposition it to one last spot in the backyard and hurried back into the kitchen to set the timer. While going up the stairs to the kitchen, she thought about the rooms in her grandfather’s basement. One of the rooms had been converted into a workshop where he crafted violins and grandfather clocks. After Grandmother Herman passed away, he had immersed himself into his music and had devoted his time to his hobbies in order to stay busy and not fall prey to depression or loneliness over the loss of his sweetheart.

Debra looked at her bag on the kitchen table that contained beautiful skeins of yarn to knit a stylish sweater. She had received the yarn and pattern for Christmas and had been steadily working on completing the sweater. Her mother could sew, crochet, and knit beautifully and had encouraged her to develop her talents. Today would be a perfect day to work on your sweater dear, her mother had informed her as she was getting ready to go. She politely agreed; however, she had to be in the mood to knit, and she was more in the mood to explore her grandfather’s basement.

She quickly exited the kitchen, taking the short flight of stairs to the garage. After arriving in the garage, she turned left, hurrying to the next flight of stairs leading to the basement rooms. She walked forward to the closed door and cautiously turned the doorknob, excited to find the door unlocked. While opening the door it made a loud creaking noise as her hand fumbled to find the light switch. Turning on the light, she slowly took in the surroundings of the old music room. The room was large and spacious, and the last time she had spent time in it was at Christmastime. Every year this room was converted into a dining room by setting up tables and chairs in order to accommodate her mother’s siblings and their children, which consisted of approximately forty people. With the tables and chairs put away, the room looked larger and even more spacious.

Debra continued to survey the room, especially enjoying the display of her grandfather’s incredible hat collection on the walls. He loved to travel and had collected hats as a souvenir from each state or country he visited. Upon his return home, he carefully hung each treasured hat on one of the walls. She thought about the slide shows she had endured over the years, listening to the elaborate details of what had motivated him to choose that particular hat to remember his trip by. Glancing around the room, her eyes stopped on the old pipe organ resting in a corner of the room. She laughed when she remembered sitting on the bench and pushing with all her might on the pedals to produce even a small squeak that couldn’t be considered music. Smiling, she remembered another time when she and several cousins had joined forces to push on the pedals while her grandfather magically played beautiful notes.

In the far north center of the room was an old player piano. She remembered the first time her grandfather had attached a white scroll of paper to the piano and then sat down, pushing the pedals with his feet. Magically the music flowed from the piano while invisible hands played the keys. This was by far her grandfather’s favorite instrument, and the grandchildren had been given strict instructions not to touch or play the piano without his permission. She couldn’t resist the urge to go and sit at the piano. Happy memories soon flooded through her as the piano seemed to welcome and invite her to play it. She wished she could remember what buttons to push to make the piano come to life. Looking around, she was surprised to see a scrolled paper already attached and ready to be played. Normally the scrolled papers were kept in a locked box by the side of the piano. Sliding the bench forward in order for her feet to reach the pedals, she used all her energy to push down on the pedals. Nothing happened. She stood and pulled the bench a tad bit closer, once again pushing the pedals with all her might. Still nothing happened. Maybe if she gripped the piano with her hands and put all her strength into her legs, it might give her the leverage to pump the pedals, creating some music. Without realizing it, her fingers triggered the mechanism that caused the piano to awaken from its long winter’s nap. An unusual tune began to play, and suddenly the keys on the piano magically began to depress at periodic intervals. She jumped with the sudden eruption of music and the movement of the keys flashing before her.

Within a minute or so the unusual music ended, and to her astonishment an apparition of notes began drifting out of the top of the piano swirling around her. She immediately wished she hadn’t touched the piano and wasn’t sure what to do to make the notes go away. Too frightened to move, she watched as the notes continued to circle, taking on the form of a personage. Good day, young lady. Whom do I have the pleasure of meeting on this fine summer day? the distinguished stranger asked.

Debra stared in shock and amazement and opened her mouth to reply; however, nothing came out.

"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Middle C at your service. You beckoned me. How may I be of service?" While waiting for her response, he removed the top hat from his head and bowed magnificently, as if he had just received an award from the most prestigious butler school. He appeared to be middle aged, with a receding hairline and a round chubby face. His physique was pear shaped, and he wore an immaculate tuxedo with tails. She could hear his buttons creak and groan as they stretched to accommodate his most scrupulous bow. While watching him, she couldn’t help noticing that his shoes sparkled brilliantly, appearing like they had just been freshly polished at a shoe shine store.

Ahhhh…I’m not sure. I didn’t know I beckoned you, Debra managed to stammer.

I must say I was quite surprised to see someone of your delicate years capable of summoning me. Be that as it may, I am here to do your bidding. What is it you would like me to assist you with?

Are you like a genie?

"Good heavens no! I don’t grant silly wishes. I am here to educate and support your musical vocation. Please get on with your request. I have others I need to attend to as well!"

Could you give me some suggestions so I can choose what service would be most beneficial? Debra asked carefully while desperately trying to think of something.

"Certainly. Again, I am Middle C and am the mediator between the two musical staffs, Treble and Bass Clef, both of whom are very opinionated about how things should be arranged. Don’t mind my pun, but if you knew Treble and Bass Clef like I do, you would agree wholeheartedly with my assessment. I could give you a personal tour of either staff, whichever you would prefer. Or perhaps you have a favorite composer you would like to meet. I can make the arrangements in a reasonable amount of time. Possibly you would like to take the grand tour of our scales. Would you prefer the major and minor scales, or maybe you would enjoy a remote trip through the harmonic or melodic scales, where only the more experienced music traveler goes. These are just a few of the places we can begin with. What would be your pleasure, young lady?"

How long does each trip take? What would I need to bring with me? How are we going to travel? Debra asked curiously. "I don’t mean to be ungrateful, but most of the composers I know have long passed away. How would we go and see them?"

"That, my dear girl, is the magic of the music business and my specialty. I have a most useful metronome that I can set to whatever time period I desire, and it is very meticulous about beating out whatever tempo I request. Not too many of these left in the world of music