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David M White

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Pathy's Violin
by David M White   

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Copyright:  2010


After the death of Pathy's grandfather she finds her normal world in free fall. Pathy, a talented teenage violinist, discovers that reality and fantasy can be one and the same. Tragedies and triumphs await her as she discoveries the solution to the mystery presented by her amazing late grandfather, James Faden.

The loft was lit by the subdued light of early dawn filtering in through a dusty window. It fell upon the wood floor like a sparkling fairy dusted path of light. Against the wall to the left there appeared to be several worn wooden crates with smaller plastic containers full of different stringed instrument hardware. Pathy glanced around for the green trunk. Her heart was beating rapidly against her chest. She stood there for a good five minutes with her eyes scanning back and forth from wall to wall and floor to ceiling. She finally came to a point where she was beginning to convince herself that it was just a dream after all. There was no trunk here she thought. Just when her disappointment was setting in a tiny field mouse ran across the path of light on the floor. Pathy jumped back in surprise.
She wasn’t really afraid of mice, but she was barefoot, and didn’t want the little critter climbing over her toes. The mouse slid into a small crease of an old canvas tarp draped half on a ladder back oak chair, and half on the floor. She tip toed over and lifted the edge of the tarp off the floor. The mouse was gone, but there behind the chair, and hidden by the tarp was the dull dark green trunk! The metal of the keyhole latch sparkled like a diamond on display in a jewelers showcase. Pathy threw the tarp to the floor and scooted the chair out of the way. Her eyes rose to the dark shadows between two rafters above, and there hung on a nail was a key ring with several small keys. She couldn’t reach them from the floor so she scooted the chair back in place, and carefully stepped up onto the seat. Now she could reach the elusive keys.
Pathy held the keys to her chest for a moment and her eyes were moist. She backed down from the chair and sat on the floor her bare knees supporting her forehead. Her mind told her this cannot be real. She wanted this to be true but it couldn’t be. She looked over to the waiting lock. “The trunk, the green trunk, it is here just like Grandpa said it would be.” Her voice broke the silence. She crawled forward and examined each key. Each had a number engraved upon it. She held the lone key with the number nine engraved on it close to her eyes. “Grandpa?” The silence again broke like glass. Her hands were shaking as she placed the key into the lock. With a click it turned easily, and to her left and to her right she unsnapped the two metal clasps, then she lifted the trunk’s lid back to rest against the wall. She peered into the dark trunk, and lying in the bottom was a red velvet blanket. It resembled a miniature sleeping bag. She could tell that something was inside the pocket of this covering. She gently lifted the dream that was a reality up out of the trunk. She carried it to the chair and sat there with the smooth material pressing lightly across her bare thighs. She sensed that what was within did not weigh very much. She lifted the flap of material on one end of the bag and reached within seeking with her fingers. Holding her breath she touched and slid out the body of a black leather violin case. After opening the case her tears became a river. Between her sobs she spoke, “Grandpa” Stroking the finish of the expensive instrument, “Oh Grandpa.” An envelope was pinned to the inside of the lid - It was addressed in her Grandfathers handwriting with two single words “For Pathy”

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