Jamming

Miss Kitty hurried home, fed and watered Miss Patches, watered her garden, and texted Miles. "I'll be over in a few. The documents will take a couple days to process. Have the instruments." She turned off her phone, jumped in her car and headed to Harold’s cabin. She worried about the water level in her cistern, but scolded herself. She said, “Don’t go borrowing trouble, Kitten. The cistern is half full, not half empty.”

She hummed one of her favorite songs, “I Ride an Old Paint,” as she attempted to avoid the bumps, dips, and crannies in the dirt road. She felt like her car was the ball in a virtual game of pinball, and her job was to get it to the cabin without breaking a tie rod or damaging the suspension.

She pulled into Harold’s driveway in a huff of dust, jumped out of her rig, and pulled Harold’s new parlor guitar at of the back seat. Fiddlin` Red had checked the instrument and tuned it. She thought it sounded fabulous, and hoped it would cheer Harold up. She also grabbed Harold’s fiddle. Fiddlin` Red said Blondie, Harold's fiddle, was a vintage German instrument made in the early 1900s. Blondie was in excellent condition, and Red put on a set of new strings. When he played it, it purred like a satisfied cat.

“Miles, Harold,” Miss Kitty shouted. “I come baring gifts.”

Miles, perched on his bodhran, clapped his hands. Harold, half materialized in his rocking chair, still wearing a pink bathrobe, stood up slowly.

“Thank-you, Miss Kitty,” he said.

Miss Kitty handed him his new guitar. He set the coffin case on the floor, opened it carefully, and pulled out the Washburn Parlor guitar.

“Oh my,” Harold said, strumming an A chord. “She’s beautiful and she sounds incredible.” Harold fingerpicked Maple Leaf Rag, his body filling out and the smile on his face blossoming like a rose.

“Let’s jam,” Miles said, dancing across his bodhran.

“Can I borrow your fiddle, Harold,” Miss Kitty said. “I forgot mine.”

“It’s all repaired?”

Rather than use words to answer him, Miss Kitty removed the fiddle from its case and started playing Stones Rag. Harold added a bass line and backed her up flawlessly, and Miles continued dancing on his bodhran, using his tail as the main meter. The three musicians continued playing until it was well past Miles' bedtime. Yawning, Miss Kitty went to the bodhran where Miles had fallen asleep, and covered him with one of Harold's pink handkerchiefs.