by JL Bryan
Chapter Twelve
In Mitch's garage, Mitch sat at his keyboard and Dred sat behind her drum kit. They stared as if Jason and Erin had lost their minds. It was Thursday afternoon, the first time all four of them could get together.
“I'm serious,” Erin said, holding up her new, rune-engraved harmonica. “Magic instruments.”
“Right,” Dred said.
“There are two more.” Jason took the two remaining toy-sized instruments out of the cardboard box he'd brought over. “Dred, obviously you get the drum. So that leaves you with the harp, Mitch.” He gave Mitch the little silver harp, and Mitch just looked at it, puzzled.
“How am I supposed to play this thing?” Mitch asked.
“You'll see.” Jason held out the muffin-sized drum to Dred, who just stared at it like it was a dead fish. He set it down on her snare drum.
“This is really sad, you guys,” Dred said. “How can you both go completely insane on the same day?”
“Let's just play a little,” Erin said. “Watch.”
Erin started the tune to “First Road Out of Here” on her harmonica. A cool breeze passed through the hot garage, stirring some magazines stacked next to Mitch's keyboard. The Claudia Lafayette poster on the wall billowed out at the bottom, since it was secured only by thumbtacks at the top.
Dred and Mitch looked at each other while the gentle breeze tossed their hair.
Jason joined in, and the breeze became hotter. The guitar was warm.
The little wind stopped when Erin lowered the harmonica to sing the lyrics. The song conjured intense feelings in Jason, a combination of loneliness and wanderlust and a touch of nostalgia, a stronger reaction than he’d ever had to it before.
“Those are amazing,” Mitch said, when Erin stopped singing for a harmonica interlude in the middle of the song. Mitch strummed the little harp with his fingertip. “Great sound, but how do I play it?”
“Turn it on its side,” Jason said. “Pretend it's the strings of a piano.”
“It won't work that way,” Mitch said.
“It will in a minute.”
Mitch rolled his eyes and turned the harp on its side. He tapped at the strings, as if his fingertips were the hammers inside a piano. The harp expanded and reshaped itself, growing more strings in between the existing ones. A keyboard grew out of the side facing Mitch, the black keys made of onyx, the white made of opal.
“Whoa!” Mitch stood up and backed away. “That's all kinds of messed up. What's happening?”
“It's adapting to you,” Jason said. “You have to keep playing so it'll finish changing.”
“Changing into what?”
“Whatever works best for you.”
Mitch played the keys, and the strings vibrated as he did it, though there weren't any hammers tapping them. A gleaming silver lid unfolded from one edge of the harp and closed over the strings. Buttons made of gemstones blossomed across the top, imitating his synthesizer keyboard.
Mitch shook his head, but he kept playing. The keyboard's sound was deep and rich.
Dred just gaped. She hadn't touched the little drum Jason had given her.
They reached the end of the song.
“This must be some kind of weird dream,” Mitch said. “I'm dreaming, right? This can't happen.”
“Let's do another song,” Erin said.
“How about 'Nuclear Morning'?” Mitch suggested. “I want to hear how that sounds on these things.”
Erin started with the harmonica part, and Jason and Mitch joined in. Dred sat back, arms folded, shaking her head.
The keyboard sprouted silver wires that snaked around and plugged into Mitch's other keyboards, as well as the small laptop he kept connected to increase his range of sample and sound options. The old keyboard and the laptop turned silver, and the fairy runes etched themselves all over the surface of them, as if the magical instrument was infecting them like a virus.
“Whoa, whoa!” Mitch backed away again. “That is crazy.” Jason and Erin stopped playing.
“Keep playing!” a voice yelled.
The elementary school kids from Mitch's neighborhood who sometimes watched them practice, two boys and a girl, were standing in the driveway. All three were watching the band intently.
“Mitch, the audience demands more,” Erin said with a grin. “Are you ready?”
Mitch looked at Dred, who still had her arms folded. “Dred?”
“I think you're right, Mitch,” Dred said. “I'm the one having a crazy dream. I'm just going to sit here until I wake up.”
“It's not a dream,” Jason said. “These were made by fairies—”
“No, no, I heard the story,” Dred said. “It's nonsense. This is all just...nonsense.”
“Play some more!” another kid demanded. A fourth kid, one Jason hadn't seen before, who had just arrived on a skateboard.
“Something for the skater kid,” Erin said. “Which song do you think, Mitch?”
Mitch looked between Erin and the kids. “Um...Cinderella Night? Fast?”
“Fast,” Jason agreed.
They played, and the kids danced to rapid tempo, though Dred still hadn't joined in on her drums. During the song, more kids showed up dancing in the driveway and the front yard, including middle and high schoolers, as if the music had drawn them all out of their homes and down the street. It was turning into a semi-outdoor concert.
With three of the fairy instruments going, the guitar in Jason's hands really started to buzz and cast off heat. Fortunately, the keyboard seemed to turn the hot wind circulating inside the garage into something wet and cooling, like the breeze off Lake Wisota.
Energized by the growing audience, and unregulated by any drummer, Jason, Erin and Mitch kept accelerating the song, playing an extended instrumental version of it. The dancers moved faster with them, colliding with each other and laughing. One of the girls in the audience waved her iPhone around, capturing images of the band and the dancing crowd.
Mitch went wild on the keyboards as he grew familiar with his new instrument. Erin and Jason stepped back and let him have an extended solo. He played as if possessed, his tongue sticking out of his mouth, his hands a blur across the keys, the assorted gemstones on the keyboard case glowing brighter and brighter.
Jason watched the crowd, amazed at how they'd come from nowhere.
Erin nudged Jason, and he looked back at Mitch. Blue steam erupted from the gemstones, forming into a cloud around Mitch, but Mitch either didn't notice or didn't care.
The cloud grew larger and drifted through the garage, passing over Jason and Erin. It was cool and refreshing, not hot. No wonder Mitch didn't mind.
It drifted out, with a trail of cool blue steam still feeding into it from the keyboard. The cloud expanded as Mitch's solo continued, and it rose above the crowd.
Mitch hit a crescendo and leaned back, dropping his hands in his lap. He was drenched in sweat and gasping for air.
The cloud rumbled, and then dumped rain all over the dancing kids.
The audience shrieked and scattered, all of them dripping wet and laughing. Jason watched them spread out through the neighborhood, jostling each other as they ran.
“Did that really just happen?” Erin asked.
“Which part?” Jason asked her.
“Any of it. That was unreal.”
“Oh, man,” Mitch said, wiping his face with his T-shirt. “I love this keyboard.”
“This is too crazy for me,” Dred stood up, tossing her keys in the air. She left the little fairy drum where Jason had placed it, on top of her snare. “I'm going for a milkshake. Anybody coming?”
“Why don't you stay and try out your drum?” Erin asked.
“It's not my drum,” Dred said. “And I don't believe in magic.”
They watched Dred climb into her van and drive away.
“Man...I love this keyboard,” Mitch repeated. He was staring at it with a crazy grin.
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