Gauche the Cellist and Other Stories
Page 5
Chapter Five
The next evening also, Gauche had been practicing his cello all through the night, and with dawn approaching, had started to fall asleep with the sheet music in his hands, when something knocked at the door. It was so faint, it was barely even audible, but this being a nightly occurrence, Gauche soon called out, “Come in!”
Making its way in through a gap in the door was a field mouse. With it was a tiny baby mouse, and together they scampered over toward Gauche. The baby field mouse was no bigger than an eraser, and Gauche couldn’t help but laugh. The mouse stopped in front of Gauche, staring up at him as if wondering what he was laughing at, before placing a green chestnut at its feet and bowing politely.
“Master Gauche, this child is not well and looks like he might die. Have mercy and save him please.”
“But I'm no doctor!” answered Gauche somewhat bewildered.
The mother mouse looked down at the ground briefly in silence, before speaking with renewed resolve,
“Master Gauche, that's a lie. Master Gauche, haven't you been healing everyone's illnesses every day with such great skill?”
“I don't know what you're talking about.”
“Why, it was because of you the bunny rabbit's grannie got better, and it was you who healed the raccoon dog's pa; you even healed that mean-spirited horned owl, so it would be terribly unfair if you didn’t help this poor little one.”
“Hey, hey, this is some kind of mistake. I’ve never healed no horned owl. I must admit there was a little raccoon dog that was here last night practicing for his band…Hmm…,” Gauche looked bemusedly down at the baby mouse and laughed.
The mother mouse burst into tears.
“Oh, if he had to be sick, why couldn't he have been sick earlier? Just before you were playing with such gusto, but you stopped just when he started to feel sick, and now you won't play no matter how much I beg you. Oh! What an unfortunate child!”
“What!?” exclaimed Gauche in shock. “Are you saying that the horned owl and the rabbit got better just because I was playing the cello? How does that work? Strange...”
The mother mouse wiped away its tears with a paw.
“Yes, all of the animals in this area, whenever they get sick, they climb under your floor so they can get better.”
“And they get better?”
“Yes. Some feel better straight away, their circulation improves through their whole body and they feel terrific afterwards; but some have to wait until they get home before they feel better.”
“Ah, so that’s it. What you are saying is that the sound of my cello makes all of these vibrations, and that works like a massage, and makes you better? Right. I get it. Let's give it a try,” said Gauche, his cello giving out a ♬-gyuu gyuu-♬ sound as he gave it a quick tune, before plucking up the baby field mouse and squeezing it through a hole near the bottom of the cello.
“I'm going too. They’d let me in any other hospital,” cried the mother mouse, jumping up on the cello like a lunatic.
“I'm not sure you'll fit,” said Gauche, and tried pushing her through the hole as well, but she could only get her head half-way through.
Flapping and flailing, she cried out to her little one,
“Are you alright? Did you land with your feet together like I taught you?”
“Yup. I landed good,” said the baby mouse in a tiny voice like a mosquito from the bottom of the cello.
“He'll be right. Really, you can stop crying,” said Gauche as he placed the mother down, picked up his bow and launched into a rhapsody with great gusto. The mother stood anxiously listening to the sound of the cello, but then, as if she couldn’t take it one second longer, cried out,
“That's enough! Please, let him out.”
“Huh, is that all you want?” asked Gauche, and he leaned the cello on its side with his palm over the hole and waited for the baby mouse which eventually popped out.
Gauche quietly placed it back on the floor. The baby mouse stood with its eyes closed tightly, shaking and trembling all over.
“How was it? Are you Ok? How do you feel?”
The baby mouse made no reply but continued shaking and trembling with its eyes closed until all of a sudden it got up and started running.
“Oh, he's better! Thank you so much. Thank you so much,” said the mother mouse running around with her son, before stopping in front of Gauche and bowing deeply,
“Thank you so much. Thank you so much,” she said at least ten times.
Gauche felt a little sorry for them,
“Hey, do you guys eat bread?” he asked.
As if taken by complete surprise, the mother mouse cast her gaze nervously around for several moments, before replying,
“I may be mistaken, but I have heard that bread is a very delicious food made by kneading and baking flour which rises all soft and fluffy, but no Master Gauche, we have never been inside your pantry and, certainly you have been so good to us, we would never steal from you.”
“No, that's not what I mean. I was just asking if you eat it. So you do right? Wait a second. I'll give you some for the little one’s sore tummy.”
Gauche lay the cello on the floor, grabbed a chunk of bread from the pantry and placed it in front of the mother mouse.
The mother mouse was beside herself, laughing and then crying and then bowing, before placing the bread delicately in her mouth, and with the little one in front of her, headed out the front door and off home.
“Ahhh. Talking to mice can wear you out too,” said Gauche, collapsing into bed and falling fast asleep.