Mrs. Covington flicked a switch and light flooded the basement. Chris muttered, “Wow!” I simply stared. Wall to wall furniture filled this big underground room. Narrow aisles allowed walking space.
“Right over here,” our hostess said, leading the way to a small, old-fashioned pump organ. Dust lay over the top and on the lid covering the keys.
“Aunt Kezzie gave this wonderful organ to me?” I asked. “What a gift.”
Mrs. Covington smiled. “I take it you like it?”
“Very much,” I said. “I feel humbled that she would think of me for this.”
“As it turns out, I believe that Dennis, our right-hand man, might be able to move this to your house today. He has a pickup truck and he and his helper can haul it for you, if you’d like. It isn’t heavy, really, just kind of bulky.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I want it, yes, but, the rain.”
“We’ll cover it well,” Mrs. Covington assured me.
So it was that, a couple of hours later, my living room had a lovely addition. I grabbed a dust cloth and wiped away a mountain of dust. Soon the old wood was shining. I stood back and admired it, hardly believing my good fortune. A small stool with needlepoint cushion came with it.
“Open it up and play something,” Chris said, running her hand over the lid covering the keys.
“I’d love to.” I grinned and took hold of the edge of the lid. I lifted, but it wouldn’t budge.
Disappointed, I turned to Chris. “It’s stuck or something. It won’t move. Now, what?”
Chris shook her head. “It’s so old and hasn’t been touched for years. It looks like it’s permanently closed.”
Sticking my hands in the pockets of my jeans, I bit my lip and frowned. “Well, it’s certainly a nice piece of furniture. There is that.”
Sighing, I turned toward Chris. “How about another cup of coffee? Then we can go for something to eat. I imagine you’re starving. I am.”
As I drew my hands from my pocket, something fell to the floor. The key!
I picked it up. “The lid’s not stuck,” I said, my voice shaking. “It’s locked. This must be what the key is for. It has to unlock this organ.”
“Is there even a keyhole?” Chris asked, bending over to look at the lid.
I knelt on the floor and ran my fingers over and under the smooth wood. “Yes. Yes, it’s right here. Hard to see, but I can feel a small hole.”
Two seconds later, I inserted that mysterious key, turned it, and heard a faint click. Slowly, I raised the lid to reveal the keys. The ivories were yellowing with age, but they were all there. It looked to be in fine shape.
Chris and I hugged each other. “Mystery solved,” I said. “And, what a happy solution.”
I sat down on the stool and put my feet on the two pedals. “I wonder if it will still play or if it has ruined, after all these years?”
I put my fingers on the keyboard and pushed the pedals with my feet.
“Well?” Chris said, “I don’t hear anything”
“There’s a reason for that. I’m trying, but these pedals aren’t moving. Okay, this organ is becoming a challenge. I’m determined to play a tune, but it sure isn’t cooperating.”
Getting down on my knees, I said, “Shine your phone light down here, Chris. There’s something under these pedals. No wonder they won’t move.”
“Well! Would you look at that?” I muttered. “What in the world?”
“I’d like to look at that!” Chris said impatiently, squatting down beside me. “I can’t see what you’re seeing. What did you find?”
“Two small boxes! They are wedged under these pedals. I wonder if they got jammed in here at the nursing home? They’re stuck tight, but I think I’ve got them out now.”
“What are you waiting for?” Chris asked. “Open them, for goodness sake!”
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