پیانوی قدیمی

Chapter four

An Old Piano

One hot summer afternoon Tony, John and Pip were cutting the long grass. The sun was hot and they were tired. Mr Wood came into the field.

‘Now, boys,’ he said, ‘I have a job for you.’

‘He always has a job for us’ said Pip very quietly. The other boys smiled. The farmer liked to keep them busy. They walked with him to an old wooden building near the farmhouse.

‘Now,’ said Mr Wood ‘My new car will arrive here next week. I want this building for a garage. Get the rubbish out of the building. Then clean it really well. I want to keep the car in it.’

‘What shall we do with the rubbish, Mr Wood’ asked Pip.

‘Get rid of it, of course’ answered the farmer. ‘Now stop asking questions, young Pip. I’m a busy man.’ He walked away.

The three boys opened the doors of the building. They looked at the rubbish, then they looked at each other.

‘This is going to take a long time,’ said Tony.

He went to the back of the building. He saw something behind a lot of old boxes. It was very big.

‘What’s this?’ asked Tony.

‘Is it a cupboard?’ asked Pip.

John came and moved some of the boxes. ‘It isn’t a cupboard,’ he said in surprise. ‘It’s an old piano.’

The piano was made of beautiful, dark brown wood. Tony took off his shirt and cleaned the wood with it. He saw brightly-coloured birds, flowers and leaves. They shone like stars in the dark, dirty building. Tony opened the piano. He looked at the keys.

‘We can’t get rid of this,’ he said. ‘We really can’t.’ He found an old, broken chair and sat down at the piano. His fingers touched the keys. He closed his eyes. Half-forgotten music danced through his mind. His fingers began to move. They moved up and down the keys. He began to play an old song. He was suddenly very happy.

‘I can play the piano,’ he thought. ‘Nobody taught me, but my mind tells my fingers what to do, and I can make music’

His friends listened.

‘That’s beautiful,’ said John. ‘What is it?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Tony.

They heard a noise behind them. Linda Wood was standing at the door. She was a tall, thin girl with long, soft brown hair. She was not beautiful, but she had big, kind brown eyes and a sweet smile. She was smiling now, and she was singing very quietly.

Tony heard her and stopped playing. He stood up. His face was red and he felt hot and uncomfortable.

‘Don’t stop, Tony,’ said Linda.

‘I’ve finished,’ said Tony shortly. He closed the piano.

Linda came into the building. ‘Look,’ she said, ‘Mother has sent you some cakes and milk. She asked me to bring them.’

Mrs Wood was a very good cook. The cakes were still warm. They all ate and drank.

Linda looked at the piano. ‘Who taught you to play the piano, Tony?’ she asked.

Tony looked down at his dirty old shoes. ‘I can’t play the piano,’ he said.

‘Yes, you can’ said Linda. ‘I heard you. I have piano lessons at school, but I can’t play like you. I like that song. It’s called Green Fields. I’ve got the music at school, but I can’t play it. It’s too difficult for me. Do you want to borrow it?’

‘I can’t read music,’ said Tony. ‘We didn’t have music lessons at my school.’ He looked unhappy and thoughtful. ‘Music’ thought Tony. He remembered the street musician with his little monkey. Then he thought about Mrs Lark. He remembered those wonderful Tuesday mornings, and he smiled. ‘We sang a little on Tuesday mornings, that’s all,’ he said.

He stood and looked at the piano. ‘I must have it,’ he said to himself. ‘I’ll ask Mr Wood.’

At seven o’clock Tony washed in cold water and put on his clean shirt. Then he went to the kitchen with Pip and John. They sat down at the big kitchen table and Mrs Wood put the food on three hot plates. Then she went to have supper with Mr Wood and Linda.

Tony ate his meat and potatoes and drank two cups of strong, sweet tea. Then he had three small cakes and an apple. He was always hungry. He washed his plate and his cup and put them away.

‘Now’ he thought. He got up and went to the door.

‘Where are you going?’ asked John.

‘I want to ask Mr Wood about that piano,’ said Tony. ‘Pianos cost a lot of money. We must tell him about this one. Then he can decide what to do with it.’ He knocked at the door of the sitting-room.

‘Come in’ said the farmer. He was reading his Farmer’s Weekly. Mrs Wood was mending a hole in Linda’s school dress. Linda herself was doing her homework at the table in the corner.

‘Please, Mr Wood,’ began Tony, ‘there’s an old piano in that building.’

‘I don’t want to know, boy’ said Mr Wood.

‘You don’t want to know’ said Tony. ‘But a piano isn’t rubbish, sir.’

‘It is rubbish, boy. Take it away. Get rid of it. I want that building for my new car. Now go away. I’m tired. I’ve had a busy day and I want to read my newspaper.’

‘But’ began Tony again.

‘I don’t want to know’ said Mr Wood. ‘Go away!’ He shook his newspaper angrily.

‘Yes, Mr Wood,’ said Tony. He went out and closed the door behind him. He came back into the kitchen.

‘Listen - can you help me’ he said to Pip and John. ‘Mr Wood doesn’t want that old piano. He says I can have it. He wants the building for his new car. I can have the piano if I want it. And oh, yes - I want it very much. But where can I put it?’

‘That’s easy,’ said Pip. ‘We can put it on Mr Wood’s lorry. We can take the piano to your house. Your family will love it!’

‘You’ve never seen our house,’ said Tony. ‘It’s very small, and there are seven people living in it. We can’t take the piano there.’

‘Sell it, then,’ said John. ‘Buy something nice with the money.’

‘I don’t want money,’ said Tony. ‘I want the piano.’

‘How can I tell them’ he thought. ‘How can I tell them how I feel about it?’ He looked at his hands. He wanted to feel the black and white keys under his fingers again. He wanted to hear the music in his mind. ‘What’s happening to me’ he thought.

Pip looked at the clock. ‘It’s late,’ he said. ‘And I’m tired. I’m going to go to bed. We can think about your piano tomorrow.’