Part One
Benji wasn’t like most kids his age. For starters, his mama was a gypsy. That meant he got teased. And not just a little, a lot. Then, his daddy was an artist. That wouldn’t normally be so bad but his daddy was the messy kind, the kind that got paint all over himself, even in his hair and on his face and then when he did, he didn’t wash it off but went outside, sometimes even to the grocery store. Benji tried not to bring attention to himself, he liked to be invisible. But sometimes, with parents like his, it just wasn’t an option.
Benji had big eyes and a gently round face, two things he thought quite normal about himself. He actually even liked to look at himself in the mirror if he just focused on his eyes and the shape of his face. It was when he looked down, toward his arms and then his hands that he stopped liking what he saw. Benjamin Francis Smart had the most elegantly sculpted fingers the world had ever seen. His grandfather used to say they were made for creating beauty.
Every day after school Benji liked most to go to his grandfather’s house. He had to walk through a forest, down a hill, and around a pond to get there and he didn’t have to pass any of the houses where his school mates lived. Benji thought that was perfect. He liked to walk in silence. Once he got there, Luther, his grandfather’s black lab, always came out to greet him. Benji loved to rub Luther behind the ears. His grandfather said it was because everyone needs to love and be loved. Benji thought he might be right.
The years went by pretty fast for Benji. He never had many friends but he had his grandfather and Luther and as far as he was concerned, they were the best friends anyone could ever hope for. And even though his mama and daddy were a bit different than most, he loved them dearly, too. Benji was a pretty happy kid. One day, however, as it always happens in stories and in life, everything changed.
Benji hadn’t been to see his grandfather and Luther in a few days. He had just been too busy with homework and chores. So when he came home from school and saw his mama crying and when he heard her eek out ‘Grandfather’ through her tears, he knew something bad had happened. As fast as he could, he ran to his grandfather’s house. Without stopping even once, Benji made it all the way to the front porch in no time at all. The door was open.
“Grandfather? Luther?” But there was only silence. Benji was all alone. He peered around the room. There on the kitchen table was an envelope. It said Benji on the outside. He opened it up and this is what it said:
Dear Benji,
I am going away for a while and I want you to know how much I will miss you. Things just won’t be the same without you and Luther. But don’t you worry, I will check on you now and again and will do my best to look out for you no matter where I go. I do have one request of you in return, however. Will you, Benji, will you please take care of my guitar? It’s in the hall closet in the black case. I think it has waited its whole life for you. And perhaps you, too, have waited much of your life for it—you, with the hands made for creating beauty. Please, dear Benji, please give the instrument your love and believe you me, it will return your love many-fold. This, I can promise you.
I love you, Grandson,
Grandfather
From that day forward Benji went nowhere without his guitar. When he took a shower, it sat next to the bathroom sink. When he went to school it sat next to his desk. Even when he ran errands for his mama on his bicycle, the guitar came too, strapped to his back.
Then one day when he was waiting for the bus that would take him to school, Benji strummed a string. He felt a surge of energy rise up from deep within his tummy. “Wow,” he thought to himself, “maybe this is what my grandfather meant. I haven’t ever felt anything quite like that before!” Instead of getting on the bus, Benji turned for the woods. He couldn’t think about school or teachers or math, all he wanted to do was strum those strings. So that is exactly what he did.
ah, Brynne.. this is moves the heart….