MUSIC


—Juaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan, Juaaaaaaaaaan, Juaaaaaaaan! Somebody shouted in the night… since there must be a million Juan’s where I live, I did not paid much attention.
—Dad, I think somebody is calling you.
—You think so son?
—Yes, I think so.
—Do you know who it is?
—Let me go and find out.
—Very good then.
I returned to what I was doing: trying to persuade a friend —by writing— that “things” pretty much remain the same, it is human beings that change.
—Dad, it’s grammas friend.
—Thank you for looking soon.
—You are welcome Dad.
I walked towards my door and noticed she was already at the courtyard. I approached her.
—Hello.
—Hello Juan. Do you know where your mother is?
—I don’t know.
—Do you know what time she’ll be back?
—No.
— She supposed to meet me here. Can you take me home?
—Why don’t you wait a little bit longer…and see if she comes back?
—Okay, I will do that.
I walked back to my room and closed the door. The music was still on, the same song I have listened to many times, the same song that tells me something new each and every time. I remember something I read many years ago, it was a list about the most important things for people, number one was water, number two was food or shelter or something like that; what got my attention was that number five. It was music. Maybe if the lady waiting in the living room for my mother, maybe if she listened to some music she would feel much better. While the children were playing at being the coastguards, I was considering if English or Spanish is the better language. The better language to explain life. Perhaps music can heal cancer. The tingling of the guitars… the affirmation of the base… the unquestionable markings of the drums… the playful organ… the giggles that hide in the keyboards… the soulful sax… the soothing voices… the aftermath of the band.
—Juaaaaaaaan!
The same voice calling one more time. I felt better, readier, happier, determined to do what is proper and good. I stood and walked towards the door once again as I said:
—I’ll be right there!