The Sound of Mewsic
Even though cats spend most of the day dozing comfortably, we like our humans to keep busy. Not in a noisy or intrusive way of course, but just active enough to entertain us during those short intervals when we choose to be awake. Why else do you think cats have a favorite seat on your cupboard, bookshelf, windowsill, or countertop. Don’t you get it? YOU are our source of entertainment!
Yesterday, my top shelf siesta was disturbed by the growling of a large delivery van. Its engine proceeded to idle noisily belching a stream of dark fumes as the building's omniscient doorman Anthony appeared, looking like a SoHo native in his impeccably cut Isaac Mizrahi suit. I enjoyed watching Anthony every day as he leaped curbside to open taxi doors or signed papers held up by uniformed drivers with a swift stroke of his hand. This time, he was assisting five burly men with lowering a massive wooden crate from the rear doors of the vehicle.
A sharp buzz on the intercom sent Dad flying down the stairs. This sudden onset of activity was more than I could take, and so I hopped down from the bookshelf to investigate. Minutes later, the front door burst open and the same large wooden box loomed over me like a giant sewer rat.
“And how are we this morning?” Anthony asked (his standard opener) with a wide beaming grin that made him look like the Cheshire Cat.
“Very well thank you Anthony,” Dad said. “Now remember, we’ve got to be as quiet as possible, okay?”
“Oh, of course Mr. Martin,” Anthony replied, with a finger held vertically on his lips.
Dad directed all the men toward a bare space at the far side of the living room. Whatever the blanket-swathed object was, it was being treated with the utmost care by the two men and Anthony. They rolled the object carefully across the polished parquet floor before beginning to undo the blankets, belts, buckles, and ropes holding it in place.
I decided to roam around the box to sniff the pungent, full-bodied fragrance of furniture polish. I even spotted a few weirdly shaped brass pedals protruding from the bottom. But before I could make any sense of it all, the massive shrouding lifted with a flourish and revealed a black lacquered mahogany exterior.
A collective, audible gasp went across the living room. Then came another, even bigger gasp.
“Martin!!! What the hell is going on here?!?!”
All eight heads turned to look at front door. It was Mum—standing by the front door. The black centers of her eyes were wider and the deep, red color of her cheeks had drained away.
”Happy birthday my love!” Dad said. Ironically, his cheeks were now filled with that same deep, red color. He turned to face the piano, extended his arms out wide and said, “Ta-daaa!”
Mum’s mouth gaped like a fish out of water. It kept moving up and down but there was no sound. Then, she ran across the living room and flung herself into Dad’s arms. I heard the puckering sounds of their lips coming together a few times. By then, things started to get awkward for Anthony and the delivery men, and so they took this as their cue to scuttle away without notice.
“Are you kidding me? A brand new piano? I…I don’t—I just can’t believe it Martin!” Mum exclaimed.
In fact, this was the first piano I’d seen up close, even though I was very familiar with the sounds it made. Mum and I had spent many hours in the living room where she would shut the door and read a book or enjoy a meal while listening to live concert broadcasts from the New York Philharmonic. These special moments had been my cultural education. And just knowing a thing or two about the amazing versatility of the piano made me even more eager to hear one in real life.
Mum pulled up a bench and sat down. She then lifted the lid to reveal a gleaming keyboard and ran her fingers lightly along the shiny surface. Suddenly the room was filled with the most intense spine-tingling, claw-curling, whisker-quivering music imaginable. She swayed her head side to side taking in the wistful melody and lilting arpeggios with her eyes closed and her lips curled into a smile.
“Bach’s Prelude in C Major,” she said after the short piano piece ended. “Isn’t it exquisite? It’s one of my all-time favorites.”
Mum deserved a round of applaws. Her piano prowess combined with the tuneful melody stirred up so much depth and emotion in me that I felt blissed-out. Lost in reverie!
”Thank you Martin. This really is the best birthday gift ever!” Mum said as she opened her arms to invite Dad in for a hug. As she turned to look at me, I could see a sparkle in her eyes. I knew that expression. Joy! Just like mewsic, it was palpable. And it never failed to make me purr.