Walking back from your house
Walking on the moon
Walking back from your house
Walking on the moon
Feet they hardly touch the ground
Walking on the moon
My feet don’t hardly make no sound
Walking on, walking on the moon
The Police
The lesson concluded with a swiftness that bore credence to the phrase, “time flies like an arrow; (fruit flies like a banana)” She recalled sitting down, the pleasant interaction that followed and somewhere in-between the lesson itself, time not only flew it literally shot out like an itinerant spring from a cheap watch. Standing at the threshold of the door and sharing the usual polite pleasantries between teacher and student, she waved her hand as a casual adieu and decided to take the stairs ‘a piedi’, and with that she galloped down the stairs, lengthening her stride as much as her balance and internal equilibrium would allow. On exiting the building, she noticed that the warble of the birds was sung with more verve and melody and the hum of the city traffic was a little less chaotic, even the South Easter wind – the infamous Cape doctor – suddenly reduced its mighty gust, all this contributing to a stillness that Lisa had not felt for a long while, she resolved to treasure this moment, and perhaps even dry-freeze it for later use. She resumed her joyful gait and even added an extra bounce on every second heel strike as she sauntered her way through the traffic, she reflected on the lesson, she thought of how good the bass guitar felt in her hand. Now its presence felt equally comfortable strapped to her back, the long walk breezed by and by the time she got home, she had drawn several conclusions. Firstly – bass guitar is so freaking cool! And secondly; when could the next lesson be confirmed? A quick WhatsApp returned with a confirmed lesson and time.
Late afternoon had brought along a setting sunshine that now flooded her lounge with the Fauvist combinations of red and orange hues. She settled into an evening repose that consisted of hot water and lemon and a quiet reflective time as she viewed the setting sun with a mixture of nostalgia and inner contentment. What trickery is this she pondered? This overwhelming sensation of warmth and thoughts of procreation? Not last week at this time she was racking up the pool balls and casting aspersions on any weakness she may have detected in her opponent. Now she’s sipping a warm beverage before the setting sun! What would Johnny Cash say? A plot change without the required imbibement of a shot of the notorious Mexican hooligan juice.
Strange days have found us
And through their strange hours
We linger alone
Bodies confused
Memories misused
As we run from the day
To a strange night of stone
The Doors
She tidied up and retired early to bed before the day became even stranger.
The next morning commenced with the panicked realization that another bass guitar lesson was planned and she had not yet practiced and if she wished to take the short cut to greatness – she best start fiddling those frets. She leapt out of bed as much as her early morning torpor allowed her to and headed to the lounge where her bass guitar sat forlorn and unpracticed. She reached for its slender neck and rested its curvaceous body across her naked thigh. Today’s drills from her bass guitar drill-sergeant involved fretboard knowledge and muscle-aching PT for her left hand as it performed finger calisthenics up and down the fretboard, not too dissimilar to grunt army recruits huffing and puffing around the parade ground. On completion, she went through the regular morning rituals – too boring to repeat for the reader. (Yes, you lying on that red divan; I heard that sigh of relief)
Lisa arrived at the apartment of her music teacher, noticing the light flutter of her heart as she made her way up the stairs, a palpable unease as she rapped and tapped the door to announce her arrival and with a 4/4-time rhythm to allow entrance into the hallowed academy. The door opened and in picture appeared Jake, resplendent with a three-day facial growth, disheveled hair and grey sweatpants with virgin-white T-shirt to complete the ensemble.
“Well, good morning to you Professor”, piped up Lisa, her high-pitch octave deserting her once again. “I gather you slumbered well; your creased-face suggests as much”
“Yes, I did”, he answered sleepily, “You do realise that you are two-hours and one day early” he added with has much as a neutral facial expression he could muster under these trying conditions.
“Oh, dear!” blushed Lisa. “Did we not say 10 o’clock this morning?”, now trying to find clarity on this faux pas.
“No, we agreed on 12 o’clock for tomorrow”, expressed with another neutral expression resolutely fixed on his face.
“Goddamn! well since I’m here already, is there any chance you could fit me in with another lesson? … pleeeeeze!” Lisa now considering genuflection to sweeten the deal.
“Well ok, come in” replied Jake, realising that any further discussion on this matter would be futile, recalling yesterday’s experience.
They stood at the threshold for a brief moment, neither one making any concerted effort in any direction. Lisa decided to move the day along; “Stand aside kind sir, aspirant bass player coming through!” She breezed in a parked her perky self on the expansive divan and in one expansive movement pulled out her bass guitar and had it settled across her lap. She looked up and beamed; “Ready!” Jake was sitting opposite to her, coffee in one hand and bad intentions in the other. Lisa caught the brief glance of his eyes as they dropped from full facial attentive-focus to the ever so brief peer at the naked space in-between her skirt and the beginning of her fishnet stockings. A peer was so much better than a leer – the difference between curious investigation and a sideways glance of some kind of intent – this pleased Lisa.
This proved to be too much for Lisa, and when found in these intimate situations she usually resorted to acts of silliness. There was no holding back. “So, I was thinking, and I do think a lot, perhaps at times people would say that I’m too much in my head,” she paused for breath, “Be that as it may, the conclusion that I have arrived at is …” she now paused for dramatic effect, “Do you ever loosen up?”
Jake sat on the other side of her, displaying patience of a saint. He was torn between his role as a music teacher and his apparent attraction to Lisa. Her appeal vacillated between her charm and her annoyance. He gazed at her for a while wondering what he should do next; assume an indifferent attitude towards and continue the lesson, cancel the session and put it across to her that he feels that she does not show any promise and walk over to her side of the couch and take her in his arms. All three of these decisions presented their own shortcomings. He did notice that her gaze was locked onto his like a tracking beacon on a warhead. To his surprising relief, it was she that stood erect from the couch and walked over to his side, she bent over and turning her head to one side softly enraptured his lips with hers. “I thought you may have needed to kiss me” being the last clear words he heard before the rush of chemicals surged through him like electricity. As his pants were pulled off his legs, he knew Lisa had gained the upper hand – but he didn’t really mind.
Your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew her
She tied you to a kitchen chair
She broke your throne, and she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah
She left Jakes’ apartment not too early the next morning, with her dignity marginally intact and redolent wafts of love permeating the air. “Well, that went way better than expected” said Lisa to no one in particular as she descended from the apartment, to enter the blinding light of morning and self-reflection. “Coffee! “, said Lisa, again to no one in particular. (Once again demonstrating that coffee is a drink drunk with gusto as opposed to its quieter tea-infusion cousin). The journey home, this time courtesy of an Uber driver (verified three times before she entered the Toyota Tazz) was a pleasure trove for her wandering thoughts, she replayed, paused and rewound various enticing titbits of wonderment. And as she sat back enjoying the panoramic view her memory played for her of last night’s experience, she found the memory recall to be both pleasurable and enticing – so much so that she was about to ask the Uber driver to head back. This notion however made her to abruptly stop this monkey brain testament, lest more concrete plans took place. She quickly placed any nesting instincts in the bottom drawer of her memory drive, to be retrieved later if needed.