Ximena couldn’t find a good excuse to remain outside, so she returned to her books, leaving Jordan alone on the stump. As she studied, she could hear him playing around on the strings, practising chords, moving up and down the scales, as if he was trying to understand the instrument he held between his hands.
She had a lot of questions about that banjo. A gift, he’d said. But from whom? A banjo might be a weird thing to give to somebody around here, but it still must have cost a lot of cash. To simply give it away – why? Had Jordan expressed some desire to own one? Ximena couldn’t imagine yearning to own such an instrument. Why ask for a banjo when guitars existed? She shook her head, turning another page. Outside, the notes began to drift into short patterns, then scatter.
Twenty minutes later, the notes from outside collected themselves into a melody. Whistling began, and soon she found herself pursing her lips and following the tune. It was then that Jordan began to sing. Ximena realised she’d never properly listened to his voice. That day at The House, she’d been so angry about him singing the wrong version of “The House of the Rising Sun” that she hadn’t taken notice of the quality of his pipes.
She didn’t join in, but stuck to blowing air between her lips, while she marvelled at his talent. His sound was low, deep, like the Grand Canyon, but had a gravelled edge like a train rumbling down the tracks. A voice of a man far older than Jordan’s years.
His singing sank into her bones, rattling her soul, as he sang his way through The Dead South’s, “In Hell I’ll Be in Good Company.” This was the type of song that banjos were made for, Ximena decided.
As the final note faded into the dust, she waited for another folk tune. Perhaps one from Mumford & Sons, or maybe The Be Good Tanyas. But Jordan defied her expectations, switching to the late 80s hit, “Fast Car” by Tracy Chapman. It had been a favourite of her father’s. Ximena would never have dreamed it would work on banjo, but somehow it did.
The words of “Fast Car,” a song about yearning to escape to a better life, flooded her with memories of rocking out to the tune with Papá. Without meaning to, she began to sing along. Jordan, still outside the trailer, shifted his tenor, without missing a beat, so that the two of them harmonised. Warmth spread over Ximena, like the morning sun. She found herself smiling wide, as her voice soared.
She was happy, she realised. Truly happy. Been a long time since she’d felt that. It felt so good that when the final note was played, she almost cried out, No!
If only we could live inside our moments, she thought, I’d crawl into that song and stay there forever.
***
Tell us: True joy often comes from simple pleasures. Have you ever experienced a moment of perfect happiness, that you wanted to last forever, during a simple moment? When was it?