Chapter Twenty-Three

At the sound of another joining in humming the song, Timmy brightened considerably. Finally someone else knew the music! He followed the man without hesitation to the bench, where they sat, singing out wordlessly the melodies and harmonies that surrounded them.

As the stranger sang out the low thrumming, Timmy sang the trills, the capriccio of birds in flight, winging their way from branch to branch in a warm beam of sunlight. Then they switched, and Timmy sang the part he had heard most recently. He sang it, not as he heard it, but miles above that, within the human vocal range. It was a pure note, steady and strong, with no variance of pitch, volume or of tone, which his young voice could not truly manage. The stranger sang what could have been harmonies or melodies, depending on what else was singing at the same time. Each musical phrase stood on its own, and yet was perfectly in tune with the rest.

How long they sang, neither of them could know. They sang until their voices could no longer maintain pitch and they began to sound raspy.

Timmy was so excited that he actually registered the man with him for the first time. He took in his visual appearance, the scent of the soap the man used, the light in his eyes and the glow on his face. He felt as if he truly knew this man, and this was so exciting that for the first time, the music did not overwhelm him and he was fully present.

“Who are you?” he asked in wonder.

“Walter. But we’ve already met.” With a grin and a nod back at the house he reminded Timmy of their introduction.

Embarrassed, Timmy ducked his head, “yeah, well…”

“It’s okay, Timmy. I understand.” The voice was gentle.

Looking up, Timmy knew it was true.

“So what is it? What is the music? Why can’t anyone hear it?” Those and dozen of other questions pushed their way out of Timmy’s brain, stumbling over themselves on his tongue, giving no room and no time for an answer.

“Timmy. Whoa. Wait a minute.” Walter held up his hand, laughing. Timmy quieted.

“We are hearing the song of the universe. It is the stars, the planets, the mountains, the trees, the wind, the water, the storms and every living thing. Each thing has a part in the song, even the smallest ant, though their song is small and so brief you may miss it.”

“Do you hear that?” he hummed the part he was talking about. Timmy nodded. The music was carrying him away again and he was struggling to stay part of the conversation.

“That is the song of this oak tree as it readies itself for spring.”

The musical firmaments were surrounding him again, and he could see his new friend’s lips moving but struggled to catch part of it. “…hear…birdsong and…learn…become…”

Walter quit speaking, realizing as he looked at the boy that he was no longer able to hear him. Quietly he began to hum the oak tree’s song. Timmy hummed along, absently.

Getting to his feet, he pulled Timmy up and led him back into the house.

The unspoken question was on the Professor's expectant face. He answered it quickly. “Yes. He is a Lister.”