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Timmy hears things that no one else hears. Is he going crazy or is there something out there? If something is out there why doesn't anyone else hear it?

All work herein is Copyrighted and may not be distributed or published without the prior consent of the author. Copyright 2006, 2007. Kim Bentz. All rights reserved.

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Kim Bentz, Writer and Photographer, living in Viriginia (Washington, D.C. metro area). Graduate of Colorado Springs Christian School, Student at American Military University. Government contractor by day. 

Kim lives with her husband of 30+ years, nearly 2000 books, a great collection of jazz records, and thousands of photographs taken all over.

Tuesday, December 12, 2006

Chapter Twenty

“Mr. and Mrs. Tucker.” He had a European accent they could not quite place.

“Yes?” They turned to face him. He had a long, pointy aristocratic face with a very neatly trimmed goatee and wire rimmed glasses.

“I am Andres Visvaldis, from Julliard. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He stuck out his hand very formally and with a slight bow.

“Nice to meet you, Professor Visvaldis. I’m Will Tucker and this is my wife, Emily.”

“Please. Call me Andres. May I walk with you?” Without waiting for a response, he began walking up the aisle. They kept pace.

“What can we do for you?”

“Ah, Emily. It is what I may be able to do for you.” He sounded rather smug or certain of himself.

“What do you mean?”

Professor Visvaldis turned to answer Will. “You are confused about your boy, yes?”

“Well, yes.”

“And you are vondering vhat is happening and vhat to do, yes?”


“This is what I am here for. Glenda called me and told me of your concerns and faxed me your son’s music.”

“Glenda?” Mr. Tucker asked.

“Mrs. Clark.” Mrs. Tucker answered.

“Will. Emily. Can ve go have a cup of coffee and talk?”

They glanced at each other and shrugged.
They met a few minutes later at the diner on Main Street, ordered their coffee and a large cinnamon bun to share.

“Listen.” They leaned toward the man with the strange light in his eyes. “ I think I know vhat is happening here. I have seen this once before, and hearing the music makes me almost certain I am correct. I can’t really explain just now, but vould you mind letting me meet your son and bring a friend vith me? I think I could arrange this in two or three veeks.”

They looked at each other, each giving the other a small nod.

“Okay, Professor.” Not knowing what else to do, they drank their coffee, ate their cinnamon bun and made strained small talk, although their guest seemed perfectly comfortable.

As they were exchanging phone numbers, Mrs. Clark reached out and put her hand on the professor’s arm. “Can’t you tell us anything?”

He halted a moment. “I vish I could. I do not know that I could really explain it properly, but my friend can, if the boy is in the same situation as my friend. This is vhy I vant to bring him vith me. He vill know for certain, and if it is not that…well, ve vill vant to discuss his further musical training in any case, yes?”

Their drive back to the farm was mostly silent as each puzzled over unimagined possibilities for their boy.

Nearing the drive, Mrs. Tucker turned to her husband. “If this guy from Julliard knows what’s happening to Timmy then he’s not going crazy or something, right?”

“I guess not.”

“Well. Then I’m relieved.” With that, she smiled and gazed out the window absently.


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