Chapter Three

"Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it." Proverbs 22:6

* * *

Les made it into Robinwood High just in time to begin his class. Mr. Murphy taught the orchestra classes at school. Philharmonic (being the easier course) and Symphonic (being the harder course.) The kids in his class all loved the content and him as well. Even with his attacks and night terror, he was able to paint the idea of being charismatic and kind to his student. Les used his charm to his advantage, as many people would consider orchestra to be boring and not interesting in any sense. “That’s complete nonsense,” Les thought whenever someone confessed this to him. Many times it was relatives he saw very little of, but when he did, they always seemed to want to remind him of it. He would have none of it.

His love of music began when Les was a child. David, his father, was never into music, nor was his mother Diane. David became very vocal to Les when he was a child about the uselessness of music. “Music is nothing but a distraction,” he would say, “all it does is drag you away from real work. There’s no money to be made in it. So many musicians expect a handout because of their ‘talent.’ I’ll tell you something my son: as a lawyer, I have no time for distractions. And if you want to follow in your old man’s shoes, I advise you feel the same.” His mother said nothing. She didn’t have to come up and say that she agreed. Diane Murphy had a silent aura that followed her everywhere she went. You could tell from her body language and facial expression what she thought and what she felt. Les glanced over to her across the kitchen and see her raise her eyebrows as if she was saying, “you do what your father says, son.”

Instead of deterring young Les away from music, it only made him want indulge in it. He wanted to feel immersed in the beautiful sound of instruments till he felt nothing else. He could forget about his distant father and overbearing mother. He could be transported to another world entirely, instead of being stuck in the one he was forced to live in. Les imagined being lifted into the air, up over the clouds, and brought into a world where there was no stress or fear, no misunderstanding or confusion, nothing of the sort. There would be no one there to tell him how to feel or what to think. It would be just him. Les Murphy would have the the option to think for himself and do what he wanted. His father would have no say in the matter and that was perfectly alright.

As Les got older, he fell in love with scores in movies. Particularly, the ones with an epic orchestra leading the way to intensify the drama that was happening on screen. When a movie had a great score, Les could feel the goosebumps run up his skin and felt a cold yet comforting chill crawl up his spine. Les would track down the score of a movie he loved and listen to it over and over again till his ears felt like they couldn’t take anymore. He specifically fell in love with John Williams’ scores. Star Wars, Indiana Jones, Jaws, Jurassic Park, and Schindler’s List. The movie themselves were magnificent, but when the music kicked in, Les forgot about everything happening on screen and closed to eyes to take in everything he could hear. For years he had been searching for that feeling of ecstasy. Now he had.

* * *

When he was eight, he had decided he wanted to take up playing an instrument. His parents would never go for it and buy it for him. Les had been saving up his allowance for some time. He had always preferred saving his money than spending all of it at once. It would remain that way for the rest of his life.

He knew once he got into middle school he could join the orchestra and begin his playing. But there were a few things he needed to take care of. First, he needed to decide what instrument he wanted to play. Second, he needed to save up the money to purchase it. Whenever his father was gone and his mother would be upstairs, Les would go onto David Murphy’s computer and research all he could about instruments and the basics on how to play them. In a string orchestra, it consisted of violins, violas, cellos, and basses. When you got the whole band together, they would consist of those along with trumpets, trombones, bassoons, tubas, saxophones, pianos, guitars, flutes, clarinets, oboes, and percussion. Les considered every single one of them carefully.

In the end, it came down to one and only one. Les was a very big kid for his age. He was much taller than anyone in his class and, by the age of 11, had already developed some muscle tone. From which side of the family this came from, no one knew. With that in mind, Les Murphy decided to take the double bass. It was tall, strong, and loud. The crisp, low tone it produced when played correctly intrigued beyond anything else. He wanted to study it, learn it, play it, and love it to death. He would dream about what it would like with him in the orchestra standing behind the cellos, playing away on his bass, looking like nothing in the world could touch him. Les would dream of all this with a smile on his face and warmth in his heart.

* * *

Les had saved up his allowance for so long he had absolutely no idea how much money he had. Les Murphy kept all of his money in a shoe box and continued to put money into it even as he had to stuff the mixture of small bills and changed. The thought of taking this and buying a beautiful, crisp looking brown bass made his heart drop and throat go dry.

* * *

The Murphy’s house sat up the hill from downtown Robinwood. Just a 15 minute walk and would be near the Rock River that flowed through southern Wisconsin. Downtown Robinwood seemed to built around this river, as bridges were built all across it and a dam was built to keep it at bay. The smell the river gave up made you feel a certain kind of way. It opened up your mind and flooded it with emotion and thought. When the sun was in the sky during a sunset, it glistened off the river and was a sight that would make even the most stoic of a man’s heart ache.  The river looked as if it was so deep that it never stopped moving down. The dark water was beautiful at any time of day, but awestruck the townspeople at sunset. It made Les Murphy sad that not many people outside of Robinwood would ever see it.

* * *

The summer before Les Murphy’s sixth grade year is when he walked down to the local music store and purchased his bass. David Murphy was at work and Diane Murphy was out shopping. As soon as she left, Les reached under his bed for the shoe boxes and put it on his bed. The money became so great that Les had to acquire a few more shoe boxes to fit all the bills and coins. A few nights ago, he counted every single dollar and cent (begrudgingly, he might have added. Les Murphy was already quite good with his vocabulary.) From saving his allowance for what felt like an eternity, shoveling snow in the winter, and mowing people’s lawns, his total amount came out to 467 dollars and 42 cents. Les couldn’t even believe it. He had never imagined it would become this great and reach the number that it did. Les sat in his room for a few moments, staring blankly at the wall with a feeling of disbelief that plagued his body, causing him temporary paralysis. Then his mind snapped out of it and he headed towards the front door.