Simple Melody

Stomping through the underbrush of the forest, Cressen had to pause as a shrill note hit his ears, curiously tilting his head to see if he could pinpoint the sound coming from deep in the wooded area. After a moment the note hit him again, rocky and forced as if unsure of itself, like a toddler learning how to whistle. It soon was drowning out the usual noise of birds and other critters that called this area home, so far away from the city. As the disjointed note continued into another, slowly it resolved itself into a more familiar tune. One that he recognized instantly. Smiling to himself, Cressen continued down the trail toward his friend’s home, a downed, rusted out hull of a twentieth century cargo plane in the middle of the national park.

Pushing aside a low hanging branch, Cressen ducked beneath it and entered the clearing that Theta had claimed for his own. The reploid stood with eyes closed, his back against the side of the small aircraft, and harmonica up to his lips, now playing a steady melody and mixing notes into a long harmony that Cressen found rather impressive. Despite Theta’s barrier with learning the written word, his skill at mastering music by ear was unmatched by anyone he had seen before.

Without pausing Theta glanced up with emerald eyes, nodded with a brief bob of acknowledgement, and continued unabated as Cressen slipped past him into the open door of the plane. A few seconds later after shedding his jacket and gloves Cressen emerged, guitar in hand and dropped down on the stump in the center of Theta’s yard. After plucking a few strings in experimentation he carefully slid into tune beside his buddy.

Twinkle Twinkle Little Star rose in crescendo throughout the afternoon.