GuiTara (RE-WRITING)

🎵~9

Paula's eyes shifted to me, and though I gave her a warm smile, she didn't smile back.

"Esa es mi tia Tara," Keke said to her friend. "La traje para cantar una canción para ti."

Keke gestured for me to come closer. I did, took off my guitar, and sat down on the grass in front of Paula. She shifted backwards, leaving a gap between us. Maybe I shouldn't have sat so close.

Keke sat next to her and crossed her legs. "No tengas miedo de la tía T. Ella no te hará daño."

Pulling out a pack of pocket tissues from my bag, I handed them over to Paula, who stared at me with narrowed eyes. After a minute or two, she gently took the pack from me and pulled out a single tissue to blow her nose.

I waited till she was done before speaking. "So, Paula, what song would you like me to sing?"

No reply. She pulled out another tissue to clean her tears.

"The birthday song?" I suggested.

She shook her head and then said in a very scratchy voice, "Look how high we can fly."

"Ooh, from Barbie as the Princess and the Popstar!" Keke gushed out. "Remember, Auntie T? We watched it together at Granny K's house last year."

"Oh yeah." Now that she had mentioned it, I did remember watching a Barbie cartoon with Keke and Nando in November last year. They'd come down to celebrate Mama's sixtieth birthday. But my problem remained. I remembered the cartoon, not the song. Apart from all the sparkly-sparkly magic performances, Barbie sang a whole bunch of songs. How was I supposed to remember which one was 'Look how high we can fly?'

"Uuh, hang on a sec." Pulling out my phone, I discreetly googled the song.

"Is something wrong, Auntie T?" Keke asked, concern gracing her features.

"Nope, just... doing some research." The world's greatest search engine didn't fail to provide me with the lyrics. My eyes quickly scanned through, hoping to create an acoustic version that would make the girls happy, and after fifteen minutes, I had committed everything to memory.

Pulling out my guitar, I began tuning. I had managed to repair the broken string at the instrument shop Shaun had recommended earlier. Though the big, hairy shop attendant charged me extra because he noticed I was a foreigner, I had to admit he did a great job tightening up the strings. Now my instrument sounded brand new.

"Ok." Letting my fingers dance with the chords, I picked at them a couple more times before starting the song. Paula and Keke must've been quite familiar with the tune because they both perked up in a millisecond.

A smile touched my lips as I launched into the lyrics.

🎶I lost myself today

All work, no time to play

I'm holding on to what I know

Then this discovery

Blindfolded, I could see

I'm catching on by letting go...

The build-up to the chorus was motivational, and I gradually started noticing why my niece's friend liked this song. It was a song meant for kids, but the lyrics felt like something I could relate to.

As I steered into the chorus, Keke and Paula joined in, belting out the lyrics like it was ABC. They both got up to dance, and I joined them, strumming away on my guitar. The other kids, pulled in by the laughter and the music, paused their games to join us in our corner.

With a simple nod from me, they all tumbled towards their two friends, dancing and singing. The smiles on their face brought a sea of goosebumps to my skin. Knowing that I was making a sad little girl and her friends happy with music filled my heart with sensational joy. I'd been sitting on a gold mine of talent. This was my gift, my present to the world.

Though I was a bit sceptical about singing in public earlier, I was glad Keke forced me to do this. It felt wonderful knowing that you were responsible for that bright smile on someone's face, like the one on Paula's face right now. She'd forgotten all her pain and sorrows and happily enjoyed her mini-party with her friends. As she should because birthdays weren't a time of anguish and tears. They were special days to celebrate being born to family, friends, and all your loved ones. It was a special day filled with nothing but happiness. That was what this song was doing for Paula—filling her day with joy and happiness.

Ending the bridge, I entered into the song's last chorus, but this time with the collective voices of all the kids.

🎶Look how high we can fly

Look how high we can fly

We can surf on the wind

So completely alive

There's nothing we can't do

Together me and you

Look how high we can fly!

After humming the last verse, my fingers danced with the chords one final time before bringing the song to an end.

The reel of cheers that met my ears had me floating on cloud nine. It was only a semi-concert with a bunch of five- and six-year-olds, but it felt as if I was on top of the world like I had accomplished something that I thought I never could in a billion years.

It felt like that until a rapid tap on my shoulder brought me back to reality. When I turned, a stiff woman, probably in her late fifties, peered at me through round glasses. "Who are you, and what are you doing in my school?"

The aura surrounding her spelt principal, and my mouth immediately launched into apology mode. "I'm...I'm sorry, ma'am. This was just an impromptu thing for one of your students. I'll... go away now."

Embarrassment crept up my spine as I dashed past the confused kids, pulled my guitar off, and hurriedly located its case.

"Auntie T." My niece appeared by my side.

"Keke, grab your backpack, and let's get out of here."

This time, without hesitation, Keke took off toward her classroom. Zipping up my guitar case and picking up my bag, I hung both objects on my shoulder and turned, only to find Paula standing behind me, another disappointed look on her baby face.

"You're leaving?" She squeaked, holding back another avalanche of tears.

"Oh, Paula." In the next minute, I was down on my knees again, brushing away the wisps of red hair hanging over her eyes. "Don't cry, sweetheart. Look, I'm sorry your parents forgot your birthday. Being an adult is really, really hard, but they'll surely remember it next year, I promise. Until then..." Digging a hand into my bag, I pulled out the Smarties chocolate bar I'd initially bought for Keke and pushed it into Paula's palm. "Why don't you celebrate with this?"

Her small hands held the chocolate bar, and then her eyes flitted to me, and I smiled, "Happy Birthday, Paula."

Her freckled face split into a wide grin, and she threw her arms around my head, capturing me in a hug. "Thank you, Auntie T."

The principal now stood behind us, adjusting her glasses.

"Ok, I'm ready." Keke returned with her backpack.

Paula eased out of our embrace to hug her friend too.

I got back on my feet, eyes on the principal. "Sorry for the disturbance, ma'am. It won't happen again."

Taking my niece's hand, we walked past the women, pretending not to feel a thousand pairs of eyes on our backs.

*****