No Guitar Blues Pdf No Guitar Blues Short Story Text
THE NO-GUITAR BLUES
PART ONE Dreams
Fred's eyes always lit up when he saw musicians playing their guitars. He had been watching the music channel for years, but he never thought that he could become a musician. That afternoon F red knew his mission in life: to play guitar in his own band.
Fred didn't know how he could get the money to buy a guitar.If he asked his parents, they would probably say, "Money doesn't grow on trees" or "What do you think we are,bankers?" And besides, they hated rock music. They liked classical music like Beethoven and Bach.
Fred thought he had nothing to lose, so he would try. He went into the kitchen and watched his mother make dinner. He stood there, trying to be brave enough to ask her for a guitar. Finally, he couldn't wait any longer.
"Mom," he said, "I want a guitar for Christmas."
She looked up at him. "Honey, a guitar costs a lot of money."
"How bout for my birthday next year," he tried again.
"I can't promise," she said, turning back to her cooking, "but we'll see."
Fred knew his mother was right. His parents couldn't afford to buy everything he wanted. Fred decided to try to get a job. He got onto his sister's bike and rode north to the nicer part of town.
He went from door to door, but after three hours he got only one job.He was asked to hurry down to the store to buy a loaf of bread, and he got 25 cent. He also got an orange, which he ate sitting by the road.
While he was eating, a dog walked up and sniffed his leg. Fred gave him a piece of the orange, and the dog ate it up quickly.
"How come you like oranges, dog?"
The dog looked at Fred with sad eyes.
At that moment a light came on inside of Frid's head.He saw that it was sort of a fancy dog, with dog tags and a shiny collar. This dog looked like he belonged to rich people. His idea just might work. He called the dog,petted it,and looked carefully at the license on the collar.
"Great, " he said. "There's a name and address."
The dog's name was Roger, which made Fred laugh because he had never heard of a dog with a human name. Dogs should have names like Bomber, Freckles, Queenie, Killer and Zero.
PART TWO The plan
Fred planned to take the dog home and get a reward. He would say that he had found Roger near the freeway. The owners would be so happy that they would probably give him a reward. He felt bad about lying, but the dog was walking around free. And he might even really be lost, because the address was six blocks away.
After a few minuts, Fred and the dog got to the house. Fred stood on the porch for a few minutes thinking. He had come this far, so he thought he should just do it. He rang the doorbell. A man opened the door and seemed surprised when he saw his dog and the boy.
"sir," Fred said, holding Roger by the collar, " I found your dog by the freeway. His dog license says he lives here."
The man looked at Fred a long time before saying in a pleasant voice," That's right." He asked Fred to come in."So he was by the freeway?"
"Uh-huh."
"You bad dog," the man said, wagging his finger.
Fred didn't say anything. He looking around, amazed by this house with its rich furniture and a television as big as the front window of his home. He smelled pancakes and heard music coming from another room.
"Helen," the man called to the kitchen. "We have a visitor."
His wife came into theliving room smiling. "And who have we here?" she asked in a very soft voice.
"This young man saaid he found Roger near the freeway."
"It was very nice of you to bring Roger home," the woman said. " Where do you live?"
"By the flower shop on Olive Street," he said.
The wife looked at the husband, then at Fred. Her eyes lit up as she said, "Well,young man, you are probably hungry. How about a pancakes?" She took Fred to the kitchen and gave him a glass of milk and some big pancakes. He ate with both eyes on the man and woman who stood there smiling at him. They were strange, he thought. But nice.
"That was good," he said after he finished eating. "Did you make them, ma'ma?
"Yes, I did. Would you like some more?"
"No, thank you. I have to go home now."
As Fred walking to the door, the man took out a bill. " This is for you," he said. "Roger is special to us, almost like a son."
Fred looked at the bill and knew he was in trouble. Not with these nice people or with his parents, but with himself. How could he have lied like that? The dog wasn't lost. It was just have fun on a Saturday afternoon.
"I can't take that."
"You have to. You deserve it, believe me," the man said.
"No, I don't."
"Now, don't be silly," said the lady. She took the bill from her husband ant put it in Fred's pocket. " You're a lovely child. Your parents are lucky to have you."
Fred went out, and the lady closed the door. Fred felt like ringing the doorbell and begging them to please take the money back, but he knew they would refuse. He hurried away and, at the end of the block, took the money out of his pocket. It was a twenty-dollar bill.
"Oh, man, I shouldn't have lied," he said to himself.
PART THREE Doing the right thing
Fred rode homeslowly. He couldn't the money in his pocket. At home, in his room, he looked at the twenty-dollar bill. He had never had so much money. It was probaply enough to buy a second-hand guitar. But he felt bad.
The next day he dressed for church without anyone telling him. "I'm going to church, Mom," he said. She was in the kitchen cooking.
"Oh, I'm so proud of you, son."
At the church he sat near the front. When the priest began talking, Fred thought he was looking right at him. Could he know? Fred felt very guilty.
He prayed and sang. But he couldn't forget the man and the lady and the pancakes they had given him. They had really tasted good.
Fred was thinking about the basket that they had in church every Sunday .
People put money in the basket for the church. He never had any money to put in it but today he did.
When the basket came his way, he put his hand in his pocket and pulled out the twenty-dollar bill. He dropped it into the basket.
Fred felt much better after church. He went home and played soccer in the front yard with his brother and some neighbor kids. He was so happy that he played one of his best games ever.
Just for one second, while he was looking at a hole in his good pants, he wished he hadn't given the twenty dollars away. ''Man, I could have bought me some good pants,'' he thought.
Fred had to forget about getting a guitar. But that night during dinner, his mother said she remembered seeing an old guitar the last time she cleaned out the father's garage.
''It's a little dusty ,'' his mom said, ''but Grandpa says it works. I'm sure you can have it.''
It was the happiest day of his life. No, it was the second happiest day of his life. The happiest was when his grandfather put the guitar in his arms.
Fred ran his finger down the strings . It sounded beautiful anf deep. A big smile was on his face.
''OK, kid, now you put your fingers like this,'' said his grandfather.
He took Fred's fingers and put them on the strings. Fred made a few sounds. The guitar was not as easy to play as Fred had thought. But he was sure that after a few more lessons he could start his own band and that someday he would play on stage for dancing crowds.
by : Aya Raed Higaze
Source: https://sites.google.com/a/albayan.tzafonet.org.il/klsjklc/unit-1
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