Page 21 of Rock Me

I slide my legs off the bed and pick up the ukulele case with two hands, carefully. I settle back into the chair and lay it on my lap, staring at it for a moment. It's heavier than I remember, or maybe I'm just weaker. I flip the latch open and it clicks in that way that makes me instantly, involuntarily smile.

I pull the ukulele out and close the case.

My fingers twitch, in anticipation? Out of habit? But for a moment, I'm almost too scared to touch the strings. How long has it been? Two years? Almost three? Will I even remember how to play? I cradle the small instrument in my arms for a moment, like a mother coming home after a long work day, getting reacquainted with the precious child in her embrace.

Do it, Noémie. Don't tell me you're scared of a freaking uke. Try it. Just play.

My fingers twitch again. And I move them closer to the strings.

A tune appears as if conjured from the broken recesses of my brain. Let us try, my fingers tell me. And I hesitate for one last moment before I relent. They strum over the strings. It's wildly out of tune, but I don't care.

I want to do it again.

I rotate the knobs a few turns and run my fingers over the strings again.

Better.

And then I play.

The tune in my head stream from my fingers and are transcribed into song.

I giggle, I can’t help it.

Why am I playing a song known for being sung by a green frog puppet?

I don’t know and I don’t care.

It’s making me happy and I’ve forgotten what that’s like.

CHAPTER SIX

Jez

There's the music again.

Except this time, I'm pretty sure I'm awake. I would pinch myself for confirmation, but I can't reach. I turn at the waist and my left hand makes contact with the nurse at the side of my bed, taking my blood pressure and I poke her, my cast digging into her side.

"Ow! Mr. Petrescu, what was that for?" She glares at me and rubs her skin.

"Really, Mister Petrescu? Still? After you've already seen my butt? Toni, please call me Jez."

"That's exactly why I call you Mr. Petrescu, Mr. Petrescu. I prefer to only call people by their first name if I've only seen their butts in a social context."

"Well, come down to our local pub on a Friday, then you'll be among a whole lot of people who have a high chance of seeing my bare butt in a social context,” I grin, waiting for her to roll her eyes.

"Thanks for the warning," she says, shaking her head as she puts the blood pressure cuff away. "Now, what was the pinch for?"

"I was just making sure I wasn't dreaming."

"No, hun, I really am this beautiful after a double shift and complete with Cheetohs’ dust on my nurse’s uniform." She makes an exaggerated model’s pose.

"You are just absolutely stunning, Nurse Toni. But no, I meant... that music, can you hear it?"

"Yes."

"So, we're both dreaming?"

"No."