Sound

Tim flicked a blue marble into a red tin bucket and the clank made him wince. He touched his ears and found the devices and rotated the controls, then he tried again with another marble. This time it sounded just right; he could hear it no longer. Ma soon appeared on the porch and called for him. He didn't respond. He went on to throw more marbles into the bucket until Ma came right up to him and placed her hand on his shoulder. She squatted down on her ankles to face him. She turned his head this way and that and very gently turned the sound back on. "Can you hear me now?" she asked, her voice muffled. Tim nodded. "We'll leave in ten minutes," she said, then patted his head and walked away. Presently Tim stood next to Ma in his formal getup as Da pulled over to pick them up for the concert.

In the backseat, Tim heard Ma and Da talk about the competition. Words came and went and they were warped but he knew the prize meant a lot to them and that he had to win it somehow. And when they mentioned the accident again he repeated in his head the day when he chased after a marble to the middle of a road and the last thing he saw was a bumper of a car, and when he finally woke up, his world had gone awfully quiet. Now he sat in the car with the sound off and he felt peace just looking out the window at the traffic and the people he passed by, until they arrived at the exhibition centre.

Tim stood with Ma backstage. He looked at his fellow contestants moving deftly between the ivory keys, and he looked up at Ma, who had one hand on her chest and seemed mesmerised by the display of talent on the stage. She squatted to check his ears once more and upon seeing that the devices were off she tapped her ear with her index finger, asking him why.

"They make it sound all wrong," Tim said, then at the sight of Ma's sadness he added with a smile, "I know the keys. Nothing's impossible, remember?"

Ma smiled back and kissed his forehead.

Soon Tim presented himself on stage to a full chamber and its muffled applause. He took his seat at the large instrument and positioned his little hands evenly on the keyboard. Ma held her breath. Then when he started to play and his tiny frame shifted back and forth on the stool, the chamber got quieter still, not to Tim but to everyone who was there that night in the presence of his talent and his age. In awe.