Uncle Bill sat on the old piano stool, Listening to its ancient axle squeak As he slowly twirled higher - Both him and the smooth round seat.
He giggled a little, every turn or so, When he thought of all the years he'd unscrewed that stool.
He reckoned he was forty two , And Miss Margaret Tingle, Second cousin to Senator Styles, Had been play'n the piano for worship, Funerals, wed'ns and Sunday School All the while.
Since the first time he'd discovered That the stool screwed together, He'd been secretly adjusting… So, when Miss Tingle sat down, The bottom of the keyboard Got a dusting.
Margaret never varied her response To this weekly phenomenon. "This church house has got the vibrations!" Her thin lips pursed in aggravation - While she screwed the stool back down.
………………
So the point here is that Bill… well… he knew the value of a good joke between friends. But this thing was some different - Cause he was on the get'n end
……………….
Look'n out over the empty pews He cogitated on The how, when and who. And what he should figure was the right thing to do.
Between his fingers He turned a small marble Bluer than the last one he found. The heavy silence of the empty church Had his imagination swirl'n round.
Were the marbles messages from the Great Beyond? Was someone play'n him for a fool?
Bill was kin to most of the flock, So if one of em needed mental help He was will'n to help rewind their clocks!
On the other hand,
If some young buck thought he was be'n funny, Bill figured maybe the prankster should Learn a lesson - applied liberally - On his fanny.
…………..
Bill walked to the back coat closet. To record the weekly deposit. Crowded in there was a roll-top desk File drawers, one grimy porthole window From a retired shrimp'n boat, And a small box made of whale bone.
Four marbles rested inside.
As Bill stared at the marbles in the bone box shine, A new song entered his mind.. "All of this… every bit…" The marbles sang - "Comes from sand."
Bill stared hard at the marbles…. Gasping, he grabbed for the desk as he felt The dirt shift Far under his feet. When it stopped, he stalled and stood silent and straight. Then he stuffed the Sunday take Into a blue bank bag and, Carefully, put it on the floor beside the front door.
Strangely outside himself Bill walked to the piano stool and felt his eyes burn As he lowered the seat.
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