“Band Organ … Myrtle Beach, 1959”
By Ashley Mace Havird
Her small hands are sweaty. She keeps losing her grip. The cherub, mouth open to make it look like it’s singing from the scroll stuck to its little frozen fingers, isn’t supposed to be in the girl’s lap. The organ is ruined without it. One dimpled leg kicked straight out and the other sharply bent, it won’t balance. Stubby silver wings jab the girl’s chest; toes poke her thigh.
Just before closing. Only the three—little girl, older woman, and tall man—are left. Not even teenagers with arms around each other. No one else in the rows of wooden benches in front of the Pavilion Band Organ. The last set of the season.
Stiff-armed angels beat drums, stroke harps. “The Merry Widow Waltz.” ...
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