The Record

         Dana loved these afternoons with her grandfather as much as he did. She loved his stories of long ago. He knew so much, he was so wise with all his years of learning. He showed her old pictures of people who were her family. They were dead now, but he made them alive for her again, telling her about their lives, what made them laugh and cry, how much they loved one another.

         This day he got out a large box. “Did you ever see one of these?”

         He took an object from a flat cover. It was round and black and had a hole in the middle. “It’s a record, isn’t it?”

         “Yes. It goes back before we had tapes and eight tracks.”

         She giggled. “What’s an eight track? Some kind of ipod?”

         He laughed, too. “What’s an ipod? I wonder whether this will still play.”

         He brought out something that looked like a little suit case. He dusted it with his hand and opened it. There was a round thing inside. Grandpa carefully placed the record on it. “See? This is a needle, and when I place it on the record, like so, it will play the music that has been in the record all these years.”

         Dana clapped her hands as the music began. Out of the past came the voice of a man singing.

         “Play another one, Grandpa!”

         They sat on the attic floor listening to music that had been silent for years. That was until Grandma called. “Steve? Did you forget you have the heart doctor this afternoon?”

{indent|“Drat! I’m under the gun here! Sorry Sweetie I have to run!”

         Uncle Bill was there to drive him. Grandma called after him, “Don’t forget your credit card!”

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