A Short Story…

Mr. James had gone by that name for decades. He had been the boss in a number of situations before deciding to retire. Although he loved flying for years and years, he was beginning to like the possibilities of working with music students, as he had some forty-five years ago.
Mr. James was still getting used to telling people, “Just call me Jimmy.” Jimmy seemed to be more welcoming and the musicians seemed to be looser when he spoke as a simple piano teacher. He now came across as helpful and loving instead of as demanding and resolute.
His new students arrived, mostly accompanied by their mothers, but oddly enough, hardly ever with their fathers. So, he was really surprised when a father he knew from his large flying company showed up. In walked a well-dressed business man. Roberto spoke and said “I want the best, and I have heard so much about you and piano teaching. This is my son Thomas.”
Thomas barely looked up. Roberto continued “Thomas, this is the best teacher I know; he can teach you all the right moves and beats and all that sort of stuff. I just know you will come through the competition with a number of blue ribbons.”
Roberto winked to his son and declared “I used to work for Mr. James. I’m sure he will teach you all that you need to know and you will leave with a number of awards. Mr. James is very demanding and likes to pin point everything to get to the top.”
Jimmy smiled and thanked Roberto for sharing the information. Thomas also thanked Mr. James for telling him about the upcoming work, effort, and results needed. Roberto was just beaming and left with dreams of glory for his son running through his mind.
Jimmy watched Roberto as he left the small studio and walked away. Turning to Thomas, Jimmy simply said, “What do your buddies call you?” Thomas looked up surprised and said, “Really?” Jimmy shook his head and said, “Really!” and waited for a response from Thomas. Thomas looked down at the sidewalk to make sure his dad was gone and said “My buddies call me TNT when we’re out playing football.”
Jimmy nodded and said, “Why do they call you that?” Thomas said, “I hit hard, I force fumbles, and I’m rarely stopped.” Jimmy said, “Wow, at your age that’s amazing! Why does your father want you to do otherwise?” Thomas said, “When he was a kid he had piano lessons and won some award for fifth place.”
“Ah, I understand,” said Jimmy. “What music do you like?” Thomas beamed and said, “I’m a big throwback. I like The Beatles. I sneak into my dad’s collection and play record after record when he’s not around.” Jimmy nodded his head, and simply asked, “Do you think your dad would be happy with a first or second award for one of his favorites Beatles songs?” “Thomas jumped out of his chair and almost shouted “Oh, my god, oh my god, yes!” Jimmy followed up with the comment, “I think we can work a miracle or two in the next three months. Does that sound like fun? Will it make your father happy?” Thomas was grinning from ear to ear and whispered to himself, “Oh, god . . . let this be true!
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