Ben Merriman Mouse Bells There was a jeweler who, by chance, could not practice her trade in her native Caribbean, but was instead forced to open a shop in the northern marches of the Dakotas. During the winter months her shop nearly always stood closed, for she could not brave the cold and wind. She sheltered in her old, drafty house, where she had only the mice for company. To keep her skills finely honed during the winter months, she began to fashion tiny cuffs, on which she hung tiny bells, each laboriously tuned to a different pitch. She trapped the mice, and affixed a cuff to each, so that for a time her house was filled with subtle and wandering music. She spread crumbs throughout the rooms. During the day, while the mice hid, the jeweler would catch only the occasional, crisp note. At night the concert began, and over the Plains wind she could hear a trill, a play of notes, a wobbling and dissolving chord. She fell asleep thinking of warm places. In time the mice learned to walk splay-legged, and the bells ceased to ring out. But by then the first crocuses had begun to push up through the Earth.
24
Merriman