My hope was that he not play any sound to suggest I’d been a cruel and heartless warden which might ring true to anyone placed in dark solitary confinement over a long period of time.
Jimi the Guitar had remained locked and untouched in his case for the last two years without food and his drink had long evaporated.
My hands shook as I put a new key in the lock and when I opened his cell my eyes watered because he looked exactly the same as the day I threw the key away yet I felt he wasn’t the same.
Picking him up I laid him in my arms and my hands stopped shaking. Running my fingers over his strings all my fretful energy disappeared into his hollow.
I’d never really learned all I wanted to learn about him before throwing the key away and I never told him it was my key and not his that had been thrown.
It didn’t matter though because nothing and no one left in the dark are robbed their freedom of choice.
Jimi had a choice to succumb to his state in the belief that darkness was fate or he could seek the light and patiently await the key.
Holding him in remembrance I softly began humming and when our frequency wasn’t reflected back to me I knew the tuner died in the darkness but I continued because my ears knew he’d remained perfectly attuned.
Maybe like me he realized the way we’d been built never required a tuner, that our frequency was perfect and playing our song in the key of light had been worth the wait.