Evening Mood

By Midnight Rose 1992

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It was a quiet evening in Father’s Library chamber. The Tunnel patriarch was at his desk contently reading his favorite work by William Shakespeare, The Tragedy of Richard the Third, while cross-referencing the text with Israel Gollancz’s Temple Notes.

Across the large, two-story chamber, made small by the sheer volume of books stacked against its walls, was a cozy sitting arrangement. It was comprised of two miss-matched Victorian high-backed parlor chairs, a worn Greek-Revival love seat and Shaker coffee table piled with more books just like every other horizontal surface in the room. Vincent and Catherine lounged on the loveseat. Catherine sat at the one end, her knees pulled up and balancing both courtroom transcript and notepad in her lap. Her cold stocking feet were tucked under Vincent’s thigh, where he sat at the other end of the short divan; his guitar propped on his crossed legs.

The tawny leonine man was serenading father and wife with soft classical guitar renditions of Bach’s Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring, and Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata, among others. He was playing the haunting strains of Romeo and Juliet’s love theme, when Kanin broke the candlelit serenity by bounding down the circular staircase to deliver a Helper’s message to Father. Vincent continued his calm playing, uninterrupted, even when Kanin came over to listen as he finished.

"No country pick’in t’night?" Kanin grinned. Last night the underground community had gotten together for a rowdy evening of country songs and dance.

Before Vincent could reply, Catherine gently rocked her mate with her toes and chimed, "Vincent is in a warm and fuzzy mood tonight."

*****