CFA-1979 (To be read after 'Synthesizer Data Bank')

The sun shoots a brilliant ray of its shine soaring through space, penetrating the earth’s atmosphere, passing a few clouds and offering its salutations to an airplane and its passengers, then just after being gently filtered by an aspen leaf, it sneaks its way through a crack in the curtains, shinning perfectly into Caleb’s now opening eyes. A yawn, a stretch, and a rub. He lies in the afterglow of his dreams. Monday morning. No school for another month or so. Father at work, as usual, and mother still asleep. Caleb, realizing his current state of absolute, though temporary, freedom, decides it best to assume his favorite of household past-times; rummaging where he’s been told not to.

Sneaking between the creaks in the floor so as to not awaken his sleeping mother (a skill acquired from a childhood lifetime of adventures in his hundred year old house), Caleb makes his way to his favorite excavation site, the attic. He’d already spent the bulk of his summer vacation deep in the attic dig, but still there seemed to be an endless amount of surprises awaiting. The day before he had just discovered an old dusty box with the letters “CFA” printed on it, and was about to open it when he was caught by his mother and sentenced to an hour long eternity in time out. He had spent the whole night imaging what those mysterious letters could mean; “Cloud Filled Apples”, “Crooked Fur Alligators”, “Crown Foam Aliens”, “Coastal Flower Astronauts”… But now it was his time, the time to end the mystery.

A burst of air travels from his lungs and out his mouth, the dust from the box’s top spirals into the air. Caleb admires the cloud he’s created. His heart beat quickens as he peels its tape back. Time seems to slow as he begins to remove the box’s top. He hears nothing but his heartbeat. A KEYBOARD!! His eyes glance excitedly across its many keys and knobs and buttons. At the top right corner he sees “CFA-1979” written in an archaic futuristic font. The keyboard, though actually being quite antique and sporting more then a few war wounds, had an air of modern-ness to it. Judging from the amount of sunlight shinning through the attic’s tiny window, Caleb determines that the little precious time he had before his mother’s awakening would soon be running out. So, he grabs the CFA-1979 and stealthy dashes, ninja-like, back to his private kingdom, more commonly known as his “bedroom.” He places the keyboard on the floor just before his bed, to be ready for quick hiding at the inevitable invasion of his mother. Caleb plugs in its cord and switches on the power.

Dim red light, whirring motor. With determined curiosity, he hits a key. A sound emits from the keyboards speaker, (frrrrroooooooommmm). “A car!” Caleb thinks to himself. Excited to explore its further possibilities, he reaches towards a section of buttons labeled “Data Bank.” The individual buttons seem to have once had names, but time had worn their existence. So, Caleb decides to try them all in sequence. He hits the second button, (thuthuthud), a sort of thundering sound. He can’t quite place the sound. He hits the third button, (kak kak kak kak). Caleb instantly imagines a house being built, hammers banging. He hits the fourth button, (Grrrrrrrrrsssshhhhhh), he peers out the window expecting to see an airplane soaring above. The fifth button, (dum dum dum dom dom dom). An unfamiliar sound, Caleb closes his eyes and tries to imagine what it could be. Behind the darkness of his eyelids, he sees a boy wearing a green and white striped t-shirt, brushing his right hand along the bars of a fence. He opens his eyes with a smile and reaches again for the Data Bank. (Bou!), a thick and hollow sound, like a drum being hit. Caleb hits the next button, (errrrruaoooookshhh kssshhererrruuuhhhgg), he jumps frightened by the noise; like giant machines fighting in a metal battlefield. Quickly he hits the next button, (kashhhnkkk), a giant crash! The sound echoes in his head.

“Caleb,” his mother calls from downstairs, “breakfast’s ready.” Seeking resolution from the last sound’s painful shock, he decides to try one more button before making the long voyage down to the kitchen, (errrrrr errrrrrr errrrrr errrrrr errrrrrr errrrrr errrrrr). Caleb giggles to himself as he imagines the boy in the green and white striped t-shirt, doing his laundry. He switches off the power and slides the CFA-1979 underneath his bed; anxiously pondering the continuation of his dabbling.

Red light dims, whirring motors slow.