The clarinet here, the clarinet there, the clarinet is going everywhere!

We have a story to be told, where once we played, our hearts so bold. A little joke inside a musical play, more then we could possibly say. Charlie Brown was the show, where Sally asked where the bench would go. A line throughout the story was if, “it would go here or go there.” So I asked Mrs. B. privately, with the most tender care. “Mrs. B, are we putting the clarinet here, or are we putting the clarinet there?”

Ms. B. and I got along about almost everything. We played this, we played that, we played outside and played in the pit where we sat. She gave the cue, I played it through, even the solo with the kazoo! But there was one thing we couldn’t agree upon, with eyes, she would shrewdly stare. It was, “Are we putting the clarinet here, or we putting the clarinet there?”

It was the beginning of spring! The orchestra was preparing its pieces for the show, and the director began clapping his hands! “Everyone! Listen carefully! This is our last rehearsal before the grand opening, and I want this to be our best rehearsal before it.! Remember! Be on point, work as a team, and have fun! All for one!” the Director sounded off! “And one for all!” the Actors responded.

I took my place upon my seat, where Mrs. B. eyes and I would meet. She raised a hand and all the band would play its musical feat. We swung a string and blew a horn, the drums would stir beyond the norm, while Sally asked before the team would dare, “Let’s put the bench here, or let’s put the bench there.” So she looked at me with big eyes and she whispered in the air, “Are we putting the clarinet here, or are we putting the clarinet there?”

The show went on, the nights went by, the crowd would applause and eyes would cry. A song of happy joyful days, and where happiness surely stays. Snoopy scruffed,, Lucy puffed, Schroeder smacked Lucy and said, “Enough!” Charlie awkwardly stared as the red haired girl went by, until the show’s ending was all but nigh. But the question still lingered despite the end of more then what we could bear, “Are we putting the clarinet here, or are we putting the clarinet there?”

Years after high school would surely pass, we conform with other adults before the mass. We said goodbye and leave the state, or stay with others who can relate. So she messaged me on my phone with a question that brought my stomach despair. “Are we putting the clarinet here, or we putting it he clarinet there.” I gave a shrug with no surprise. This inside joke almost never dies. It comes goes, and surely stays, then pops back up when we go in our ways. And so I told her with utter surety, regardless of how it where, “I can either put the clarinet here, or put the clarinet there.”

The clarinet here, the clarinet there, it apparently goes with me everywhere! This inside joke of that never dies, and makes us laugh and brings out cries. I kid you not, it never shall stop, it’s a surprise our sanity doesn’t flop. The clarinet goes there, the clarinet goes, a clarinet should clearly be going everywhere! So then I became curious if she would take dare. I asked, “Do you want pickle Jell-O shots?” She paused for a long time, throughout the minutes, throughout this rhyme. She then responded with, “Die in a fire, child.”

The end.

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