The cavern passages were long and numerous. Pitch stopped to ask a gray woman directions, but she was just a statue.
A way out (!). But he dare not step into the sun for fear of waking up. He wasn’t quite ready for that.
He tried to orient himself by statues and other objects, such as that barrel in the background here.
Resting both brains and legs for a bit before continuing…
Then suddenly he was upon it: the source of the music from the former dream, although he didn’t realize this at first.
The birds perched on the keyboard urged him forward. “You are a musician like us!” they seemed to warble.
Now Pitch can’t play the piano worth a lick, but when he sat down on the stool and automatically thrust his hands forward, lo and behold he turned into a maestro. And fingering the same tune as heard before: the eerie, quasi-jazz piece with halting ebbs and flows. A composition by Rutherford “Booger” Hayes, he then realized. The first president of the United States that was never president of the United States.
After a couple of bars, he hunched up his legs and took it all in. He’d really and truly found the great 3-n-1 this time. Thank you Melvin. Thank you so much! He couldn’t wait to wake up and tell Mary.
And so he did.
Mary, pack your bags. I’m pretty sure I can see, speak, hear again up there.