Der Drehorgelpeter und Lola (The Music Box Man and Lola)
She found them in the park, next to the music box. Two strange old birds, flocked together though of quite a different feather. One man, one parrot—they made a special pair.
They matched, each with a bright red vest, pebble black eyes, and a rather rounded belly. Except that the old man’s eyes were spectacled and his face a little more spotted. A splat on his head, his hair dripped down his forehead. The bird’s feathers were far more groomed.
Neither one said much—the box made enough sound for the both of them.
On one side stuck the handle—on the other, a pole poked its head above the old box, forming a cross on which the parrot perched. At the tippy-top of the pole hung a bright rainbow umbrella for a cap. On the box itself sat the old bird’s bread and the old man’s bowl of soup.
He played soup-stained coffer now, his elbow creaking as he churned the metal stick on the side. As the trunk of tunes began to purr, the melody rattled the contraption down to the black spindly spokes on which it sat, or rather, rolled.
It was this jangled jingle that drew the girl. When she saw the pair, she slowed and spun around for a second look.
They squinted suspiciously as she parked her bicycle and strode across the sidewalk towards them.
“Hallo!”
She paused, recognized their reticence, and then courageously continued.
“Foto?” Her fingers queried, framing a rectangle in front of her face.
She waited as the old man raised his one-and-a-half eyebrows, while the parrot shifted his position.
“Ja.” He sang it more than said it. She was surprised at how easily it flowed from his permanently pinched pucker.
She decided to capture the colorful characters in black and white—they’d hurt your eyes otherwise.
Of course, they posed the same, each with chin tipped down and head slightly cocked to the right, except the old man’s half eyebrow twitched as well.
It was perfect. And all three knew it.
When she showed him the photo, the old man whistled low and long, which the bird promptly echoed.
Tugging a tumble of change from her pocket, the girl tipped the tuppence on the music box’s tabletop, while the man handed her a card hidden in folds of his blazing red breast.
It was a photo of the two of them—man and bird—this time properly in a rash of rainbow hues.
She smiled as she rode away, pushing her pedals, while the man once more began to crank the handle.