Symphony in a Barn

The cows never missed a performance.

Saturday night. I pulled into Benson’s Farm off Route 128. It was about 30 miles outside of Boston, Massachusetts. I lived in Milton and it was about a 40-minute drive if traffic was good. Traffic had been good as I arrived at the farm in about 30 minutes.

I got out of my rickety, old gray mini suv and unlocked the trunk. I lifted the large, guitar-shaped bag out of the back. Its weight became apparent as I maneuvered the bag onto my right shoulder. I adjusted the thick strap and positioned the bag in the center of my back, trying not to fall backwards. I closed the trunk and opened the passenger side door. I reached in and grabbed my messenger bag and slung it over my left shoulder. I then clicked on the car alarm and trudged up the worn path toward’s the Bensons’s home.

Mrs. Benson greeted me at the door with a warm smile. She was a woman in her early 50s, with a small brown eyes and chubby cheeks. Her hair was partly covered by a Gingham scarf. Her hair was a mix of gray and dark blonde curls. She wore a yellow and blue colored apron adorned with flowers of the same colors. Mrs. Benson held a washcloth in her right hand and an oven mitt in the other. It seems as if she had been in the middle of cooking.

“Good evening, Mrs. Benson,” I said, adjusting my bags. “Are the girls ready for another concert?”

Mrs. Benson laughed. It was a deep laugh, hearty and loving. She stepped aside to allow me to enter. I walked in and placed my things in the living room. The smell of bread and meat caressed my nose. My stomach rumbled.

“You’re early today, Acuna,” said Mrs. Benson. “Eager to get started?”

I gave her a sheepish smile. “Yeah, that, plus traffic was light tonight,” I replied.

Mrs. Benson chuckled again and walked into the kitchen. She placed the washcloth on the sink and the oven mitt on the counter. There was a large bowl of salad on the table along with plates and utensils. A big pitcher of homemade lemonade swirled in ice. I eyed everything as my hunger grew.

“We’ll be having dinner as soon as a couple more people arrive,” said Mrs. Benson.

“Who’s here now?” I asked, looking around.

“Wallace, Alexis, and Lidia are with Mr. Benson at the stable,” said Mrs. Benson. “Julia and Eve should be here within the next 15 minutes.”

I nodded. I decided to go and greet the others at the stables., I also wanted to see the horses. I loved horses and the ones the Bensons had were beautiful.

The stable was behind the main house next to the barn. It was a short walk up a slight hill to the stable entrance. The smell of hay and horse dung assaulted my senses. I scrunched up my nose and entered the stable.

The horses neighed and whinnied at my appearance. Ranger, a large brown and white horse, stomped his hooves and nodded his head with excitment. He moved closer to the front of his stall, hoping for some head scratches. I happily obliged him. His tail swished, knocking flies against the stall. I laughed as I continued to scratch Ranger’s head.

“Acuna? Is that you?” a voice called. I saw shadows approaching me.

“Yes!” I replied, looking into the dark end of the stable.”Wallace?”

A tall man walked towards me. It was Wallace Tennen, the lead cellist for our group. Behind him were Lidia Nelson and Alexis Rodgers, second year cellists. Mr. Benson took up the rear.

“Hey Acuna!” exclaimed Lidia, waving. “So glad to see you again!” We hugged as everyone else gathered around.

Hi, girl!” said Alexis. “You actually made it on time for once!”

I laughed. “Yeah, you can’t do this concert without your star!”

Alexis gave me the side-eye. “Star?! You’re number one when it comes to being late!” She laughed.

I shook my head. Alexis was right. I was always late getting to the farm. But how could I tell her it was due to working two jobs just to afford the tuition at the Conservatory? I didn’t come from a rich family like Alexis and Lidia and I wasn’t an uber-talented cellist like Wallace, who had received a full ride at school. I was a first year cellist with marginal skills who had gotten lucky. The Conservatory had given me a partial scholarship which included a work study. To make ends meet, I took on a waitressing job at a nearby Cheesecake Factory restaurant. At least I could get free meals, minimum wage, and tips.

Mr. Benson ambled up next to me to stroke Ranger’s back. Mr. Benson was in his mid- 50’s, about average height with broad shoulders. He looked like he had worked the land all his life. His hands were full of callouses and scars. Ranger nuzzled the side of Mr. Benson’s head, almost knocking off his Red Sox cap. The Bensons’s son was a sophmore at the University of Connecticut and played for the school’s baseball team. His dream (and theirs) was for him to be drafted by the Red Sox.

“Good to see you, Acuna dear,” said Mr. Benson, adjusting his cap. “I’m sure Mrs. Benson has dinner ready. So let’s all go and eat and then get this concerted started. The girls are waiting!”

The girls Mr. Benson was referring to were his five cows who lived in a barn a few yards away from the stable. Next to the house and the stable, it was the smallest building on the farm. The Bensons had raised the cows from calfs and did some low scale dairy production. They sold buttermilk, cheese, and yogurt at their farmstand in town along with the produce they harvested from the fields. The Benson did well enough to pay off the mortgage on the farm and send their two oldest children to college. Their third child was still in high school.

As we walked back towards the house, a car pulled into the driveway. The sun was just beginning to set. The sky was a mix of blue and red. I loved late summer evenings. Out from the car came Eve and Julia. Julia’s red hiar glowed in the twilight as did the big smile on her face. Eve wore a silver gown that was in sharp contrast to her pale skin, but went well with her bright blue eyes. The women waited for us on the front porch.

“Hey all!” said Julia. “Sorry we’re late. Traffic was crazy!” Eve nodded in agreement.

“Just glad you got here safely, girls,” replied Mr. Benson. “Let’s all go in and have some dinner.”

As we entered the dining room, we saw that Mrs. Benson had laid out quite a spread. In addition to the salad and the lemonade, there was meatloaf and beef stew along with freshly baked bread. Two trays of butter sat on either side of the food along with the glasses and dinnerware. Mrs. Benson was adjusting the floral centerpiece when we walked in.

“Perfect timing!” she said, wiping her hands on her apron. “Sit on down and make yourselves comfortable. I’m just going to call Carter and we can get started.”

Carter Benson was the Bensons’s youngest child. He was a junior in high school. He was a quiet kid who wore glasses and was always glued to his cell phone. When he came downstairs, staring at his phone, he almost bumped into his mother.

“Carter!” Mrs. Benson exclaimed.”Please put that phone away. Our guests are here.”

Carter rolled his eyes and sighed, tucking his phone into the pocket of his hoodie. He nodded at all of us in greeting and took a seat next to Wallace. His mother sat down at one end of the table and Mr. Benson sat at the other end. Mr. Benson stood up to lead the dinner prayer. Everyone bowed their heads.

“Lord, I’ll keep this brief because we’re hungry,” Mr. Benson began. A few chuckles cut through the silence. “Thank you for giving us the ability to provide for ourselves and our guests. Bless everyone here at this table and away from home. Keep all of our loved ones healthy and safe. Amen.”

Everyone said “Amen” and the dinner began. I took one of everything. My plate was a buffet of meat and greens. Everyone talked while they ate, updating the Bensons on their lives. I chimed in a few times, but mostly concentrated on my food.

After the dishes had been cleared away, we prepared for the performance. The Conservatory had made arrangements with various communities to bring the symphony to rural areas. The Bensons had signed up becuase they were both lovers of music and believed that the music would help their cows produce better milk. So, twice a month we came out to perform for them and their bovines.

I had changed out of my work clothes and into a knee-length spaghetti-strapped sparkly peach-colored dress. I wore some flat sandals since we would need to walk to the barn. I left my messenger bag in the living room and strapped on my cello bag. I followed everyone out the back door to the barn. The Bensons took the lead with Carter reluctantly following behind them, and then the rest of us.

As we entered the barn, I once again had to brace my nose for the smell. I couldn’t decide which smelled worse horse dung or cow pies? But surprisingly, the barn smelled remarkably clean. There was fresh hay on the ground and the barn had been swepted. A raised platform covered in hay would be our stage. We sat down on hay bales, preparing our instruments.

Mr. Benson released the cows who ambled towards us. The five were Belle, Maisie, Kiki, Netta, and Alma. Kiki led the way towards us. She gave a low moo and the others mooed in response. In front of the stage was a huge pile of hay. The cows stopped in front of it and Kiki sat down to eat. The others started grazing with her.

“Ok, everyone. Let’s play that piece we rehearsed earlier this week,” said Wallace. We all nodded and turn to our sheet music. The piece was by Shubert and had a relaxing melody. The Bensons had told us that the cows enjoyed music with just a little bit of pep in it.

The next 90 minutes were a blur. Our cellos moved as one. We played Shubert then Mozart, and ended with Chopin. The cows grazed through most of the pieces, occassionally lifting their heads to stare at us. A few even swayed their heads in rythym with the music.

When we finished, the Bensons clapped, while the cows let out long moos. Even Carter enjoyed the concert, stating that he had shared the video with his Tik Tok following. The cows returned to grazing or sat down in the hay to chew their cud.

I changed back into my work clothes. It was about 9 p.m. The night sky was alight with stars. Fireflies flitted about the fields. Their lights blinking on and off in secret communication.

The Bensons gave us to-go plates. I was happy for it. Sunday was my day off from work and I could catch up on my laundry. I could rest and ready myself for work. Classes would begin in late August.

As I packed up my car, I noticed an envelope inside of my to-go bag. I opened the bag and the

Dear Acuna,

We know you’re just starting out in your college career. You’ve been great coming to play for us every month. We know it’s hard for you to balance everything going on in your life. So, we’ve been blessed this past year and wanted to share our blessing with you.

Here is a check for one thousand dollars. I hope it helps you with any of your school needs. Thank you for playing for us and the girls!

Sincerely,

The Bensons

I could have done a backflip! I held the check in my hand as if it were precious gold. It was precious. A precious gift from some kind people. The money would be a big help. I needed a better car. Maybe I could get one a lot sooner now.

As I drove home, the moon glowed, illuminating the landscape. Soon, the Boston skyline came into view. It had been a great night. My future looking so much brighter.