As I mentioned before, my entire family was musical, including my parents, Aunt Ruth and Uncle David. After reading a bedtime story, my parents took turns singing to me. Certain songs stuck with me into adulthood, songs I could never do without, songs that tons of people would consider outdated and old-fashioned.

But I didn't care. Every night, before going to bed, I listened to the same song. Sometimes I'd stay in my room, sometimes in bed, other times I'd go for a walk around the block. After ten at night, the neighborhood was quiet, and I'd enjoy the dark night sky, except when it was below twenty degrees out. During those nights, I'd stay in my room and gaze out my bedroom window, wishing I was somewhere else, maybe behind the stars.

Tonight was a particularly bright night with lots of stars in the sky. In my pajamas, I wandered outside into the crisp March night.

What a beautiful night, I thought, staring up into the sky.

The lights from the new tenant's apartment distracted me from the sky. Before Levi, that apartment had been dark for a long time. As I listened to my goodnight song, I peeked in the window, expecting to see cats on the window sill. My mind briefly wandered, wondering what happened to Cheryl and her dozens of cats. Amid stacks of vinyl records inside the cat-free apartment, Levi Blum sat on the floor.

Since when did I become such a peeping Tom?

Bored and curious, I tapped on the window to get his attention. At first he startled, frowning as he looked up at the window. Standing up, he half-smiled, pointing at his door. I walked down the five steps to his basement apartment.

He opened the door but didn't say anything. If I was him, I doubted I would have opened the door for a freak like me.

"Beautiful night, huh?" I said.

"Uh... yeah... I guess," he said, glancing up at the sky. "It's one of those nights when you could just dissolve into the sky. Nice jammies, by the way."

I was wearing my favorite flannel jammies with multi-colored donuts all over.

"Would you like to come in?" he asked.

Usually I wouldn't go in a tenant's apartment, but this wasn't just any tenant. I'd already been inside earlier when I helped him lug in his couch, followed by a dance.

"I was just going for a walk," I said, stepping into his disorganized apartment. Boxes were stacked against the wall besides two electric guitars and one acoustic. A drum kit sat crammed against the back wall. No wonder he needed a moving van.

"At ten o'clock at night in your pajamas?"

"Yeah. I do it all the time. I listen to my goodnight song a couple of times if I'm not tired."

"What's your goodnight song?"

If anyone were to look at my playlist, particularly the songs at the end of the night, they'd think I was five years old. I barely knew this guy, so I didn't feel comfortable revealing my goodnight song.

"Is it a secret?" he asked.

"It's private," I said. "Do you collect vinyl?" I asked, referring to the records on the floor.

"Sort of. Some are hand-me-downs from my grandfather."

I sat on the floor to get a better look at his collection.

"This is only half of it," he said.

"Edith Piaf," I said, picking up one of the records. "Is this an original?"

"I believe so. My parents wanted to get rid of them, but I couldn't let them do that."

"My friend, Jeanette, loves Edith Piaf. She makes me sing La vie en rose all the time." With the record, I stood up and walked over to the record player on the floor a few feet away. "But I certainly don't do her justice."

"Who's Jeanette?"

"She's this little French lady at the senior center where I work," I said. In a second, the original La vie en rose played. "There's nothing like Edith Piaf, huh?"

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-four. I'll be twenty-five on the anniversary of Kurt Cobain's death."

"And when is that?"

He obviously wasn't a Nirvana fan. I assumed all Nirvana fans knew the date of Kurt Cobain's death, which I found out wasn't the case at all.

"April 5th," I answered.

"I take it you're a Nirvana fan?"

"I like all kinds of music."

"Did you study music in school?"

"No," I said, sitting down on the couch. "I didn't go to college."

"Would you like a drink or anything?" he asked. "I don't have much. I have water, ginger ale, maybe hot chocolate. You look cold."

I was known to wander around at night without wearing a hoodie or coat. Although I was a bit chilly, I declined a drink.

"No, thank you," I said, eyeing the guitars on the back wall.

"Would you like to play something?"

Yes, I would.

But it was so late, and I didn't want to disturb the tenants.

"I can see you do," he said, retrieving the acoustic guitar. "You can play quietly."
He handed me the gorgeous guitar. I'd never held anything quite like it.

"This is nice," I said, admiring the guitar on my lap. "Is this why you lived in your sister's basement? You spent too much money on guitars?"

"Sort of, not to mention college tuition," he said as I picked the strings, playing nothing in particular. "Sing something. Sing a goodnight song."

I had to think about it. Levi seemed harmless, not the type who would laugh at me. At least I hoped he wouldn't laugh at me.

"When I was little, my mother used to sing me a song every night. My dad sang, too, but her voice was more soothing. She'd always put me to sleep. I still listen to it every night... sixteen years later. It's sad, isn't it?"

"Whatever helps you sleep at night. What's the song?"

My cheeks burned as I stared at the floor, hearing my mother's voice sing to me as she knelt beside my bed. I was such a loser and more like an eight-year-old instead of a twenty-four-year-old man.

"Promise me you won't laugh," I said. "I'll die if you laugh."

"I promise I won't laugh."

"It's When You Wish upon a Star."

"Oh, yeah. I know that song. It's from Pinocchio, right?"

So far, he didn't laugh.

"Yeah. Walt Disney," I said.

"Can you play it on the guitar?"

"Yes."

Everyone told me I had an ear for music and could play every song on my playlist, whether it was on the guitar or piano. I was a much better guitarist.

"Play it," he urged me. "I could use a lullaby. I haven't been sleeping well lately."

"I don't think it's a lullaby."

"Close enough. You listen to it before you go to sleep. Sing it. I won't laugh. You have my undivided attention."

"Oh, please." I rolled my eyes. "I don't want undivided attention."

In reality, I relished in undivided attention, but not one-on-one attention like this in a guy's apartment. Levi got up and turned off Edith Piaf and sat back down beside me.

With a little more urging, I began to sing quietly so as not to wake the other tenants, picking the strings. As I sang, Levi leaned against the side of the couch, his eyes focused on me. No one had ever looked at me like that. What was that look? I couldn't put my finger on it. He had just met me so it couldn't be love. I was nothing special.

"It's cheesy, isn't it?" I said after finishing the song, resting the guitar against the couch.

"A little, but there's nothing wrong with that. You could come here and sing me a goodnight song every night."

I wasn't so sure about that.

"I better go," I said uneasily, standing up. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"You don't have to go," he said as I headed to the door. "We can finish listening to Edith Piaf. Maybe a goodnight dance?"

"You want to dance?" I said, re-approaching him. "You're the first guy I've ever danced with. Actually, you're the first person under fifty I've ever danced with."

"That's funny," he said.

My heart raced and my hands sweated as La vie en rose re-started. I took one hand as he placed his other hand on my lower back. Goosebumps scattered my arms, and it wasn't because I was cold. In fact, I was strangely warm. As we danced, I feared Levi would ask me to stay the night, even though we had just met this morning.

Did we really just meet this morning? I felt like I'd known him a lot longer.

If he had asked me to stay over, I was afraid I would have said yes, which wouldn't have been like me. I'd never stayed over anyone's place before, and I'd never slept in anyone's bed but my own.

Levi scared and fascinated me at the same time. Maybe he was as weird as I was. Was he crazy, too? As the song came to an end, I had to get out of there before he asked me for another dance. I probably would have said yes and one thing would have led to another. Levi squeezed my hand, reluctant to let it go.

"I... I really have to go," I said, looking away. If I looked into his eyes, I had a feeling I would have stayed.

"Stop by any time," he said. "You know, I think I'm going to like it here."

"Goodnight, Levi," I said and left, welcoming the cool night air on my skin. I was so sweaty, I'd have to change my pajamas when I got back to the house.

Starving, I decided to grab a banana in the kitchen before going to bed. At the kitchen table, I found Uncle David eating a bowl of Frosted Flakes.

"You're wandering the neighborhood in the middle of the night again?" Uncle David said.

"I couldn't sleep, so I went for a walk," I said. "Don't worry. Nothing's going to happen to me."

"In those pajamas, you look like you escaped from an insane asylum," he said. "One of these nights the cops are going to pick you up."

"You and Ruthie worry too much," I said, heading to my bedroom with a banana. "Goodnight."

Back in my room, I devoured my banana, pacing, thoughts of Levi running wild in my head. Since I was so wired, I wasn't sure how I was going to get to sleep. I stripped naked and curled up in bed under the covers, leaving my pajamas in a heap on the floor. After many failed attempts at clearing my mind with deep breathing techniques, I uncurled my body. There was only one way for me to get to sleep and that was to relieve my sexual frustration, or deprivation, with my hand. I flung the covers off my feverish body and entertained myself for several minutes. Once I finished, I drifted off into a peaceful slumber.

Edith Piaf
La vie en rose

https://youtu.be/kFzViYkZAz4