Story of the Drum Part II: The Brothers

At the time when the sisters were dormant waiting to be awakened the brothers were born.

A master drummer had been commissioned to make two drums. Jim, a fellow musician, recognizing the talents of the master & needing special drums for a celebration, requested two large drums.

Although the master drummer had drummed his entire life, he had never made a drum. It was a daunting task which he undertook as a farewell ceremony. He was to leave Canada and pursue his profession in Spain. Making the drums would be his last act and would help pay for his move. He proceeded with a strong sense of purpose.

The process was long, difficult and demanded great determination. One month of hard labour, using the most primitive of tools, gave birth to two almost identical drums. They were smaller than the sisters and very rough. Cut from the same barrel and from the same hide, they looked powerful with a dark wood body and a light tan skin. The crudeness of their exterior betrayed the delicate beauty of their sound. The master was pleased.

The master's dilemma was simply that it was time to depart. He gave the drums to me for safe keeping. Jim would be in Saskatoon next month to choose one drum for the festival in Upper New York State. The other I was to keep. The master expected to return and welcomed the thought of having a drum waiting in his homeland.

I put the drums together like one family - two brothers & two sisters. Weeks passed and Jim never showed. Three months later I received strange news. Due to some tragic event the festival had been cancelled and I was to handle the drums with extreme caution. I was instructed to bury both drums. Under no circumstance was I to keep the drums inside the temple and I must wear gloves when touching and moving them.

I couldn't bury the drums. It seemed so cruel. I decided to move them. At the back I had an old Volkswagen Camper Van. I placed both drums inside the Van hoping they would be safe from the elements. Little did I expect the next twist of fate.

That night the Van was vandalized and both drums were stolen. Just as one of the sisters was to "disappear" for a year so now the brother drums went missing. I was shocked. I wrote the Master Drummer explaining the fate of his drums. He was silent - which is often the way of masters.

Six months later, a friend who knew of the missing drums found one of them in a pawn shop. He alerted me and I was able to retrieve it. It looked as if it had hardly been touched and I was overjoyed to send it on to the Master. This brother lives in Barcelona. To this day the other brother drum is missing.

The family of drums are each struggling to be heard. It was with great joy that "Kenya" awakened to your spirits. Never had the sisters played together. They had heard each other but never played together. I thank you, drama camp drummers, for giving them the opportunity. They are grieving but they are now on a journey towards new life and new song touching the traditional ancient past. Thank you for your care and listening. May our paths cross along the heartbeat of the dreamworld.

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