Márta's Song
by Dennis M. Falk
4 August 2011
Issued under a Creative Commons license (any version) with the attributes BY-NC-SA.

I was just coming around to Union Square for my lunch break at one of the many cafés, not only because it was an unusually nice day in San Francisco, but because my Lexus was parked in the garage underneath the square. Just as I came up to the plaza, I noticed music. This wasn't unusual- Street performers were common around the City, and particularly the Square. What was unusual, was that it was a furry that I saw, playing her guitar. Furries were not common, particularly with the anti-furry bias, though many of these creatures were coming to San Francisco because of the City's fame for tolerance. Mice, wolves, foxes, tigers, bunnies- They all saw freedom on the Bay. But it was rare to see a furry busking around here, particularly a young squirrel in her early teens.

As I got near, a small, loose crowd was around, listening to her perform, and a few were tossing coins into her tip box. Wearing only white shorts, dusty-pink top and sandals was this red squirrel and her acoustic guitar, singing a song I hadn't heard in nearly 20 years- Cyndi Lauper's "Come On Home". She sang quite well, but it was her guitar playing that got me- She worked those strings like she was naturally comfortable, using her claws to pick and strum the guitar.

That gave me an idea-- I went underground to fetch my bass guitar and portable rhythm machine from my car. I returned a few minutes later, and she was still playing, this time tackling an oldie- "Classical Gas".

Once she finished, she told the crowd that she needed to take a break. At that time, I approached her.

"Hey, want some bass accompaniment?"

She turns around, startled, just after sipping some water from her water bottle.

"Are you trying to pull a fast one, mister, 'cos if you are, I'm too young for that," she said with glowering eyes.

"No, no-" I hold up my case- "I'm legit- I just thought maybe we could jam a bit, maybe get you some more money into that box of yours."

"You better be good, mister- I don't usually trust suits!" She noticed I'm a businessman.

"Hey, I'm just on my lunch break from my accounting firm down Powell, towards Market, and I like to unwind with my bass. Want to see it?"

"Sure, why not," she sighed. I understood her trepidation- Humans and furries still have animosity, and being a "suit" didn't help matters much.

I set down my case, and opened it- It was already obvious from the shape of the case that it was an unusual guitar, but one with much history and fame.

"Oh, my-- Is that what I think it is?"

She became big-eyed- Those big, black squirrel eyes shined when she saw the unusual instrument.

"I hope it's what you think it is- I payed two grand for one of these!"

What came out of the case was a left-handed bass guitar, being that I'm left-handed, just like my idol, and the very reason I bought this particular model.

"A Höfner 500/1 Vintage '62, isn't it?"

"Yep! Got a good, sweet tone to it, too."

"I always wanted a bass like that, but it's priced way out of my reach, so I'm just playing this $30 acoustic guitar I found used."

"You play very good, for someone so young."

She blushed, "Thanks. Could I hold it?" I handed it to her. "Wow, it feels so light!"

She held it right-handed, which was OK, because of its symmetrical violing-type body...and plucked a string.

*Bmmmmmmm...!*

"Wow! That does have a sweet tone!" Carefully, she handed it back to me, which I them proceeded to put the strap on.

"So, wanna jam? I still have 15 minutes left before I need to get back to the office."

"Okay!" This time, she sounded much more chipper.

I set up the rhythm box to a preset pattern I programmed in some time ago.

"I'm going to play something. I don't know if you ever heard it before. If you haven't, just jam away. If you do know it, well..."

"Just kick it, mister suit- I'm ready!"

And she was- I started the rhythm box with a pre-programmed rhythm I liked using, and started playing the bass line. She indeed recognized it--

"Oooh, you're playing my song... Literally! I was named for this song!"

Instead of singing it- Not surprising, as I didn't think a 15-year-old squirrel girl could sing in Hungarian, when it's not her native language. Instead, she played the vocal part on her guitar, note-fopr-note perfect.

"I'm a Deep Forest fan, too!", she looked at me with a smile only a squirrel could have. "I really was named for this song."

As we played, a much larger crowd was gathering, and her box of money was filling up nicely. I guess my bass-playing was good enough.

"Not bad for a suit!", she said. I always enjoyed Deep Forest's bass lines, and it felt good.

We finished up, with lunch hour over. "Aww, you haveta go back to work? You're good!"

"Sorry, but even I have to earn my paycheck, but I had fun, so thanks, umm..."

"Márta. Márta Sebestyén Doherty. Like I said, my mother named me after the song, and the singer."

"Well, then- Thank you Márta, for letting me jam with you."

I packed up my Höfner and the rhythm box, but instead of heading back underground to the garage, I just hurried back down Powell to my office. "See you later."

Since then, I've come back to Union Square for my lunch breaks, and saw other buskers- bunnies, otters, even humans and other squirrels- but sadly, I never saw her again. I hope Márta is OK.

----
Due apologies to Deep Forest and Márta Sebestyén for the inspiration and the title. :)