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Doc bonded with the child and he stayed with him on the bench, not so much to play but to sit and listen with his new friend.
"Doctor," he asked as he looked over his shoulder to him, "what else can you do and where did you learn how to play this? Perhaps you can teach me?"
He snickered and answered, "Son, I can play many things, things you or anyone in the entire galaxy has never heard. Now listen while I play and explain."
He began playing another song, a soft old piece. "This is perfect for dinnertime and dim lights."
As the piece began, the boy asked him, "What is this called?" "The Tennessee Waltz," he answered. "Now just breath and listen."
The boy smiled as Doc played as he closed his eyes, smiled and gently bobbed his head to the rhythm. By song's end, his head had fallen onto Doc's bicep and he had fallen asleep. Once finished, he picked the child up and carried him to a sleeping quarters before returning to speak with Mr. Walker.
"Apologies, Sir, but it seems music was the best medicine for that lad," he smiled, "You wanted to chat? I have some time." The two men retired to the corner over coffee.