The Guitar Player is a spooky story for kids about a man who plays the guitar in a small town called Paramaribo. It is based on an old folk tale.
There are lots of places in the world, all different, some strange, but there’s one thing every country has – people and ghosts.
This is a story about a man who played a guitar in a city called Paramaribo in Surinam which is in Dutch Guiana which is in South America, which is in the southern hemisphere, which is on this world, which has many strange things in it.
There was a man who played the guitar in Paramaribo. He played it so well that people would pay money just to hear him play.
He took special care of his guitar because it was probably the best guitar in the whole country and he was probably the best guitar player in the whole country.
One day, the richest man in town came to see him and asked him to play at his party. The guitar player agreed.
On the night of the party, the huge house was filled with people. The guitar player was there.
“My friends,” the rich man announced, “the best guitar player in the whole world will play for us!”
He played better than he had ever played before. It was very late when the party ended and the guitar player walked home. It was a very dark night.
There was a sound from the bushes behind him. He turned and saw a man he had never seen before.
“That’s a very beautiful guitar,” said the man. “Would you let me play it?”
“Of course,” said the guitar player and he gave the man his guitar.
As he watched the stranger plucking the strings, the guitar player was amazed. The stranger played better than anyone he had ever seen before.
“That’s amazing,” said the guitar player. “I’ve never heard better playing in all my life.”
“Of course,” said the stranger. “I was a guitar player before I died.”
The guitar player ran.
The stranger ran after him crying, “You forgot your guitar!”
“Keep it!” shouted the guitar player.
The stranger kept running after him.
Eventually, the guitar player reached his own house. He ran inside, locked the door, turned on all the lights and pulled down all the shades. He began to wonder if he had really seen what he thought he had seen. Was there really a stranger who had played his guitar? Of course not, he thought to himself. It was only a dream. But when he looked for his guitar, it wasn’t there.
“I must have left it at the party,” he said to himself as he lay down to sleep.
The next morning, he woke up and opened his front door. There on his doorstep was the guitar.
“Here’s your guitar,” a voice said.
The man never played his guitar again.