My new name proved to be more fitting than I thought it would. Not only was I a "digital" man (according to the Solid Foam members), but my progress in my classes showed me that I was a technological wizard in my own right. I continued to amaze my teachers, friends, and even myself by the way I could easily complete assignments.

"Gee, Digit," Lindbergh commented one day after classes had been going on for four weeks, "at this rate, you'll be working for NASA for sure!"

"You really think so?" I asked him while I was studying for a test that was coming up the next day.

"Sure, at the rate you're going," my friend encouraged me. "I hope you do well on that test tomorrow."

"Thank you, Lindbergh," I said, giving the kiwi a friendly smile. "I'll do my best."

"And that's the best you can do," the plumber completed. "Why, you can even do more than your best if you try hard enough."

With a nod, I went back to studying for the test.

The next day, I caught up with Lindbergh at lunch after the testing was over to have a conversation with him.

"Lindbergh, do you remember when we met Solid Foam?" I asked him.

"You mean Beard, Clifford, Flash and Francine?" my kiwi friend replied.

"Yes, that's it."

"Sure I do." Lindbergh paused to take a bite out of his sandwich. "Why do you bring that time up?" he questioned after he swallowed.

"Well…" I didn't know whether or not he'd believe me about what I was going to say, but he was my friend and I trusted him. "I've been thinking…"

"About what?"

"Back to the first time we met the band," I continued, "I couldn't help but notice that they were missing something."

The plumber stared at me, a puzzled look on his face. "What do you mean, Digit?"

"I don't know," I confessed. "It's like they needed an extra member to join them for their careers to really take off."

"Really?" Lindbergh spoke up in a semi-confused, semi-knowing voice.

I nodded in response. "In fact, Lindbergh…" I took a moment to prepare for what I was going to say next. "Last night, I had a dream that I joined the band."

My friend's eyes widened in mid-bite. "You did?" he asked in awe.

"Yes," I answered him. "In fact, I think it might even be a sign."

"How?" the kiwi quizzically responded.

"You know how you said the other day that I needed involvement with a group of people?" I told him. "I think this might be my chance to show them that I can belong in a group."

"That's really neat and all, Digit," Lindbergh commented. "Actually, when I said that, I was meaning that you should join a club or something. Besides, I didn't know whether or not you played and instrument."

"I--" I stopped mid-sentence, realizing an important obstacle that seemed to prevent me from joining Solid Foam.

I could hardly play an instrument.

That afternoon, after my classes were over, Lindbergh and I drove into town until we found a music store. I was determined to find an instrument that I could know how to play and that would be of use to the band.

"What sort of instrument did you have in mind, Digit?" my friend asked me once we started to look around the shop.

"I'm not so sure," I told him, "but I'll probably know it when I see it." We then went our separate ways to search for an instrument.

I first made my way over to the brass instrument section. There were trumpets, tubas, and other brass instruments galore, but none of them felt right for me. Besides, whoever heard of a trumpet player in a rock band?

I stayed clear of the stringed instruments. Beard and Clifford were already covering the lead guitar and the bass, so they probably didn't need any more of those type of musicians.

I also discouraged myself from venturing to the percussion section. The only percussion instruments I could think of were the drums, and Francine was already the drummer of the band.

"May I help you?" the owner of the shop asked me.

"Why yes," I answered him. "You see, I'm looking for an instrument."

"Well then, you've come to the right place," he said to me. "Welcome to Radice's Music Shop! I'm the owner, Mark Radice."

He seemed like a friendly fellow that knew what he was talking about. I was sure that he could help me. "Thank you for the welcome, Mr. Radice."

"Please," he said, "call me Mark. Now, what seems to be your problem?"

"Well, Mark," I told him, "I want to join a band, but I'm not quite sure which instrument I should play."

"We just need to narrow it down by what type of band you'll be joining," Mark explained. "Jazz, swing, rhythm and blues…"

"A rock band, actually," I told him. "I'm planning on joining a group called Solid Foam."

"Solid Foam, you say?" the owner of the store repeated, his eyebrows lifting.

"Well yes," I answered, surprised that he had heard of them. "Do you know them?"

"Know them?" The man chuckled. "They're some of my best customers. Why, just last week, I sold Flash some reeds for his sax. They also told me about their new friend. Robotic man, pretty nice." He looked me over. "You're Digit, right?"

They even told him about me. "Why, yes I am."

"I thought so," Mark told me. "Come here, I think I know a good instrument for you." He led me to an area with all kinds of pianos.

While I looked around, I became confused as to why the store owner brought me over to the piano section. Even as a child, I wasn't exactly gifted with the ways of the keys. The few piano lessons that I had in sixth grade proved it.

Mark brought out two keyboards and set them up for me to play. "Try playing these," he said to me.

I stood between the set of instruments, staring at them. I knew I couldn't play them, especially after the accident. "Sir, I don't know if I--"

"You're a technological wizard, right?" he asked me. "That's what I've heard about you. Just try to play them this one time and see if it works for you."

Taking a deep breath, I placed my hands over the keys of one of the keyboards. I was trying to convince myself to play them. Come on, Digit, you can do this, I thought to myself. Just think of it as… typing on a control panel.

"Let's hope this works," I mumbled to myself before I closed my eyes and started to play the instrument.

I couldn't believe what happened next. There I was, playing the keyboards to the tune of a famous song by Elton John. Suddenly, it seemed as if all the band joined in: Beard on guitar, Clifford on bass, Francine on drums, and Flash singing the lead vocals. We were all playing in front of an audience of fans who screamed wildly as our saxophonist sang.

I was playing my heart out on the keyboards throughout the whole number. My efforts were rewarded when the crowd reacted to the ending of the song with thunderous applause. Right then I knew that this was my ticket into joining the band.

"Wow, that's great, Digit!"

The voice of my friend made me open my eyes and come back to reality. I saw Mark and Lindbergh, applauding for me.

"That was a really neat song," the kiwi commented. "'Crocodile Rock', right?"

I nodded in response. "Yes."

"You're a very good musician, Digit," Mark encouraged me. "The band will definitely accept you as a new member, I'm sure of it."

After we paid for one of the keyboards, the two of us (Lindbergh and I) drove over to the apartment complex where Beard and Clifford lived. We lugged the instrument upstairs and set it up once we were inside.

My audition for them went well and I was immediately placed into the band as the keyboard player. Everyone was excited about me joining, especially Lindbergh. He became our manager of sorts, picking out locations in nearby cities to play at and what time and date the performances were.

I'll never forget one of the first gigs that the band had with me as their newest member. It was a Saturday night, and the club was packed. All of us were playing our hearts out (or, in Flash's case, singing our hearts out) to a particular song called "Crocodile Rock." The performance was received with a great amount of applause.

That applause seemed to only encourage me more to stay with the band and to be a musician. After that day, all of our performances seemed like wonders to me.

The best part about it all was this: I finally found a group that I belonged in. A group that's so strong, we still keep in touch to this very day. And to think it all started with a single trip of a wire…