Reckless Serenade

From his spot next to the water fountain he had a nearly perfect view of the school grounds sprawled out before him. Basically a bunch of dirt and grass half-covered by the hundreds of shoes worn by the hundreds of kids attending the same hundred year old school. But after years of being forced to tramp to the grounds five days a week for hundreds of weeks and multiple years, Jonny felt forced into viewing his spot by the fountain as an tourist's observation deck and the school yard before him as a scenic view.

And yes, a tourist's, because Jonny, despite all his years here, couldn't help but feel like an outsider. He didn't really have any friends, just acquaintances. He wasn't interested in any of his classes. Sometimes Jonny wondered why he even bothered coming. He was seventeen, he could drop out at any time. Or at the very least, skip once in a while. His parents would never know. They had never cared to take interest in his life. He wasn't much more than decoration to them.

But retracing his thought process, getting back on topic, he knew why he bothered making the mile long trek to this institution of lackluster "learning". It wasn't for knowledge, it wasn't for friends, it wasn't even for acquaintances. It was for a stranger. Yes, a stranger. All Jonny had was a face and a name.

Well, there was more. A lot more. There were small things. The way he ran his long fingers through his short curls. The way his eyes shone when he laughed after one of his friends told a presumably hilarious joke. The way his eyes sparkled when he was the one telling the joke, something he clearly thought was the funniest thing in the world. His friends didn't seem to share his sense of humor though, they just gave him odd looks. But sometimes Jonny would be close enough that he could hear what the young man said, and even though it was usually something lame he found himself trying to hold back his own laughter.

And speaking of hearing, another small thing was the particular sound of the sweet man's laugh. The man clearly enjoyed life. And the sound of his laughter filled Jonny with such a sense of warmth he could feel it suffocating him from the inside out and sometimes he simply couldn't breathe all because of it.

The simplest, perhaps shallowest of these small things was the man's attire. He dressed unusually formal for a school setting, and looking at him Jonny always felt inferior and pathetic in his own clothes, usually just a t-shirt thrown on over some old jeans.

And then there were the deeper things. The aspects about this man that not even Jonny himself could ever fully explain. The captivating thing his shimmering blue eyes would do, looking both full of wisdom and courage, yet painfully innocent and helpless at the same time. Like you wanted him to teach you something about life, but then at the same time you wanted to teach him to protect himself from the horrors of it.

The way he could somehow pull off acting like an immature boy, but look so much like a man. The way his perfectly toned arms seemed to be begging for a body to wrap around, lonely and scared and seeking refuge beyond their own sculpted beauty.

And how Jonny desired that. Longed for it. Night after night, he could think of nothing but the way it would feel if those arms were wound tightly around him, refusing to let go. He could have pictured more, much more. But for some reason that was all he wanted. He just wanted to be held by this mystery man.

He had a magic about him, he was a top notch magician. If he were to do a magic show Jonny was sure he'd leave it feeling dumbfounded and mesmerized and ardently believe it to be the best one or two hours of entertainment he'd ever spent money on. All he wanted was this one man, this young, bright soul called Christopher (or Chris, but he preferred the full title).

He could never quite reach deeply enough into his mind or into his heart to find just exactly what it was that made him want this so badly. Maybe it could be traced back to some sort of complex. He never felt he could look up to his parents and he didn't have any older siblings to look up to, so maybe this obsessive admiration was a result of having no other outlet for it, and he simply wanted, no, needed, someone to look up to and admire. And maybe within those eyes and within that laugh what Jonny saw was someone who could tell him what to do.

But at the same time, perhaps it was Chris's boyish charm and innocent expression that drew Jonny closer. The aura he gave off; that he could take a hit with a smile, but somewhere deep down it would still leave a bruise. And because of this weakness, this tragic flaw in personality, Jonny felt compelled to be there for Christopher, to hold him and to protect him and to care for him if he was not well.

Perhaps it would be a fair trade-off. Christopher could warm Jonny's being with his good-natured attitude and corny humor and Jonny could, in return, cool off any pain Christopher might feel, not letting the heat get too intense, not ever letting it burn him and scar him for good. Perhaps Christopher could remind Jonny to laugh along and to live a little, and Jonny could ensure that Chris kept his head just far enough out of the clouds so he wouldn't get caught in a storm of troubles.

If Jonny really pondered this seriously, he knew it was all of these things. All of them and more. All combined with an overwhelming feeling that Christopher was just the one. The one person on the planet that could make Jonny come out of his shell and truly feel something.

Even now, Jonny felt so many things for Christopher. He felt admiration, he felt awe, and in all honestly he felt a good deal of desire and tad bit of lust. But most and possibly scariest of all, he felt something that he, even though he would never openly admit, knew was love. Love for a guy called Chris. Love for a stranger. Unexplainable, unrequited, unimaginable, yet inexplicable love.

It had to stop, he knew. He couldn't go on this way. But he knew it would never, could never, stop. It was as much a part of him as his tangible beating heart was. And he would lay in bed at night, and laugh. All this for a stranger. A stranger he had known of for just two years. But he knew that nothing would ever change. Well, no. He knew that his feelings would never regress. Depending on future events, however, they could always progress.

And this is where Jonny would stop thinking about that matter. He knew what he yearned for was impossible. Christopher would never love him, he would never even know him. They would probably never even talk. And the pain of this realization was almost unbearable. It wound a knot so tight in his stomach that standing up straight became a grueling task.

On this particular day as he stood by the old fountain, Jonny felt an impulse to do something, anything about it. He wanted to scream what he felt to the world, he wanted to spray paint it all over the dreary bricks of the school. He had to get it out. He thrust his shaking hands into his pockets, locating a crumpled piece of paper and a pen with his fingertips. He ironed out the paper as best as he could and scribbled his thoughts in quick succession on it with the pen, summarizing as best as he could.

He finished just as the bell rang signaling the students that it was time for homeroom, and as kids began to file into the school he folded it into a paper airplane and threw it, watching briefly as it caught the breeze of the blustery morning. Then he turned around and walked somberly into the building, leaving his thoughts and expressions and feelings to fall as they may.

Alone, Together

Part 1

Chris examined his locker. He glanced down at the books he carried in his arms. Then he looked back up at the locker. He wanted to make sure he had everything. Ridiculous as it was, even after nearly four complete years of high school he still had difficulty remembering to bring all the necessary items to his various classes.

His real problem was adjusting to the high school atmosphere. When he first entered high school as a wide-eyed, meek and highly nervous freshman, everybody told him that he would adjust in time. That he would get used to the change from middle to high school.

But now he was a senior, and had yet to see that happen to him. He was still just as nervous and uneasy about it as he was on his first day nearly four years before. He heaved a great sigh and slammed his locker shut, having confirmed he had the correct books. He had suddenly remembered why he felt particularly flustered today.

There was just two weeks of school weeks. Two weeks, and then he was done. He was never going back to this place ever again. And while most kids would be absolutely thrilled to finally be in this position, Chris was not.

It wasn’t that he liked school. He didn’t. It was basically a living hell most days. But what worried him was what would come after school’s end. There would be more change. A lot of it. Far more than there had been simply making the transition from middle to high school.

Chris didn’t think he could handle that. It was taking him four years to even become slightly accustomed to a much simpler change. And now this was being sprung upon him seemingly out of nowhere.

There would be a summer job. Chris had never really had a job before. Then there would be college. Which would mean moving away. And staying in a dorm. Which would mean being away from those he cared about. Suddenly he felt nauseous. This was too much to bear.

He turned around and was met with a pair of bright green eyes looking at him. And then a smile. His stomach flipped. He couldn’t deal with this right now. He tried to get the meeting over with as soon as possible.

“Hi Jonny,” he mumbled, already turning on his heel to head to his next class. But his efforts were in vain. He felt a hand on his shoulder, holding him in place.

“Where are you off to so quickly?” Jonny chuckled. “I’ve never seen you so eager to go to math.”

“Well….you know…” Chris stuttered out weakly, turning around to face Jonny. He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t tell Jonny that he was avoiding him. Then he would want to know why.

“Are we still hanging out after school today? At the usual place?”

“I don’t know. I think…I think I have some stuff to do at home. I’m sorry.”

Jonny crossed his arms and frowned. “Mmhm” he said suspiciously. “You seem to be extra busy lately. Any particular reason why?”

Chris shrugged and turned his gaze to the floor. “Not really. I…I’ve got to go. I don’t want to be late.” He turned back around and practically ran down the hall.

Jonny watched him go and his expression softened from a suspicious frown into a worried one. There was definitely something up with Chris. He only wished he knew what. But he didn’t want to invade on Chris’s privacy. He decided to allow him some time and some space to work it out on his own.

He smiled in a loving way. As soon as Chris needed him, if he did, Jonny knew he would be there to listen to Chris with open ears, mind, and heart. So for now he simply watched him go, as much as it hurt to do so.

------

Chris lay in his bed and just stared at the wall. It couldn’t have been past 8:30. But Chris had never had much of a social life. And with all of this avoiding Jonny, it was a rarity for him to even step foot from the house to go anywhere besides school. So he really had nothing else to do.

His eyes kept wandering to the photos that were stuck onto the walls here and there throughout his room. They were of him and Jonny. Most of them weren’t serious. Just the two of them making crazy faces into the camera. But every photo represented a different moment that they had shared together.

Chris surprised himself a little by feeling his throat tighten and tears build up in his eyes. He wasn’t ready to leave this behind him. He didn’t want to sacrifice more precious moments. And to Chris, every moment with Jonny was a precious one.

He turned to stare at his favorite photo. It was one of the few more serious shots, and it was just of Jonny. Chris had caught him unaware one summer evening while they were at the fair. The light had been just right and it had allowed Chris to capture a great image of Jonny’s profile.

His chest began to ache. He folded himself up in the bed and gripping his legs, he no longer fought back the tears. He cried until there were none left. He couldn’t make this change.

------

Jonny sat alone at the usual table. Their table. He sipped distractedly from his glass of iced tea. But eventually he just pushed it away. Going there just wasn’t the same without Chris. He checked his watch, then checked the door.

He sighed in frustration at his own ridiculousness. Chris had said he wasn't going to be there tonight. So why was he still wishing so badly that he'd change his mind?

Jonny knew deep down in his heart what the answer was. And it went beyond simply desiring to enjoy a social evening between two best friends.

He considered his options. He could let Chris work this out alone like he told himself he would. Or he could help him through whatever it was he was going through, no matter if Chris asked for it or not.

He thought about rude it would be to go knocking on Chris's door. It was dark now. How happy would his parents be about that? And then he thought about Chris. That terrible sadness that had been a main feature in his eyes for days now. How alone must he be feeling right now, at home in his room as he surely was?

Jonny stood up and rushed out the door and down the sidewalk until turning the corner onto Chris's street. He had made his decision.



Part 2

Chris stared out his window. Now it was truly nighttime. It was dark and the street was quiet. Chris felt his mind was a bit quieter too. Not as many thoughts ran through his head. The crying had done him some good after all.

He realized the rational thing to do was not avoid Jonny, but talk to him. He needed to tell Jonny how he felt. Maybe it wouldn't change the way things had to be, but it might give him some relief from this emotional torment he was under.

He reached for the phone. For a moment he just held it in his hands, his fingers hovering over the buttons. Finally he got the courage to press one of them. It made a low beeping sound that seemed to encourage Chris to keep going.

He pressed another, and another. Finally he had the entire number typed into the phone, and was about to press send when there was a knock at the door. Then the sound of footsteps. The door creaked open. Chris heard his mother's voice.
And then there was the sound of footsteps, but louder this time. They were coming towards him. His door opened.

"Can I come in?"

Chris dropped the phone in shock. "Sure," he replied weakly.

Jonny entered the room and flashed a small smile. Chris knew it must've been to make him feel better. But Jonny simply didn't know that every little thing like that made Chris feel worse. It wasn't his fault of course, but that didn't help Chris at all.

"What's up?" Chris asked meekly. He avoided Jonny's eyes like the plague. They were too green and too full of life. Every time Chris saw them it just reminded him that he would have to leave them.

"I wanted to talk to you about something."

"And that couldn't wait until Monday?" Chris asked. He didn't realize how nasty that sounded until after the words were already out of his mouth.

Jonny frowned. "You never want to talk to me at school any more. And besides, this is important."

"I'm sorry," Chris said.

"It's okay, I know you didn't really mean it in a bad way."

"No, I mean I'm sorry for the way I've been treating you lately. I shouldn't have been ignoring you."

"It's okay Chris. I understand. You've obviously been dealing with a lot lately. And that's why-" He stopped mid-sentence and scratched his head nervously. "Um..can I sit down?" he asked timidly, gesturing towards the bed where Chris sat.

Chris forced a smile. "Sure."

Jonny sat beside Chris and rested clasped hands on his lap. "The reason I came over here unannounced like this, which I am sorry for by the way, was because I know you've been feeling really upset about something lately. I don't know what it is, but I thought that if I told you something, it might help."

He took a deep breath. "Look at me Chris. I want you to know something."

Chris obeyed. He didn't really want to, but something in Jonny's tone told him that this was important.

"You've been my best friend for a long time. It's reached a point where I can't enjoy myself or anything else without you right there with me. And one day I recognized something-that point was the point when I stopped viewing you as a friend. I love you Chris. I have for some time now. I just didn't know it."

Chris stared at him, eyes wide and mouth agape. He wanted to speak, but couldn't find the words just yet.

"I'm sorry if that's weird or awkward for you. I don't want things to be like that between us. I just thought that if I told you how I feel, it might help...if you could remember that no matter what you are going through, I am always here for you and will always love you."

Chris decided that he either had to speak now, or pass out from the shock of it all. "I...wow," he managed weakly. But then he caught Jonny's gaze again. "I love you too," he said.

Now it was Jonny's turn to look shocked. But that didn't last long, for it was quickly replaced by a look of joy. "I never thought you'd actually feel the same way. This is...my feelings right now can't really be described with words."

Chris laughed nervously. "I know what you mean."

Without thinking, he rested his hand on Jonny's. Realizing what he had done, he nervously looked to Jonny for some sign of encouragement. With relief he noted that Jonny didn't seem to mind this gesture at all, but was smiling.

"I'll tell you why I've been feeling badly lately. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I was actually about to though, just as you walked in here. The truth of it is, I have been thinking about how one this school year ends we will be going to different colleges and...I was terrified that we would drift apart. I've loved you for a long time Jonny, and I've been spoiled. I've gotten to spend almost every minute with who I love. I didn't want that to ever change."

"Oh Chris," Jonny said softly, "I'm so sorry. I should have guessed. I've been thinking about that too. But there's something else I've been thinking about too, something that came to my head just about a minute ago."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. I've been thinking...we both love each other, right?"

"Yes," Chris replied, with a large smile.

"Well, love knows no distance. And now...knowing that we both feel the same...I don't see any reason why we won't be able to retain our relationship no matter where we go. As a matter of fact, I think, if it's alright with you, I'd like to advance it."

"You mean like...date or something?"

"Well, we love each other. So yeah, I think that'd be the thing to do."

"Jonny....I would love that." He looked at him for a long time. "I feel closer to you already," he whispered.

"Come here," Jonny whispered back. He pulled Chris into a hug. Chris hugged him right back. Jonny could feel his sleeve becoming wet with Chris's tears. He knew Chris's sleeve must be wet too. And neither of them minded, for these were tears not of sadness, but of joy.

Joy because they had both finally gained the courage to admit their feelings. Joy because they found that they shared the same feelings. And joy because they knew through t their mutual love that they could still be alone and yet still be together.

Arrow and Bow

Chapter 1

If you had a choice between seeing in black and white or seeing in color which would you choose? I am certain that nearly anyone asked this would instantly reply “color.”

Unless, of course, they are some kind of furry critter who has never seen in color before and didn’t know the difference. But I think it is fair to say that once you have seen in color, you would never want to revert to black and white ever again.

But what if your vision wasn’t as good as it could be, without you even realizing it? What if you were one of those color blind folks who mix up their reds and their greens, but no one ever let you know?

What if you were missing something all along that you didn’t even know was there, or could be? And what if after many years, there came along a kindhearted soul who finally gave you the heads up? Look man, that’s not green, it’s red. Something along those lines.

Wouldn’t you be grateful to them? Certainly you would feel as though you owed them some large favor for enlightening you. Personally, if I was shown something better than what I already had, I would feel compelled to respond by showing them something better in return.

By now you might think I am a pompous man. But I speak only from my own experience. Because I was shown something better by someone. I once thought I had it all figured out. I thought I knew how life was, should, and could be. But one man proved to change all of that for me. And all it took was an autumn walk.

Funny how these things begin. You never expect when you wake up in the morning that a simple action will end up changing your life forever. Or maybe some of you do.

But I, for one, know that when I open my eyes in the morning, the first thing that comes to mind is not “I have a feeling that by performing a few typical human acts in succession, my entire existence will be altered today.” My first thoughts usually pertain somehow to sleep, specifically getting more of it.

But I think that is the beauty of it. Getting your eyes opened shouldn’t be something you can predict. In fact, I think an essential component in figurative eye opening is the surprise. There’s nothing like a good surprise. Surely our children can vouch for that.

Yes, an expected gift is nothing compared to an unexpected one. Just ask the screeches of a young child upon discovering a brightly packaged present hidden in the back of a closet after being sent on a scavenger hunt by his parents.

Yes, I am comparing my eye-opening experience to a gift. A most precious gift. In fact, I value it more than any of my possessions. Not that I have many of those to begin with. But I’ll get to talking about that later on.

I discovered my gift much the way a young child would-with instant and constantly escalating excitement. Have you ever received a wrapped present and somehow known instantly that you were going to love it, even before you really knew what exactly it was?

That is what happened to me, you could say. When I was presented with the gift, I knew immediately that I was going to adore it. I just didn’t know how.

At this point I assume you are losing your patience with me. Here he goes, rambling on and on about some gift. Well tell us what it is already, damn it! Probably something along those lines is what you’ve been thinking. Or, if you’re just a bit crazy, perhaps screaming them out loud.

Let me take this opportunity to apologize for the time out of your busy schedules that has been eaten up do to my lengthy story telling style. I know this might seem like a pain at the moment, but I assure you it is necessary.

Have no fear, by the end of this little tale you will know all about the present. First though, I need to discuss just how this present happened to fall into my hands.

This story’s beginning has three major components: a telephone call, a question, and a response in the affirmative, in that order.

First there was the call. It was around nine o’clock in the morning. I had been awake for some time, but had no particular desire to get out of bed. I had no reason to. It was Sunday and I was off from work. Work was the only reason I got out of bed at all. That and Madison. Which brings me to the second component.

I groggily answered the phone to hear my sister’s boisterous voice coming through the other end of the line. I squinted in the bright sun that streamed through my window. I loved my sister (and still do, mind you) but it really was too early for her to be this animated. And she knew better than to call me before noon.

I considered bringing this point to her attention, but was stopped short when she asked me the question. Apparently her husband, Jackson, had to be taken to the hospital.

I tried asking the reason for this, but she was in such a state that it was impossible. Instead I let her go on. I didn’t mean to, but after some time I lost focus on what she was saying at all. Until I heard the name Madison.

“Huh?” I questioned stupidly.

“I said,” she replied in a huff, “can you please watch Madison for a few hours?”

“Of course,” was my instant reply, and the third component of the beginning of this story.

Madison is my sister’s daughter, and thus my niece. I adore her, and always jump on an opportunity to spend any sort of time with her.

“Thank you Jonathon, you’re a lifesaver.”

“You’re welcome,” I replied as pleasantly as I could. But I rolled my eyes as I said it. I hated it when she called me Jonathon.

“I’ll bring her over right away, if that’s alright with you.”

“Absolutely it is.” I hung up the phone and hurriedly got out of bed to make myself presentable. This was one thing that would definitely get me up on a Sunday.



Chapter 2

Twenty minutes later the doorbell rang. Or so I was told. I didn't hear it. I was blow drying my hair. But according to the screams of my sister through my cell phone, she had indeed rung the bell.

I was lucky I had brought my phone in to the bathroom with me. I am terrified to know what would have happened if I had not heard either the bell nor the phone.

I hurried out and threw open the door. My sister raised her eyebrow at me as she led Madison inside. I then remembered that I hadn't put on a shirt yet. I also hadn't had the time to clean the place up properly, like I had wanted.

There was an enormous pile of dishes in the sink, magazines scattered all over every table, and crumbs on the floor. She looked around and narrowed her eyes. This was a warning sign for all nearby to steer clear. Like I said before, I loved my sister, but she could be a real terror when she was angry.

I hastily spoke to avoid an explosion. "I'm sorry Sarah. This was a last minute thing and I didn't have time to clean up." She was clearly not satisfied with this response, but she decided to let it go, maybe considering the current situation.

She looked into my eyes. "I will be back as soon as I can." She turned to Madison and leaned down to meet her eyes as well. "Be good honey, okay?"

'I will mommy," she replied in her sweet little voice. She waved goodbye with one tiny hand and tightly gripped her favorite stuffed animal in the other. It was a gray bunny with long floppy ears. Thus it was named Floppy.

"I am going to go play with Floppy Uncle Jonny. You can play too, but you have to be nice. Miss Kim says that we always have to play nice."

Miss Kim was Madison's preschool teacher. I had only met her a couple of times before, when picking Madison up from school if Sarah couldn't. For some reason I got strange vibes form her, but Madison seemed to love her, so I didn't think much of it.

"No, that's okay sweetie. I have to clean this place up!" I gestured towards the giant mess that was my apartment.

"And put clothes on!" she giggled, pointed to my bare chest.

I leaned down and ruffled her hair. "Yes, that too," I said with a laugh. "Now why don't you go into the guest room and play?"

"Okay!" she replied exuberantly. I smiled as she ran out of the main room and down the hall. She was full of more life than anyone else I knew.

An hour later the place actually looked decent. You could see the bottom of the sink, and the tops of the tables, and the floor was crumb free. Then it was time to find myself a shirt.

I made my way down the hall to my bedroom, the last door. I grabbed the first shirt I could find and put it on. The clothing situation resolved, I went to check on Madison. She ran up to me, carrying the worn rabbit.

"Uncle Jonny!" she yelled excitedly, running up to me. "I fixed Floppy! I made him all better!"

I noticed then that Floppy's arms and legs had some sort of bandages covering them. I feigned a look of shock. "I didn't know Floppy was sick!"

"Oh yes," she replied in a serious voice. "He was sick like daddy is sick. But I healed him, so he is all better now. So daddy is going to be healed, too." Her face was so sweet and innocent.

I smiled, filled with love. "Of course he will be, sweetie. In no time at all."

"How long is no time at all?"

I chuckled. Then I thought for a moment. I had to get her mind off of her father. There was no reason for her to have to worry, she was too young for that.

"I have an idea. Why don't we go to the park today, huh? Would you like that? It's a warm and sunny day."

"How would you know?" she questioned boldly. "You never leave the apartment."

"What?" I said, trying to contain my laughter. "Who told you that?"

"Mommy did."

I rolled my eyes. "I should've known. But does this mean you don't want to go to the park?"

Her eyes widened. "No, no! I wanna go!" she cried.

"Then come on. We should go right away. The more fun you have, the sooner your mom will be back to pick you up. In fact, she might even be at the door waiting by the time we return!"

"Yay!" she yelled, jumping up and down. "But can I bring Floppy?"

"Of course. Now come on." I grabbed the hand that wasn't holding the stuffed animal and together we went down the stairs and out the door to the city streets below. I

had been right. Well, partially right anyways. It was a very sunny day. The sky was a deep, clear blue. But it was chilly. There was a crisp breeze that blew strongly every now and then.

I remembered that it was no longer summer anymore. It was so easy to forget these things, without any trees around to demonstrate the time of year with the state of their leaves.

We made our way precariously through the endless city crowds. Madison skipped beside me, to keep up with my long strides. She sung a little nonsensical tune to herself and sung the rabbit back and forth. Her long, fair blonde hair seemed to dance behind her, and it took flight whenever the next gust of wind hit.

Everyone in my family liked to say that she looked like me, but I begged to differ. She was the spitting image of Sarah. I had blonde hair as well, but it was curly and not nearly so fine.

But maybe it was the eyes that made people think this. She had the same bright green eyes that I did, the only feature that I had ever really cherished in myself. But they were far more expressive than mine were.

Her personality was all Sarah. She was audacious and outgoing. She was also very intelligent. Her eyes clearly showed that. It was not easy to pull one over on her. This worried me, at least then. There was a limit to how long I could continue to keep her in the dark about Jackson, if things came to that.

I hoped with all my strength that whatever was wrong was easily curable. I was thinking so hard that I didn't notice we had reached the park until I felt a pull on my left arm. Madison had stopped walking.

"Aren't we here?" she asked. She said it with confidence that she was right. This made me smile.

"Yes, it is. I don't know what I was thinking."

"You are so silly Uncle Jonny. I am going to go play now."

"Alright," I said. "Be careful!" I called out. I hoped my words of warning had not been lost on her, as she was already running towards the playground.

I shook my head. I had no idea where this energy came from. I admired it. I sat down on a nearby bench to keep an eye on her. It was difficult though, because the park was crowded. I ended up just hoping that nothing would happen to her.

A few minutes passed and I finally spotted her.. She was running again. I realized she was running towards me. Her eyes were wide. Once she got closer, I recognized with relief that they looked more interested than fearful.

"Uncle Jonny, come quick!" She screeched excitedly. She grabbed my hand and began trying to drag me off the bench.

I laughed heartily. "Hold on a minute Maddie, what is it?"

"I had to hide from some kids, 'cuz we were playin' hide and seek. And I tried to hide in that tunnel." She pointed to it. "But there was a strange man inside of it!"

Her eyes widened further and she looked as though it was the most astounding thing ever. I frowned, and thoughts of creeps immediately came to mind. I quickly got up and followed her to the tunnel.



Chapter 3

She ran right up to it. I was close behind. I gently took her by the arm.

"Wait here," I instructed. I stepped in front of her protectively. Cautiously, I peered inside the piece of equipment. It was dark, but I saw the silhouette of a man inside.

He was sitting with his knees close to his chest, and he was hugging them. My first thoughts were that he looked like more like a scared child than a grown man.

"Hey," I said quietly. He didn't respond, or even do anything that showed he recognized my presence. For a brief moment I wondered if he was even alive.

I hesitantly reached out and lightly touched his shoulder. It felt warm enough to belong to a living person. Gently I shook the man. Finally he moved. Actually, moved is an understatement. He jumped.

He jumped and hit his head. Then he scooted backwards in a panic. He must have been asleep and thus disoriented, because he fell right out of the tunnel and onto the ground.

I walked around to the other side. Finally I got a good look at him. The first thing noticed were his eyes. They were large and blue. Although the largeness of them surely had something to do with the terrified look his face expressed.

His face was dirty. His clothes looked dirty too. I couldn't tell if he was too thin or if his clothing was simply too baggy. His shoes looked like they had been on the feet of a person who had run about a thousand marathons. I realized with a pang of sympathy that he was probably homeless.

It was naive of me, but after this once over of him I just could not picture him as being any kind of pervert. Of course, in time, I realized that my then crazy assumption had been correct-he was no pervert. But let's stick with the past for now.

There was one thing that kept me from fully believing he was a homeless man. He was strangely clean shaven. There was not a trace of stubble on his chin, and his hair was cut to a short length. Not at all what you would expect in a person who could not even afford a place to live.

I kindly reached my hand out to him, to pull him off the ground. He didn't take it though. He just started at it like it was a foreign object. I tried a different
approach.

"It's alright, I do not want to harm you. I just want to help you," I spoke soothingly.

He just shook his head at me. "I don't need any assistance, no indeed. I am fine, yes, perfectly fine, I am."

He spoke so quickly that I could barely make out the words. I saw his fingers tap ferociously on the ground every time he uttered a syllable. With a good deal of pity, I realized he was probably crazy. But yet, all the while his eyes stared at me straight on, and I detected a good deal of intelligence in them.

"Mr. you are crazy!" Madison exclaimed, suddenly popping up by my side. I quickly tried to shush her. But there was never any way to reign in her childlike brashness.

To my great surprise, the man just laughed, in a quiet yet friendly manner. "I am not crazy," he remarked with a twinkle in his eye. His speech was much slower and more relaxed as he spoke to her, and his eyes showed no trace of fear.

"Oh but you are!" she argued. "You were living in this tunnel. A tunnel is not a place for a man to live, silly! It is a place for children to play, like me!" She smiled a smug little kid's smile to let this man know that she was right.

The man just winked. "I do not live in this tunnel. I do not live anywhere. I just am."
"You're crazy!" she exclaimed. She laughed, clearly thrilled by the strangeness of this man.

"What's your name?" he asked.

He spoke as if he were speaking to someone with a prominent position in society. That was something I liked immediately. Most adults treated Madison like they would treat any other child; like she was an insignificant being with no real thoughts or opinions.

"My name is Madison," she stated proudly. "But sometimes it is Maddie."

"Ahh, a lovely name. You could be the first woman president, with a name like that."

His eyes sparkled and he smiled genuinely. Madison was positively glowing after hearing this. She was too stunned to even speak, which was quite a rarity.

The man looked towards the sky. "You should go and play, Maddie. Don't waste your time with me, the sun will be setting soon.

"Okay," she replied happily. She looked to me for approval. I nodded, and off she ran. As soon as she left, I saw the man return to his former state of anxiety. He looked up at me with true fear. I gave him a small smile.

"You seem to have a real way with kids," I noted.

"Yes, yes I do, I do," he stuttered.

"Listen," I told him. "I am her uncle. I appreciate the way you treated her. Not many adults would have treated a child with that much respect. At the word adults he looked forlornly up to the sky.

"Most adults are horrid," he stated sadly.

"That is true," I admitted. "But I can assure you, I am not one of them. There is no need to be afraid."

"I didn't mean to give you that impression. Adults have always made me nervous."

"That's alright," I said with a friendly laugh. "They make me nervous sometimes too."

The man finally allowed himself a smile in my direction. He stood and began to crawl back into the tunnel.

"Hey," I said softly. "Why don't you come stay with me for tonight? I am sure you would love a nice bed and a shower."

"No, no," he said, shaking his head viciously. "No home is my home."

I had no idea what he could mean. But I didn't have the time for him right then, as awful as that sounds. It was getting late, and I thought Sarah would surely be back to pick Madison up by now.

So I just shrugged in reply, letting him go back to his odd position inside the playground equipment. I called Madison over and we made our way back to the apartment.

However, Sarah was not there when we arrived. But the answering machine on my phone was blinking. I hurried to check it. The message was less than encouraging, and did nothing to ease my worries. If anything, it increased them.



Chapter 4

I sat down in my only kitchen chair and rubbed my face. It was just like my sister to leave me without so much information, yet at the same time manage to worry me further.

All the message had said was that Jackson needed to get some more tests, because the doctors weren't sure about something or other, and something was off, and could I please watch Madison for the night? She promised to be back in the morning to pick her up for preschool.

Not in the mood to talk, I texted her on her cell phone, letting her know that of course I would watch Madison for the night. I snapped my phone shut and sighed. Now I had a real problem on my hands. I had no idea what I was going to tell Madison. She was so clever, and already I knew she suspected something was amiss. I considered a few options.

I could refrain from telling her anything at all. Immediately after thinking this I rolled my eyes at myself. There was no way in hell that would ever work on Madison. She was far too inquisitive. I thought some more.

I could tell her that things were fine, and that Sarah only needed to stay while Jackson got a few more tests. She might buy that, I thought.

Or I could tell her the truth. I thought of her sweet face. No, that was definitely out. I would not hurt her that way. I decided on option two.

I approached her quietly. She was watching tv. "Maddie?"

"What Uncle Jonny?" She sounded so happy and so innocent. It killed me to lie to her almost as much as it would to tell her the truth.

"Your mom had to stay at the hospital a little bit longer. They are doing some more tests on your dad. She will pick you up in the morning for school."

"Okay," she responded quietly. She hugged her stuffed animal close. "Uncle Jonny, is daddy really going to be okay?"

"Yes, of course," I replied instantly. I gave her a large, confident smile. I wished I had felt as confident as I had acted. But something the tone in Sarah's voice on the phone had really worried me. I could only hope that what I had told Madison was the truth.

She smiled back at me. It seems she was still young enough to be fooled by my words. But just to make sure she didn't dwell on things, I came up with a distraction. "I think it's time for some dinner, huh? What do you think?"

"That depends," she responded craftily. "Will it be pizza?"

I laughed. "I think that can be arranged."

Twenty minutes later we kneeled around my living room table, surrounding a box of pizza. A slice was in each of our hands, and we enjoyed the numbing affects of television as we ate.

Well, Madison looked sincerely entertained by the program. I was the one who was being numbed. I tried my hardest no to think, not to worry. It was difficult at first, but the smiles and giggles of my only niece worked their magic on me as well and I had soon all but forgotten my problems for the time being.

Once we were filled with pizza, Madison decided she wanted to play a game. I searched my cluttered closet and managed to pull out some old board games. We must have played all of them at least six times until Madison finally fell asleep, sprawled on the floor.

I gently picked her up and carried her to the spare bedroom. I covered her with blankets and rubbed her head. I desperately hoped that there would be nothing but good news tomorrow, for her sake.

I then retired to my own bedroom. It was still early for me, but there was nothing to do. And sleep seemed like an ideal option for forgetting my worries. I laid on my bed and sooner than I thought I would, I drifted into slumber.

But it didn't last long. A little past midnight the ring of the telephone woke me. I stumbled blindly out of bed to answer it before it woke up Madison as well.

It was the call I had been anxiously awaiting and yet dreading at the same time. Sarah was finally calling to inform me of the situation. I sighed with relief as I heard her voice, but it was short lived. She didn't even say hello.

"Jonny," she said with a rush, "it's bad news."

She needn't have told me, it was obvious. She never hurried through her conversations, and she never called me Jonny. Clearly something was wrong. I remember feeling my stomach sink. "What is it?" I asked shakily.

It was a reflex response; I didn't actually want to know. I wanted to hang up the phone and pretend like this brief conversation had never happened. But wants and needs are entirely different things altogether, and I knew that needed to know what was going on.

"The doctors...they're still running tests, but they say he might have cancer." She choked on the last word and I almost dropped the phone. I resisted the urge to stupidly repeat the awful word.

For a while both ends of the line were silent. Not even my talkative sister had anything else to say. But what was there to say, really? That everything was going to be fine? That wasn't true, and we both knew it. Not if Jackson did indeed have cancer. We didn't have the will to try and fool each other.

"What kind of cancer?" I finally asked. I am sure that my tone must have resembled a man being strangled to Sarah; it certainly did to me.

"Brain," she whispered. "I have to go now. The doctors will be here to explain the results soon." Her tone was emotionless and distant. "Tomorrow morning I will be there to pick up Maddie." Then she hung up the phone.

I hung up too and stared at nothing in particular. I walked slowly back to my room, not allowing myself to think anything about what might happen. I just replayed one thing in my mind over and over.

I couldn't tell Madison anything. I could tell that Sarah didn't want her to know, and frankly I didn't want her to know either. Not until the doctors had a positive cancer diagnosis. And if they did? I asked myself. If they did, I thought, we would have to decide the best way to shatter a little girl's happiness.



Chapter 5

As promised, Sarah was at my door bright and early to take Madison to preschool. Normally I wouldn’t have even bothered to get up, but I had been wide awake for the remainder of the night and there was really no point trying to get a few minutes of sleep when I would just have to get up for work soon afterwards.

Madison was perky that morning, even for her. She must have been excited and even a bit relieved to see her mother’s face. I often wondered just how much she picked up on.

I felt like she knew that something must be up once she learned that she would be staying overnight at my place. She skipped to the door when she heard the bell and was all smiles as Sarah pulled her in close for a hug.

As she did so, she glanced up at me. Our eyes locked for only a moment, but in that brief length of time I knew. Jackson had received his diagnosis. And it was definitely positive. I quickly averted my eyes from her gaze.

I couldn’t look at Madison either, for fear I would begin to tear up. This innocent, happy, sweet little girl was going to grow up without a father. And someone had to tell her about it.

“Thank you for watching her for me Jonathon.” I could tell she was being careful with her tone, trying to sound as normal as possible for Madison’s sake.

“Of course. You know I am always willing.”

“Yes, yes. Now I have to be off, the traffic this morning is terrible.”

I nodded. “Goodbye Maddie,” I said with as big of a smile as I could manage.

She waved in that endearing manner of hers. “Bye Uncle Jonny!” she exclaimed.

I waved back and closed the door in a hurry. I didn’t want her to see me cry. It was little things like that wave that made this new situation almost unbearable. But somehow I managed to hold it together and not a single tear fell from my eyes. I inhaled deeply and began to prepare for work.

Work. The word hung all around me like a bad omen. There was nothing I despised more than the mundane duties I performed at my endlessly dreary job. Some people fairly enjoy what they do for a living. But I must point out that the only reason I trudge the five blocks to the office I work in and sit in the uncomfortable chair within my cubicle is so that I can pay the bills and have something to eat once in a while.

Just as I had feared, work was even worse than usual that day. I couldn’t focus on anything. I didn’t stand out in any way at that office; I was no outstanding performer or a bright spark of life in an otherwise dreary building, or anything like that. But on that day people noticed me.

Even those people, who I have never spoken more than a few words to at any given time, recognized that I was not acting in my usually manner. My boss actually came up to me and suggested I take the rest of the day off. I didn’t have any objections to that.

I eagerly ended the day early and decided that I would take a walk. The sun was intense that afternoon but I didn’t care. I probably wandered something like five miles around the city.

Then I looked up from the sidewalk which I had been intensely staring at for some time and found that I had arrived at the park. I considered walking the short distance that spanned between the park and my apartment. But I was overheated and incredibly tired. I decided to take a short rest on one of the benches.

Not long after I sat down I noticed a strange figure on the far side of the park. The figure was crouched under a tree, and it appeared to be holding something. I decided to investigate. To this day I don’t know why I did. Maybe I was curious. Maybe I just wanted to see if the trees could provide me with any real protection from the unnatural autumn heat. Whatever the reason, I approached the figure.

When I got closer the figure gave off a vague familiarity. And from a few feet away I recognized it, and it was a him. It was the homeless man from the day before. Except now he was cradling some kind of instrument in his arms.

I cautiously walked closer, not wanting to startle him as I approached. He didn’t even glance up as I stood in front of him, blocking the sun’s rays from shining down on him and thus causing a shadow to be cast across his face.

It was a guitar. It looked old and was quite beaten up; a string or two was even missing from it. But it was a guitar all the same. And from the expression on the man’s face it was clear to me that the instrument was his one love in the world.

He wasn’t playing it. He was just holding it, occasionally stroking it with his fingertips. Never before had I seen anyone show so much affection for something, and even now I cannot think of any instance where I have.

“That is a fine looking guitar you have there,” I said with quiet admiration. He looked up at me and was startled; it seemed he didn’t recognize me right then. But I gave him a small smile and his eyes showed that he remembered me. I was surprised though; I hadn’t expected him to. I was pleased that he did.

“What brings you to these parts?” he asked in a quirky tone. It sounded like he was trying to imitate some kind of American accent, perhaps from one of those old Western movies. He was doing a horrible job of it. But he was funny, and I felt my weak smile transform into a grin.

“I was just taking a walk.”

“Walks are good for the soul,” he remarked. “Is that your profession?”

“What?”

“Is it your job to walk around? Like, do you get paid for it?”

“Erm….no, it’s not my job to walk.”

“Don’t most people work on Mondays?”

“Yes.”

“Then why aren’t you?”

Coming from most people I would have taken all those questions as being rude and nosy. But this man struck me as someone who was as innocently curious as Madison was. I decided to humor him.

“My boss let me leave early.”

He must have seen the relief on my features. “You don’t like your job do you?”

I was amazed by his powers of perception. “No, not really,” I admitted.

“This is my job,” he stated, gesturing towards the beat up guitar.

“You play guitar for a living?”

“Yes, yes, oh yes,” he answered enthusiastically.

“Where do you play?”

He ignored that question and instead decided to give me some advice. “You should get a job you like. It will help distract you next time something bad happens in your life.”

My eyes widened. I wondered how he could possibly tell that I had a terrible thing to deal with. But I didn’t ask that. Truthfully I was afraid of what the answer might be.

Instead, I asked “Will you play me something on the guitar?”

“No,” he replied firmly.

“Why not?”

He was adamant. “No, no, no! Nope, not a chance,” he replied with fervor. “You are not ready yet.”

“I’m not?”

“Come back when you are ready.”

But he didn’t wait for me to leave. He jumped up, cradled the guitar to his chest, and ran off. That is when I knew I had stumbled upon quite a unique personality. It was then that I was struck with the odd feeling that I had been given a gift. And I wondered what could be inside.



Chapter 6

The sun's light was already beginning to fade as I climbed the stairs to my apartment. Sarah was leaning on the door when I arrived. She saw me and instantly her posture became alert.

"Jonny!" she exclaimed with relief. "I have been waiting here for over an hour! Where have you been?"

I shrugged and tried to hide my irritation. "I took a little walk."

"A little walk?" she questioned skeptically.

I threw up my hands with frustration. "Alright fine, maybe it was a long walk! What does it matter?"

"It matters because I have been waiting to talk to you! Mom is watching Madison so I don't have much time."

I unlocked the door and gestured for her to follow me inside. "Okay, so talk," I said between clenched teeth. I was hot, tired, and hungry. I had a lot on my mind already. I wasn't in the mood for this.

"It's about Madison, you know." She gave me a good, long stare. She knew she had me now.

I sighed and my faced relaxed involuntarily. "What is it?" I asked softly.

"I need...your help," she admitted. "There is no way Jackson would ever have the strength to tell Madison that he is dying. And I can't do it alone."

I was struck by her tone. It was quiet and pleading. I had never heard her sound so vulnerable. I had no idea where to begin with Madison, but of course I agreed anyways.

"Of course I will help."

The relief was evident on Sarah's features. She released a breath I didn't know she had been holding and sat down on my couch. I sat beside her and folded my hands in my lap.

"We will need to do this gently," I advised.

"I don't know what to do! She is so young, and death is so....horrible. She is only four years old!"

"We will have to explain it in the gentlest way possible."

"How do you propose we do that Jonathon? How do you expect to explain death to a four year old girl?"

She glared at me, but I paid no mind to it. Stress had always made Sarah rather irate. I was actually surprised she hadn't hit me yet.

"Listen to me Sarah. She might only be four, but she understand a great deal for her age. She is quite intelligent, and she is perceptive too. I could tell that she knew something was very wrong yesterday. Perhaps this won't come as big of a surprise to her as you think it might. You know, she asked me yesterday if he was going to be alright. I told her yes of course, but I could see in her eyes that she knew the reality."

"She asked that? Oh this is impossible!" she cried, collapsing back against the couch with a sigh of defeat.

"You're over thinking this. We just need to sit down with her, and in the most loving way we can, explain to her that Jackson is very sick and will likely not get better. If she screams, we hug her, if she cries we hold her tight. If she asks any questions we answer them as best as we can. But we must always tell her the truth."

"What if...what if she asks whether or not he will die?"

"Then we must tell her 'yes'."

"But we don't know that for certain!" she exclaimed, suddenly in a panic.

I grabbed her wrist and looked into her eyes. "It's brain cancer Sarah. You and I both know that Jackson is going to die from this. Maybe he will live longer than expected, but at some point this is going to kill him."

"I know," she whispered. "I know Jonny."

She began to cry. She tried to stop herself, but clearly she did not have enough strength left to keep up her defenses. I hugged her and let her cry on me for a long time. It was good for her to get this out now. It would make telling Madison easier, if only in a small way.

Finally she was done and she pulled away from me. Immediately she stood to leave. But first she turned to me again. "Thank you Jonathon. You were the only one I could come to with this."

"You're welcome."

Her eyes darted nervously around the room. She clasped then unclasped her hands. She rocked back and forth on her heels. Then she spoke again. "You are the best brother anyone could have. I am so thankful that to have me, really. Even when I don't act like it, I-"

I cut her off. "Don't mention it. You are a great sister. I am happy to help you whenever I can. Now go home and get some sleep. I am sure you'll want to visit Jackson in the morning."

She nodded and left. Then it was my turn to collapse. I sprawled out on the couch and stared at the ceiling. Never in my life had anything been so hard for me.

I almost laughed out loud, recalling how I used to think that my job was so difficult to handle. This was a thousand times worse. I would have gladly worked every day, ten hours a day, for the rest of my life if it meant avoiding this.

This evening had been emotionally draining on me. I was exhausted. Sarah had cried for more than an hour. But I hadn't shed a single tear. As a matter of fact, I hadn't expressed much emotion at all.

I hadn't intended to repress all my feelings, but I guess it was my natural reaction. My sister had needed me, and I had to remain strong for her sake.

But now it was just me alone in my apartment. Me against the world. A debilitating wave of exhaustion swept through me. Holding back emotions left me feeling far more worn down than expressing them would have.

I considered finally allowing myself to cry. But I held back. I might as well take advantage of my fatigue and call it a day. I closed my still dry eyes and allowed the exhaustion to have its way with me.

That night I dreamed. I dreamed I was a tree. Hanging from my branches were Sarah and Madison. They stayed there for what I think was a long while, but it's hard to tell the passage of time while dreaming. However long it was, eventually they climbed down and thanked me.

A strong wind began to blow then. I tried to call out for help. The gusts were beginning to uproot me form the ground. But neither Sarah nor Madison were anywhere to be seen.

I could still hear thank yous being whispered. But the words came from all directions and I saw no one. The wind continued to blow, stronger all the time. I continued to call out for help, but to no avail.

I felt myself tip over. I heard the crash as I toppled to the ground. That was when I awoke, with a start. So much for a good night's sleep, I thought.



Chapter 7

That morning, I called up my boss. I told him that due to a family matter, I would not be at work that day. I hung up the phone before he got the chance to ask for specifics.

I wasn’t required to give the details of my absence, and I certainly wasn’t going to make casual conversation out of it. It was bad enough that Madison had to know.

I checked my cell phone. I had a text, from Sarah. She wanted to bring Madison over after preschool. Although she didn’t mention it, the implication was that it would be then that we would talk to her.

I simply replied back “okay”. I wished I felt okay. But my stomach was in knots and I thought I might have developed a nervous twitch. I needed to shake off those feelings. I had to be calm for Madison’s sake, and Sarah’s too.

Being trapped inside my little apartment was not helping my nerves. I decided to go for another walk. But this time I did intend to go to the park. For some reason, that homeless man was stuck in my mind. There was something about him that made my fears go away. I was hoping to see him there.

The weather was quite a bit more autumn-like that day, so I donned my jacket before heading out. It’s a good thing I did too, because I didn’t notice the rain clouds until it was too late. Unfortunately the jacket did not include a hood, but I did have a hat, and the jacket kept most of the soaking rain from reaching my skin.

By the time I reached the park the rain had settled into a light drizzle. I figured the man would be hiding out in the tunnel because of the weather. But he was sitting under a tree just like the last time. And he still had that guitar. I walked right up to him without feeling intrusive or nervous like I had before.

“Aren’t those strings going to rust if you keep that guitar out in the rain? And won’t the wood begin to warp?” My own boldness surprised me. Something about this man just compelled me to speak.

He twitched and shifted his guitar in his arms. He looked up at me with those large eyes of his.

“You’re ready now,” he said. As was custom, he ignored my questions.

“Ready for what?” I asked.

He smiled in a secretive way. “You are ready to hear me play.”

I think I could feel my face lighting up.

“But first I must ask a question of my own. What changed?”

“What do you mean?” I wondered.

“Yesterday your eyes were quiet and sad. Today they are sadder still, but there is a certain boldness within them.”

I had no idea how he could see anything of that sort in my eyes. But upon consideration of his words I realized that they rung true.

“Well, there is something important that I must do today. I have to relay some very bad news to someone I love dearly. It hurts me that I have to do it, but she deserves to know.”

The man nodded as if he could somehow understand my vague description. I don’t know, maybe really he could. He was (and is) quite special.

“Well then here is a tune for you and your niece.”

I let another shocked expression creep onto my face. Funny, he never liked to answer the questions I did ask, but he did answer the question I didn’t ask out loud.

“It’s obvious. You clearly don’t have a wife or a girlfriend or a boyfriend, because you spend far too much time wandering around instead of being with them. And when you brought Maddie to the park I could tell how much you cared about her.”

“You are something else,” I told him. He shrugged and began to play. If I didn’t know I had happened upon a very special gift yet, I certainly knew it then. His playing was like nothing I had ever heard before.

Don’t judge me here, but it was so amazing because it wasn’t amazing. It was just a bunch of odd sounding noises thrown together. It didn’t even resemble a tune. It consisted of idle plucks of the strings in random order. And it was beautiful. The complete and utter chaos of it was just beautiful.

In a world where things were expected to be good and decent and lovely all of the time, it was great to hear something that was out of tune. Hearing the man play made me feel like all of my problems were just a part of life. I don’t know how or why, but I felt a burden being lifted off of me then, at least partially.

I sat down in front of him as be played paying no mind to the wet and muddy ground. He seemed to relax once I was at eye level with him. His playing became more relaxed and his eyes seemed to dance along with the music.

I tried to tap the tune on my leg, but it was impossible. There was no tune, there was no melody. There was only the sweet sound of pandemonium.

I laid down, allowing the mud to coat my back. I didn’t care. I think I saw the man smile at this odd action of mine. Soon after that, he was finished.

He abruptly removed his fingers from the strings. I sat up. We looked at each other for a long time without saying a word. Then I thanked him.

He smiled back. “My name is Christopher Anthony John Martin. I do hope I will be able to play for you again sometime.”

He grabbed hold of my hand suddenly and shook it. It was so odd I had to laugh. I half expected him to hand me a professional business card.

“I hope so too,” I told him. Then I stood and left; so much more prepared for the evening then than I had been before.



Chapter 8

Lying in the mud had made me feel rather disgusting, so I showered as soon as I got home. I put on fresh clothes. I didn’t know what else to do. There wasn’t even anything to clean. The whole place was still spotless from that rushed Sunday morning cleanup. I let the events of the day play out in my head.

Like an iPod on repeat, I kept hearing the sound of the man’s guitar in my head over and over. Christopher’s guitar. Chris’s guitar. Yes, I liked that.

I wondered if he would mind me calling him by that nickname. In my experience, nicknames were something to be loved. I always wanted to be called Jonny, or even Jon. And I knew that Madison loved to be called Maddie.

I decided I would ask him next time. Not that I really expected to get an answer. Honestly, I didn’t even expect that there would be a next time. But I wanted there to be one all the same and I didn’t quite know why just yet.

While I was in the middle of pondering this, I heard a knock at my door. I was almost positive it would be Sarah. A quick look through the peephole confirmed my beliefs.

I opened the door and was dismayed by what I saw. Sarah was standing there, and little Maddie was standing in front of her. But she was crying. Sarah’s hands were holding her protectively by the shoulders.

I looked at her, my eyes full of questions. She gave me a slight shake of the head, as if to say, not now. So I merely opened the door and gestured that they come inside.

I took Madison’s hand and led her to the couch. “Sit down and rest honey,” I commanded, albeit gently. I whispered in Sarah’s ear. “The kitchen,” I told her.

She nodded and followed me there. I sat down at the table and she sat across from me. “So what happened?” I asked.

Sarah’s face contorted into something that was a mix of terrible sadness and extreme fury. “The teacher,” she whispered. “That teacher.”

“You’re going to have to be a bit clearer than that,” I said calmly.

She sighed. Slowly she began to speak again. “That teacher….she told her. She told her Jonathon.”

“The preschool teacher, you mean?”

“Yes.”

“Told her what?”

“That damn teacher told her that Jackson was going to die!” She slapped her hands down hard on the wooden table and broke into tears.

“Shhhh,” I whispered softly. “Settle down. You don’t want to upset Maddie do you?”

“Look at her,” she cried, gesturing towards the other room. “She is already upset! Can you believe what that bitch did!? She just went right up to her and said that!”

I rested my hand on hers and tried to speak as calmly as I could. I was fighting back against my own fury. I could feel it building up inside of me. How dare that teacher think that she had the right to tell my sweet little niece such difficult information! But I reined those emotions in, for the sake of Sarah.

“How did the teacher know about this?” I asked.

“I told her….but it was only so she wouldn’t be surprised if Maddie was looking sad or depressed! I didn’t know she would….”

“It’s okay,” I interrupted. “This isn’t your fault.”

“I am getting her fired. I will make sure of it,” she growled. I didn’t even bother with a response to that. Once Sarah had it in her mind to do something, she would do it. And I thought Miss Kim deserved what was coming to her.

“Shouldn’t we go and comfort her?” My eyes moved in the direction of the other room, where Madison was curled up on the couch, looking ever so small.

“Yeah.” She even allowed herself a tiny smile. I knew she appreciated how much I cared about Madison.

I approached her first. She looked so delicate, just lying there. Her eyes were red from crying but I did not see any more tears. “How are you feeling Maddie?” I asked her kindly. I knelt down beside her and stroked her head.

“I am doing badly Uncle Jonny,” she said plainly. “Miss Kim lied to me.”

“She lied to you? What do you mean?”

“She told me that daddy was gonna….die.” She barely whispered the last word.

Sarah and I exchanged looks. This was going to be even more difficult than we had anticipated. She came over to the couch and leaned down next to me. She kissed Madison lightly on the forehead.

“Sweetie….” She paused for a moment, but did not falter. “Miss Kim was right. Your father, he is very sick. He won’t be alive for much longer. The sickness is going to kill him.”

I admired her. I didn’t know how to make myself do something so difficult and painful. She was a lot braver than me, no matter how fearless I pretended to be. And upon watching Madison’s reaction, I saw that the same qualities her mother possessed in this regard were also within her.

Throughout Sarah’s somber explanation, Madison lay there and listened quietly. Her eyes looked focused. I searched for any signs of tears. But it seemed she had decided that the time for crying was over.

She never had been a big crier, like many children are. It reinforced my belief of her high maturity level. She had the ability to understand when something was beyond her control. Kneeling there, watching her, I vowed to try and be more like that.

“I want to see daddy,” she said.

Sarah smiled, and I saw her brush away a tear. “I will take you to see him tomorrow morning.”

“But what about school?”

“You aren’t going to be going back to school for a few days.” Only I heard the angry undertones of her words.

“Oh, okay,” she replied, sounding disappointed. I was surprised that she still didn’t seem to mind Miss Kim at all. But I suppose that is how children are; overlooking the bad and people and only seeing the good.

“Mommy?” she asked quietly.

“What is it honey?”

“Can I stay with Uncle Jonny tonight? His couch smells like Daddy.”

“That’s because neither of them clean as much as they should,” she chuckled. “Of course you can stay,” she added. “As long as it is okay with Jonathon.” She looked towards me for an answer and I immediately nodded.

“Okay, then it’s settled.” She kissed Madison goodbye and on the way out she stopped to whisper in my ear. “I knew I could count on you.”

Once she left I turned to Madison and noticed that she was already asleep. She must have worn herself out from crying earlier. I grabbed an extra blanket and laid it on her gently. I whispered a goodnight in her ear. At least I was good for something.



Chapter 9

Both Madison and I were up bright and early the next morning, ready to leave as soon as Sarah arrived at the door. I had made a quick decision to join the two of them in visiting Jackson at the hospital.

I knew Sarah wanted me to be there, for moral support. And I knew that I should be there, too. It was my duty. Jackson was my brother-in-law, after all. Of course I needed to visit him at least sometimes throughout the duration of his illness.

But what bothered me was that I didn’t want to go. I felt horrible. Guilt silently flooded me. My conscious nagged at me. Why don’t you want to visit your own relative in his time of need? It was because I was a wimp, I admitted to myself.

I hadn’t inherited any of the courage that Sarah and Madison had. I was just lucky they had an ample supply. Maybe some of it would rub off on me, someday. I heard Sarah’s knock at the door. I swallowed nervously. I hoped that day would be soon.

The car ride was far too long. It gave me plenty of time to rethink my decision. The more I thought about it, the more nervous I became, the more scared I felt, and the more I longed to be home in my bed as opposed to heading to the hospital.

Yet at the same time, we arrived much too quickly. Soon my senses were filled typical hospital traits. The squeak of shoes on hard linoleum floors, the whitewashed walls, the sterilized rooms. It was awful.

I took Madison’s hand as we walked to Jackson’s room, and told myself that it was to keep her calm. In reality it helped me keep myself calm.

I had a good idea of what I would see when we entered his room. I expected him to have a sickly appearance, and obviously be lying in a hospital bed. And yet, he looked more ill than I could have forced myself to imagine.

His face was very thin and dark circles surrounded his eyes. He was wrapped up snugly among the thin hospital blankets, but what skin was visible looked pale and appeared almost translucent.

I had a hunch that Sarah had been keeping from me just how sick Jackson really had been the past few weeks or maybe even months. Though it was nauseating to admit, he looked as though he wouldn’t be around more than a month. Guilt pressed on me even harder. My conscience was a burning sensation in my head.

Maybe I would have known about this if I had visited more, it told me. I shouldn’t have taken any member of my family for granted, it nagged. And now it was too late. I had but weeks left to bond with Jackson before the cancer ate away his life.

Pathetically, even after admitting all of this to myself I stayed for only a few minutes. Just long enough to give Jackson a quick greeting, a squeeze on the arm, and a few words of encouragement. Then I hugged Sarah, kissed Madison on the cheek, and left it all behind me.

I took a cab home, not bothering to stick around outside the accursed building to wait for a ride home from Sarah. Anyways, that wouldn’t have exactly been fair to her. If I couldn’t even support her in her time of need, why should she do anything for me?

The driver took somewhat of a scenic route home, and drove by the park I had become so familiar with. Making a split-second decision, I told him to stop there. I hopped out, paid the slightly decreased fair, and immediately scanned the large stretch of land.

I laid my eyes on what I had been hoping to see-or who, to be more precise-and headed towards the spot without even really thinking about it. As soon as I saw Christopher-Chris-sitting there, eyes intent on his instrument, I felt so much better.

This time he was already plucking out sporadic notes on his guitar. I sat down, in the now drier grass to listen. But he stopped playing then and looked at me straight in the eye.

“I thought you might need some music today, so I began to play as soon as the sun came up.”

“You mean you’ve been playing all this time?” I asked, stunned.

He stood and stretched. It was only then I realized how tall he was, almost as tall as me. And I was now fairly certain it wasn’t baggy clothes making him look thin. The man was just skinny. I thought he might even be undernourished. I opened my mouth to offer to do a kindness for him and take him out for a meal. But he interrupted with a suggestion of his own.

“Come with me, please. I have something I need to show you.”

I didn’t know how to respond, so I just nodded. He smiled a bit than begun to walk off towards the road. I followed right behind him (which was no easy feat, for even though I was a little taller, he was a much faster walker than I). I wondered where he could be taking me.

I had never considered the possibility that he ever left the park, though somewhere in the back of my mind I knew he must. After all, on the first day I saw him I had noticed his cleanly shaven face. I realized that today it was quite stubbly.

We passed many buildings and I noticed that the area around us was gradually beginning to look more and more run down. When Chris finally stopped, we were in what appeared to be the center of the worst part of town.

There was a door, painted an odd but not altogether unpleasant orange color. A pathetic looking sign with faded letters hung on its front. I squinted to make out the writing.

Muse, it read, which must have been the name of the place. In his characteristic way, Chris answered my unspoken question before I had even finished processing it in my own mind.

“This is where I work,” he explained. “But more importantly, this is where I come to do what I enjoy.”

Twice he knocked on the door. A separated portion of it that I hadn’t noticed slid back, revealing a set of dark eyes. Chris spoke some foreign word, presumably a password of some sort, and the door opened. Chris excitedly grabbed my arm and pulled me inside.

“Welcome to my world,” he said with a smile.



Chapter 10

As soon as I entered the building I was met with a strong musty odor. I wondered just how long this place had been in use. It was grimy and small, but I instantly felt at home in it.

A man strode up to us with a huge grin. He wore a knit cap and a t-shirt advertising a band I had never heard of. Wire rimmed glasses were perched precariously on his thin face. He ran his hand through his already tousled brown hair.

“Chris!” he exclaimed. “Delighted to see you here, man. But you’re late. Go on and get ready, these people are waiting! Everything is ready for you in the bathroom.”

“Thanks Rick. Sorry about the late arrival. I was waiting for a friend.” He turned to me and smiled a little.

“Well I can’t believe anybody would be friends with you, what with your awful appearance! Now go and make yourself presentable!”

“Aye, aye sir!” Chris joked. He turned sharply on his heels and jauntily marched for a small door towards the back.

“And you had better shave!” the man, Rick, called out.

Chris gave a playful thumbs up then entered the room which was, presumably the bathroom that Rick had been speaking of. Laughing, Rick left me standing there to go off and take care of some sort of manager duty. I assumed that was his profession, for he bore the look of one with authority.

I looked around. I tapped my foot a little. I didn’t exactly know what to do with myself. This was all new to me. I was surrounded by lively chatter and hearty laughter.

But I didn’t fit in with any of it. I was more like a decoration here. That scenic painting that you hang on your wall.

When Chris reentered the main room I could see that he had undergone a considerable transformation. Just the shave seemed to do him worlds of good. The clean shaven look really suited him nicely. He strolled up to me, happier than I had ever seen him.

“Don’t stand around Jonny. Have a seat, right over there.” He pointed to an empty chair across the room. “I hope you’ll enjoy what I am playing. It is especially for you.”

Not knowing what to say, I simply took a seat and waited to hear what was in store for me. Chris walked to what looked to be the front of the audience and stood there for a while, without any sort of expression I could decipher.

He picked up his guitar, which I hadn’t noticed had been lying against one of the tables. Then, standing there, two feet away from the closest members of the audience, he began to play.

The type of sounds he produced were in no way unfamiliar. The melody still consisted of random notes thrown together into one big mess of a tune. And it still sounded beautiful, too. But I sensed something different about it.

Maybe it was because he had told me it was for me, but it really felt special this time. I imagined putting a ribbon on the music and taking it home with me.

All too soon it was over, and I was surprised that I was not the only one clapping. But I was pleased that I wasn’t the only one who understood what an amazing kind of sound had just spread through the room.

Chris’s eyes wandered about the audience. He didn’t smile until he looked at me. I smiled back, at least I hope I did.

Rick materialized at the front of the room and put his arm around Chris, giving him a little shake.

“Give it up for Chris, everyone!” he called out.

The clapping got louder, and a few people even cheered. Chris had little reaction to this though. He simply thanked everyone and swung his guitar around his shoulder. He gestured at me to follow him and I hurried to catch up as he strode out the door.

“That was really great,” I told him. “Thank you for taking me.”

“Well, you were ready.” He said it in a way that made it seem like a given for me to be there. I think he even shrugged.

“I am not sure what that means,” I told him, feeling suddenly bold, “but that is what I like about you. You have helped me in ways I don’t even understand.”

“That’s what I am here for.” I gave him a questioning glance. This always seemed to do the trick when I wanted him to answer a question of mine. The key was to never ask it. My ploy did not fail me.

“When I first saw you, I just had this gut feeling that I was placed at the park on that day because I was supposed to help you out. And when we met again later on, right when I was about to play my guitar, everything just clicked, and I knew it was true. You needed help, and I needed to help you. With my music or whatever it is you would call what I do.”

“Here is something I don’t think you figured out though,” I responded, feeling more confident than ever. “I am supposed to help you too.”

He narrowed his eyes at me, but it wasn’t a nasty expression. “What do you mean?”

“Chris, the way I see it is we have a tradeoff. You have given me the gift of your music because I have to endure a difficult and painful situation. You have also had to endure such a situation. Yours, however, is different than mine is. You have had to endure living without someone to care about you.”

I halted my speech for a moment, holding my breath in fear of him getting angry. But he was silent, and I heard nothing but our footsteps. So I continued on.

“And that, Chris, is my gift to you. A courtesy for a courtesy. You gave me the most beautiful music I have ever heard, so in return I am giving you my friendship. A weak trade, I know. But everyone needs a friend. Even a quirky, homeless musician.”



Chapter 11

Chris didn’t say anything. But I think I saw a smile sneak onto his face, even if for just a brief moment. It made me feel good inside. Finally I was of some use to somebody. I wanted to continue in this direction, so I asked him once again the question that Chris had shot down twice before.

“Why don’t you come stay with me?”

“Why should I do that?” Chris wondered. Answering a question with a question. I supposed that was better than an outright no.

“You would be much more comfortable there, I think. I have a spare room and at the very least it is a place to shelter you from the elements. It’s autumn after all. And if you recall, winter follows not far behind.”

“I have survived winters before.”

“But wouldn’t you rather do more than just…survive? Don’t you think it would be nice if you…thrived for once?”

“Jonny, I just can’t do that right now. It’s not the time for that. I appreciate your offer. But I am going to have to decline. It wouldn’t be right, not now. There are still things I must learn. Experiences I must share with my guitar. I am not quite ready for that yet, you understand?”

I nodded and shrugged. I didn’t understand of course, but that was nothing new. I rarely ever understood the ramblings that came out of that man’s mouth. And I was fine with that.

It felt good to hear things that sounded like nonsense to my own ears every once I a while. It was such a relief to just listen and not have to think about it.

When we reached the park I stood there for a moment, deciding what I wanted to do. The sun was setting, or at least, it must have been, since the light was growing dimmer.

I couldn’t actually see the sun. It was blocked out by some thick grey clouds. I didn’t want to leave just yet. I had quickly grown used to Chris’s presence, and I enjoyed it immensely.

“I assume you are going to be here for a little while?” Chris asked.

“Um…yeah, if it’s all right. I don’t have much else to do. And sitting at home is kind of depressing.”

But the words were hardly out of my mouth when my phone vibrated in my pocket. I considered just leaving it but I figured it was probably important. I flipped it open and read the text on the screen.

It wasn’t so bad after all. Madison wanted to stay with me again. I texted back a quick “yes”.

I guessed I wouldn’t be able to stay any longer then. Madison needed me. Surely she was depressed or sad or something, considering her current situation. I knew that she was smart enough to get the gist of what was happening. And if she felt even a little bit better staying at my place, then that was quite alright with me.

“Actually,” I said to Chris “I won’t be able to stay any longer. Sarah, my sister, she just texted me. Maddie wants to stay another night with me.”

As I looked at Chris, an idea came to my head.

“You know, if you came to stay with me,” I suggested, “you could help Maddie to feel better. She really took to you that time in the park. I am sure you would be a big help to her.”

“I’m terribly sorry Jonny, I am. But I can’t do that just yet. There are things I must do here. And besides, Maddie is stronger than you think. She doesn’t need me, not yet anyway. For now, all she needs is you. Now go and be with her.”

I smiled. “Yeah…I’ll do that.” As I walked home I couldn’t help but think that Chris’s was of speech was reminiscent of some kind of wise man or prophet. It was kind of funny, the way he was. I liked it, though.

And I had to admit that I certainly needed one. I didn’t know here I’d be these past few days if it hadn’t been for that skinny, slightly crazy man who I had been so fortunate to stumble upon in the park that day. He certainly was a gift, that was for sure.

Back at home, I straightened up the already clean rooms. I tried to watch some television but I couldn’t focus. I couldn’t even keep still. I took to pacing around. I was very nervous. I had no idea what Madison’s emotional state of mind would be when she arrived here.

But I kept repeating to myself what Chris had told me. It was true, Madison was very strong indeed. Whatever she was going through, I knew she would be able to get through it. I just hoped I would be able to help her, even in some small, insignificant way.

When a knock came at my door, I jumped just a little, and opened the door just a bit too quickly. I sighed with relief when I saw that Madison appeared fine on the outside, at least for now.

I could detect no signs of recent tears. But then again, that could have been a good or a bad thing.

“Hi Sarah,” I said quietly.

“Hello,” she responded coolly.

I wondered if she was mad at me. But she just looked upset and worn down. I couldn’t blame her. At least by taking Madison in for another night I was giving her a chance to have some peace.

Sarah and I chatted for a little, but not long. I could tell she was tired, so I let her go home. I said hello to Madison and asked her what she wanted to do. She seemed to be content with watching cartoons. That was fine with me.

We sat on the couch together until it was late. I glanced over at her and she didn’t show any signs of exhaustion. But I knew she should go to bed.

“Maddie, sweetie, it’s time for you to go to bed. It’s very late.”

“Do I have to?” she asked. She tried to use her large, pleading eyes against me.

It almost worked. But I remained strong.

“Yes, you do,” I told her. “Now go on into the spare room.”

She relented, stood, and headed towards the room. Right before she entered the doorway, she turned around.

“Uncle Jonny?”

“Yes, honey?”

“Can the spare room be my room?”

My heart swelled at her words. “Of course it can. Now waltz right on into your room and get to bed.”

“Alrighty!” she chirped, skipping and finally jumping into her bed. I chuckled. That girl really was something else.



Chapter 12

I watched some more mind numbing television until I could barely keep my eyes open any longer. Then I headed to my own room.

On my way, I stopped to check in on Madison. She had been quiet, so I figured she had been sleeping peacefully. But when I peeked in through the little crack in the door, I saw a silhouette by the bed.

Madison was kneeling next to it. She was completely still an appeared to be focusing really hard. I realized with surprise that she was praying. I pressed my ear to the door and made out some of the whispered words.

“Please let daddy be okay,” I heard. “Make him get better. I would give you all of my stuffed animals if you could make daddy better.”

My heart ached at her heartfelt words and I pushed back the tears that were forming in my eyes. I wanted nothing more than to run into that room and hug her tight.

But I wanted to respect her privacy. I had invaded it enough already. She might have been a little person, but she was still a person and she deserved the same amount of respect as anyone else.

But I wished there was something, anything I could do. She sounded so helpless. Almost as helpless as I felt. I retreated to my bed, feeling pathetic. Even the next day I continued to mope. I barely said a word to Sarah when she came to take Maddie to visit Jackson again.

I didn’t want to meet her eyes. I knew she wanted me there, that she needed me there. But I felt like nothing I did could be of any use to anyone. So instead of going to the hospital I stalked off to the park hoping for some music to soothe my soul.

But when I got there Chris was just as silent as the guitar. He was standing against the tree, and the guitar stood by his side. He just looked at me, stared at me.

It made me feel awkward. Like I didn’t belong. It was just as well, I thought. I didn’t belong anywhere. I started to leave. I felt a tug on my sleeve.

“What are you doing here?” Chris asked. His eyes were serious and his voice almost sounded cold.

“What do you mean?” I asked in reply, trying not to meet his eyes. I tilted my head down to stare at the browning grass.

He abruptly reached out and took my face in his hands, forcing me to look into his cool, blue eyes. “I said,” he repeated “what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be somewhere else?” He looked at me like my mother used to do when she could tell I was lying.

“Well…I’m no good anywhere. So I thought I’d come here.”

Chris gave me a little shove and I stumbled backwards, startled and confused. I had never seen this side of him before. “Go and be with your family. Why would you be here? There’s nothing you can do here. And there’s nothing I can give you. I thought I told you it wasn’t time yet.”

“But…I just came here for some music,” I whispered weakly. But I had the feeling I had already lost this battle. If you could even call it that. Chris was the only one with the skills to fight it, it seemed.

“Music isn’t going to do much good when your brother in law dies and you’re not there for your family. Now get out of here.”

I didn’t know what to say. There wasn’t much I could say. He had told me off. He was right on every account. I had no argument.

So I just walked away, in a daze, out of the park. I stumbled down countless streets like a drunkard. Then a spot of yellow caught my eye.

A taxi cab. Impulsively, I hailed it and gave the driver directions to the hospital. Throughout the drive my confidence in myself began to grow. Apparently, the harsh words of Chris had been just what I needed to hear.

I had no idea how he always knew what I needed even when I didn’t know myself. I had thought I needed to hear some music to escape all my feelings.

But Chris knew better than that. He forced me to face my emotions. And now I was on my way to be where I should be. It was another unexplainable, amazing thing about the strange man.

When I arrived at the hospital I practically ran down the white washed hallways until I found the right room. A sudden urgency had bubbled up inside me. It was as if I thought the world would end right then and there if I didn’t get to see Jackson within a five minute time period.

All three people in the room turned to look at me when I burst in with a determined stride and a brave expression.

It might have just been me, but I could swear that I had cut some sort of tension that had been in the room with a knife as soon as I came inside. Everyone seemed to relax. Even Jackson, though he was obviously in a great deal of pain.

It made me miserable to see him looking so sick. He looked at least twice as ill as he had looked last time I came to visit. And while it was true that it had been a few days since the last time I was there, it was still a fairly extreme change for such a short length of time.

Without anyone saying so, it was clear to me that Jackson had a few days left at most. He was just a skeleton covered by a thin layer of pasty skin. But surprisingly, despite the misery that welled up inside me, thinking about Jackson’s condition, I managed to keep my expression calm and collected.

I just kept repeating what Chris had told me. My family needed me. I was going to take care of their needs, I had to. For Chris’s sake, at least. He didn’t have a family. I couldn’t take mine for granted when he was without one at all.

It wouldn’t be right. So I took Maddie in my arms and I hugged her tight. I hugged Sarah too. Then I sat down next to Jackson and talked with him a while to take his mind off the pain.

This gave Sarah a chance to relax, as much as was possible anyways. She sat down in a chair a little ways away. Maddie climbed onto her lap and fell asleep.

I could tell by the tiny smile on Sarah’s lips that she was more than grateful for my presence. I’m sure Maddie was too. And Jackson looked overjoyed to have someone to talk to. He laughed at all of my lame jokes.

I felt wonderful. It was true, Jackson was dying and we were all thoroughly miserable about that. But it felt so good to finally feel useful again.

I couldn’t help but admit that this was all Chris’s doing. In my head, I whispered a “thank you” to him. A hundred “thank you”s, even. And when this was all over I would thank him in person. But little did I know that he was not done helping me yet.



Chapter 13

The progression of the disease was quick. I had anticipated that, but it still didn’t help the pain much. I felt weighted down with a heavy burden each and every day. I surprised myself by quitting my job. It just didn’t seem to matter anymore.

But despite the suffering I was dealing with inside, I always felt something holding up the heavy weight just enough to keep it from crushing me. And that was more than I could ever ask for. It kept me strong enough to care for Madison as she continued to stay with me and for Sarah while we visited Jackson those last few days.

Eventually I realized that the something keeping everything from crashing down were the words of Chris from my most recent trip to the park. It was as if he were always kneeling beside me, whispering the words into my ear.

Sometimes it felt more like shouting, though. But I was okay with that. I sure did need it.

And I was never more thankful for those words when I was awakened early in the morning after a few days by a phone call. I stumbled out of bed to answer.

I remember quite clearly that it was before sunrise. The only light that came through my windows was dull and grey.

I spoke a greeting into the receiver. I can’t say that it was returned to me in the same way. And it didn’t take long for me to figure out why. I listened to the whispered cries and heard the broken sobs which all combined to let me know what was going on.

I have no idea what I said in reply. Perhaps something that sounded brotherly. I do hope I said something, though. Because after I hung up the phone I couldn’t speak at all for hours. I broke down and sobbed, silently, so as not to wake Madison whose innocent little soul was asleep just down the hall.

Then I heard a light tap on the door. Even that sounded mournful. I opened it and looked at Sarah standing there. She looked back at me. Neither of us spoke. I saw her wipe her eyes. I quickly turned my head away. She brushed by me and went to the guest room to wake Madison.
I was terrified to see her face. The sweet face of such a young girl was never designed with the intention of expressing extreme sorrow and pain. It was supposed to be made to express happiness and joy. There was a creak of the floor, and I looked up and saw Sarah standing there with her arms on Madison’s shoulders protectively.

Her face, which I could barely manage to look at, did not, however express what I thought it might. It simply showed confusion. And then I became conscious of the fact although Madison was a very smart girl, she was still very young. And she probably had little or no true understanding of death yet.

I recognized that this would explain her confusion. And then I realized that this meant we were going to have to try and explain it to her. As if in sync with my own thoughts, Sarah turned her eyes towards me again. I gave her a small nod.

Then I took a deep breath, and led Madison to the couch, with Sarah close behind. I let the words of Chris ring out like the clanging of bells in my head. In a way, he was there with me. And with him I could overcome my fears.

“Maddie, honey, why don’t you sit down?” I asked her gently.

Solemnly she obeyed. I knew she could sense that what we were about to say was both very important and very sad. I swallowed back the urge to scream. It would have been a nice way to relieve all of the emotions I was feeling.

“You don’t really understand what it means to die do you?”

“No…” she responded quietly. She looked me straight in the eyes. “What does it mean for daddy to be dead?”

Sarah took over then. Well, I guess I shouldn’t say that. Because while she was doing her best to explain, I sat down next to Madison and I hugged her tightly. I knew she would need it. Sure she had the strongest spirit of any kid I knew, but death could break even the strongest of spirits.

Sarah’s explanation wasn’t long. But it was to the point. Sarah had always been like that. She didn’t beat around the bush, like I had the tendency to. I liked that. A thought randomly popped into my head that Chris was like that to. He was so direct with me. I made a silent vow to learn to be that way.

I felt Madison’s shoulders shake a little in my arms. I knew she was crying now. I thought that was good. She needed to cry. She should cry.

I wanted Sarah to cry to. But I knew she wouldn’t do that right then, when Madison needed her. I wanted to cry more than anything. But I, like Sarah, couldn’t do that just yet.

I took another deep breath and tried to focus on hugging Madison. Soon the worst would be over, I told myself. But I wasn’t sure this was true. There had never really been a death in the family before. I didn’t know what it would be like.

This made me panic inside. I suddenly lost all of my confidence. I was scared, no, terrified. I had no idea how to deal with any of this. Strangely, I suddenly wished Chris were here. I wish he hadn’t said no to my invitation. He would have known what to do. He would have said the right things. He would have played his guitar.

And then it hit me. The music, like a rush of cold air on my skin. I could suddenly hear Chris’s beautiful music in my head. He might as well have been sitting on the couch beside me playing that beat up guitar for how clearly I was hearing it. That beautiful sound of pure chaos. In times like these, chaos was the only thing that made sense.

I felt my confidence returning to me and I almost shouted out with joy. I had to bite back a grin that threatened to cross my face. It didn’t make any sense. I knew I wasn’t happy. But feeling like I could do things effectively, like I could be of some assistance to someone, gave me the greatest feeling.

I hugged Madison closer to me. She cried herself to sleep on my shoulder. Then I carefully handed her over to Sarah, who gave me a quiet thank you and a goodbye before going off to begin the funeral plans. I watched as they left. Despite the extreme sorrow I felt, there was also this feeling of calm that spread over me. I had to thank Chris right away.



Chapter 14

But as soon as I heard the sound of the door shutting something clicked inside my brain and I knew that it still wasn’t time yet. If I sought out Chris now he would shun me just like before. Because it wasn’t over yet. There was a funeral to be had, final goodbyes to be said. And Sarah and Madison would need me through all of it.

So I grabbed my jacket and decided to accompany them as Sarah made preparations. When she saw me I could see her eyes light up. I knew I was doing a good thing. Sarah never would have told me she wanted help but I can imagine it would have been a terrible weight on her if she had ended up preparing the funeral of her own husband alone.

We made several stops and had to make several decisions. Some of them were tedious. Some of the seemed pointless. All of them were painful.

I tried to imagine what it would be like if I had to make these decisions for the funeral who I loved as much as Sarah loved Jackson. For some reason, I kept replacing Jackson with Chris, which scared me a little. So instead I tried to stop thinking altogether.

I wasn’t sure if I would be able to take part in the actual decision making. But once I tried it, it became easier and soon I was just mindless spitting out answers to questions. Sarah didn’t seem to mind. I think she was surprised. She’d never heard me like that before. I didn’t blame her. I had never heard me like that before either.

Could it really be Chris who was causing all of these changes in me? Could it possibly be just his simple guitar plucks and his weird way with words that had caused my brain to do a 180 and give me the confidence that I never thought I would be capable of?

I asked myself those questions all throughout the day and well into the night as I lay in bed thinking about the funeral the next day. It seemed preposterous. Most people would just say that Jackson’s illness was what really struck a chord in me.

I wanted to think that too. But one little factor kept interfering. The fact that whenever I needed to summon up some courage I would think of something Chris said or did and I would suddenly have the audacity flowing through me. The influence he had on me was astonishing.

The morning of the funeral I was up bright and early. I dressed myself nicely. I hadn’t bothered to care about my appearance in so long. But that day it was important. Everything I did that day mattered.

If that had been the old me, I would have seen the dim rays of sunlight beginning to stream through my blinds and proceed to pull my blankets over my head. I hate to admit it, but I may have feigned some terrible illness.

Or maybe if it were not a Sunday, I would have gotten up at the usual time and gone off to work and made up some excuse about something major I had to complete that day. Anything so I would not have to face up to my true responsibilities to the ones I loved.

I had once been horribly afraid of letting someone down. But after that afternoon at the bar with Chris I knew I had nothing to fear. Every one of Chris’s notes had been wrong when he played for that crowd. But at the end they all cheered, and they all loved him.

That’s how it would be on this day, I knew. I would arrive early at the funeral home and though I might not know the right things to say or do, I would still be loved and appreciated for my efforts. I had finally learned that nobody wanted perfection from me. They just wanted something.

So I gave Madison and Sarah something. I gave them my deepest condolences. I gave them my hugs. I gave them my support. When the wake was over and the funeral procession had ended, I gave them each a hand to squeeze and a shoulder to cry into.

And best of all, I gave them my tears. I gave them the assurance that it was okay to cry. It was perfectly alright to feel things, and to let weakness show. And so they saw my tears and proceeded to cry along with me, until all of us were exhausted and had no tears left to shed.

Then we climbed into my car like zombies and I drove them, and later myself, home. When I entered my apartment I stood there staring, not really knowing what to do with myself now. I had helped and helped and helped Sarah and Madison all day and now it felt weird to have no one around to provide assistance to.

It was actually quite scary. I climbed into my bed and sat in the dark and I felt as though something was creeping up on me. I began to fear that if I wasn’t helping someone all the time my old self would return with secrecy and stealth, like a robber in the night.

I jumped out of bed. All of a sudden the blankets and pillows were a prison instead of a fortress. A trap to fall into. I did not want to become trapped in my old personality yet again.

I don’t know why I thought it would happen. I suppose I felt I had been climbing a mountain for a long time, aiming to gain some sort of confidence. Finally gaining that feeling was like being on the mountain’s peak. Instead of staying up there, I feared I would totter and fall back off, into a downward spiral until I hit rock bottom and had to start all over again.

Pacing around my apartment, I tried to think of Chris, as a last resort. It had been so easy before. But I suddenly realized that I had not thought of him since morning. And now when I tried to hear his voice or his music, I couldn’t seem to come up with anything. I even had difficulty remembering his face.

In a panic, I grabbed my jacket and headed out into the night. I had to find Chris. I had to thank him. I had to remember him. I had to see him again.



Chapter 15

There were a couple of factors I did not consider in my panicky rush out the door. One was the darkness. I couldn’t see anything ahead of me apart from a few inches. I nearly tripped and fell on my way down the steps of my building and on numerous other cracks and bumps on the sidewalk.

The second was the reason for the darkness. I looked up at the sky and noticed it was unusually black, like chalky coal. I recognized this color to be resulting from a thick, dark blanket of clouds that hung menacingly miles and miles above my head.

They threatened to dump excessive amounts of precipitation on me. And I didn’t have a suitable jacket. Just my ridiculous leather one without a hood.

But this didn’t matter. If anything, it just increased my drive. I had to find Chris before the storm. I had to tell him how grateful I was. And I didn’t want to have to do that curled up in that little tunnel of his.

After what seemed like ages and ages of fast paced walking I turned onto the final block. I could vaguely see the park in the distance, due to a few decorative lamps which stood near the sitting areas.

A few warning drops of rain splashed onto my head and shoulders. I quickened my pace until I was standing in the grassy open of the park. I did my best to scan for Chris in the dim light. But it felt eerily empty and I had a gut feeling Chris was not around.

But I didn’t want it to be true. Not when I needed him so much. There was a strange stillness in the air. Then a sudden breeze. I decided to head down to the trees and search there. But I had barely started towards them when the clouds unleashed all of their wrath on me.

There was no slow increase in severity. It was an immediate downpour. I instantly lost the small amount of vision I had. I could see nothing in front of me. I tried to walk on anyways, but I had no idea if I was even going in the right direction. I could have been traveling in circles for all I could tell.

Defeated, I stopped and just stood as the typhoon-like weather raged all around me. The rain hit me from all sides. But instead of feeling like mere water, I felt as though I was being struck with a heavy rock each time a raindrop hit me.

There was such a heavy load on me. And I didn’t know what to do. The enemy, the universe, was giving me all it had and it was winning. It was defeating me. Slowly but surely. I knew I couldn’t hold out much longer. I could sense my sanity waning.

As a last resort, I cried out. “Chris!” I called. I knew it was futile. But I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t deal with this on my own anymore. I needed that man. I needed his words or his music or even just his silent presence beside me.

I hugged myself tightly feeling the chill of the combination of the rain and wind. And though physically I was just soaked, mentally I was bruised. Bruised and battered from the weight of the world. Once again, I called out to Chris.

“CHRIS!” I shouted, louder this time. “CHRIS! WHERE ARE YOU!? I need you….” I whispered just to myself. I hugged myself tighter and felt a drop of something warmer than the rain slide down my cheek.

I knew I was being ridiculous. I was a grown man who could and should be able to handle my own problems myself. But Chris was like a sugar high. Hearing his words and music gave me a sudden, extreme rush of power and courage. But it was only short term and once it left my mind, I crashed hard.

Through my whimpering and shivering I imagined I heard a strange sound. Something like music. But yet, not. It was different than that. No rhythm or melody. It started off as a barely audible noise, but gradually grew louder until it rang in my ears like a family tune from my childhood.

My heard stuttered and stopped for a moment. I knew that sound. It was the beautiful sound of Chris’s guitar. I was sure it couldn’t be true. But somehow I just knew it was.

And suddenly the music was ringing loudly right next to my ears. And Chris was standing there. He was barely visible in the rain. But I knew it was him. Instinctively I reached out to him to prove to myself that it really was him who stood there.

It was. Despite the rain, I saw him smile and swing his guitar round his shoulder. I vaguely realized the music had stopped. But it didn’t matter. I didn’t even need it. As long as he man was physically near me I could keep myself together.

I fumbled around to find his hand. I pulled it toward me and kissed it. Then the rain just stopped, as if it knew how pointless it was to try and interfere with this magical moment we were having. Now I could see Chris’s smile stretch into a grin.

“I am sorry for not being in my usual place. I had a gig tonight. But I knew you would need me. So I had to cut it short and rush back here. Apparently I was not quite fast enough,” he mused.

I rushed forward and hugged him tightly. “It’s fine. Everything’s fine Chris.” I let go and took a step back, just looking at him. “As long as you are with me everything will be fine.”

“Well, I’m here,” Chris said awkwardly. “You know,” he admitted, “I really don’t know what to do this time. Normally there is this feeling that I should go in a certain direction. But this time, nothing.”

“That is convenient,” I replied. “Because I have this gut feeling that I know exactly what you should do.”

Chris just stared at me with those large, questioning blue eyes of his.

“Come stay with me.”

“Wha…what?”

“Come stay at my apartment with me.”

Chris didn’t say anything. I began to feel apprehensive. “What is your gut telling you to do?” I questioned.

“I still don’t know what it is feeling right now,” Chris told me. “But my heart is telling me to go with you.”

I could have cried out with joy. Instead I pulled him in for another hug, and with my arm around his shoulder we walked back through the puddles to my apartment.