The ivory keys are cold. Neglected. Ma doesn't play much anymore either.
I move my fingers over the keys, gliding through a few scales. I let my mind wander and play the first thing that comes to mind. My fingers move in a familiar pattern and I begin playing a classical piece. Mozart. I learned several piano concertos when I was growing up and taking lessons. Ma insisted. She's good; piano is definitely her instrument.
One song flows into the next, pouring from my memory. It feels good to play. I feel affirmed as my fingers remember the keys, the intervals, and the sounds of the piano. There's acceptance in it. The house is quiet and calm, and the music fills the room. It fills the empty space like a spirit, another being. And suddenly I don't feel so alone.
Alone. I think that's what bothers me most about losing Bright Side. With her I was never alone. Even when she lived hundreds of miles away, I was never alone. I could feel her. She filled me. Like the music is filling the room right now.
The song I'm playing now was one of her favorites. Debussy. She used to always say Debussy was sexy. I used to laugh at her, but she was right. She'd ask me to play this song over and over again. She loved it.
So, I'm playing it for her now. "I hope you're listening, Bright Side," I say out loud. I know she's around. I know that sounds weird, but sometimes I just know she's nearby. It's like a fleeting glimpse of comfort ... and then I blink and it's gone.
I miss her so much.
As I reach the final decrescendo, I see something move out of the corner of my eye. I swivel on the bench and see that Impatient is standing on the last stair, watching me.
"Hey," I say, a bit startled. "How long have you been peeping on me?"
She shrugs and a small smile appears. I love that smile, probably because I so rarely get to see it. "A while." In those two words, soft and simple, is the fleeting comfort I mentioned early. I'm not alone.
I nod. "You like Debussy?"
She nods. "If that's who that was, yes. It was beautiful. I didn't know you played."
"Ma made me learn when I was a kid. Speaking of Ma, shouldn't you be at work?"
She shakes her head, as if to clear away the moment. "Yeah. Audrey needed a file she left on her desk here. I came back to get it, and I also made some egg salad. I came down to see if you want a sandwich. There's plenty." She's always trying to feed me.
"Sure. I'll be up in a minute. Thanks."
She smiles again. I've noticed more and more that doing something for someone else makes her happy. Even if it's making a sandwich for lunch. So, I never turn her down when she offers something. Even if I'm not hungry. I like making her smile.
I play another song before I go upstairs, because the comfort is still clinging to me.
And I'm clinging back like hell.
As I'm playing, a few notes stand out. The way they fit together strikes me in a way I hadn't heard before. I stop the song and play the notes again. Then I transpose it to a lower key. The combination flits across my mind. There and then gone.
I start the song again, and when I get to those notes, I stop. The new melody springs back into my mind, and I play those keys again.
Followed by a few more.
I find the bass notes in my left hand, and the sound becomes fuller. I play it again.
And suddenly I can hear it in my mind. I can visualize the strings and frets of my guitar, and I hum the sound to myself. This is no simple chorus. This is a hook. And it actually sounds pretty damn good.
And now I'm smiling. I'm smiling while that hook repeats on a loop in my mind, a tiny ember flickering to life.
I guess sometimes all you need is a little inspiration. And sometimes inspiration is a smile from the right person at the right time.
Tuesday, December 5
(Gus)
It's time.
After seeing Keller and Stella last week, I know it's time.
After experiencing my first glimpse of musical inspiration in months, I know it's time.
All day, I've been staring at the disc Bright Side left for me. It's been sitting in my room for months now. It's dusty. I haven't touched it.
Until now.
Now I'm inserting it in my laptop.
I hold my breath and hit play. And suddenly I hear her voice, just like I knew I would.
"Hey, bestie." She pauses. She hasn't called me that in years, and she's giving me time to absorb that. Then she laughs, and the sound of it hits me full-force, right in the heart. Jesus, I've missed that laugh. She's laughing because she knows I hated it when she called me "bestie" when we were younger. I always told her only girls call each other that. Today, I can't deny how much I love hearing it.
She continues. "I know you're listening to this months after I'm gone. Who knows, maybe it's next year already." She knows me. She knew I'd put this off as long as I could. "And I know these past months have been shit. How do I know? Because, I can't even imagine our roles being reversed. I can't imagine losing you. I don't know what I would do without you, Gus. You've been the one person I've clung to my entire life. You're my life preserver. Whenever I thought life was just too damn hard or that it couldn't possibly get any worse, all I had to do was think about you or talk to you and that made everything better. For twenty years. You. Your laid-back attitude. Your wicked fucking sense of humor. Your caring nature. Your love. It saved me. Every. Single. Time. It reminded me of the goodness in the world. You, me, and Gracie. We took on the world together. We were a team. The best.
"I know that God put certain people in my path in life to teach me something. Not only did you teach me how to swim, and how to surf, and how to play guitar, and how to drive, and how to swear," she pauses and that beautiful giggle comes through the speakers again, "but you showed me what unconditional love feels like. I knew, without a doubt, my entire life, that whenever and wherever I needed you, you'd be there for me. Whether it was to help me work through a song I was writing and struggling with. Or to watch the sunset with me. Or to love Gracie as much as I did. Or just to talk. Or to hug me because I just needed a hug. Or to hold my hand while I had blood drawn or IVs inserted, even though you hate needles. You always knew how to make me feel better, even if you didn't know you were doing it. There's always been a connection between us. I knew what you were going to say before you said it, because I knew what you were thinking. I could see it in your eyes. I could see it in your expressions. I could hear it even when you didn't vocalize it. And I know it was the same for you. You could finish my sentences ... and they were always way fucking funnier when you did, dude. I'll miss the way you answered the phone when I called. I'll miss your lazy, beautiful smile. I'll miss being called Bright Side. I loved it when you called me that. It made me feel like I could do anything. Get through anything. It was a badge of honor I wore proudly. Because it meant that I was special to you. And that meant the world to me. Please know that as friends go, you hold the prize, dude. You've mastered friendship. You're a goddamn friendship Jedi. I could live a thousand years and never have a better friend than you.