Friend one had just made it to the back of the stage when he stopped. Mostly because the stage, project, and entire competition disappeared from all around him and left him sitting in a chair out looking an empty audience - but also because he refused to abandon a friend. Way down down center stage stood what appeared to be a conductor clad in pristine white garb with a krystal conductor’s stick. All around him sat the instrumentalists - faceless bodies save friend two on lead piano, Dinklespam on clarinet, and an unfamiliar face on lead violin (the section where sat friend one). Lead violinist turned to friend one, “Better use the bathroom now, we start the whole thing in a few minutes.”
Once again confused, “I don’t have…” Friend one was cut off by a sudden urge in his bladder. Accusingly, “You put pee in my bladder!”
Lead violinist payed no attention, “Time is running out.”
Friend two glared back at the shuffling from the opening section. Friend one had made his way behind the amphitheatre to the bathroom, used it, and exited. To his expected surprise, his step out of the bathroom was a step into coastal waters. It is important to note here that although it is coastal water, this body of water lies between the now vanished bathroom and the amphitheatre. Cheers and jeers now muffled out across the water as he swam back; upon reaching the entrance guard one announced, “Ticket.”
To this, friend one shuttered, “I-I’m in th-the orchestra. L-leading section.”
Guard two, “Why are you shivering? And if you’re in the orchestra what are you doing out here.”
“I h-had to use the ba-bathroom a-a-and this water is freezing.”
Guard one, “Fine.” The water, shivering, and guards disappear.
Lead violinist, “Ready? Remember to put feeling into your solo.” Looks directly at friend one with a death stare as friend two deathly glares.
Friend one - horrified, “When did I get a solo?”
Friend two, “When you were in the bathroom, right before you left for you requested it.”
A crisp tap-tap-tap resonated throughout the air. The crowd drew silent as they darkened and the instruments lightened. The conductor pointed to friend one who struggled to memorize the opening solo at the last minute. All eyes turned to him as he steadied his instrument and readied his bow. The conductor nodded - as the last tap’s echo faded, so a peacefully distant cry played through listening ears. Three enraged eyes beamed to the source as the solo continued, completely off notes. As the cry faded, the bow was tipped forward and brought up to recognize the cry as a wail -switch - the wail become a firm sound. Confident in his ability - closing his eyes to the now slowly fading glares - sorrow en-captivated as heart-felt trembling echoed. The conductor approved onward, the lead violinist readied for an unannounced cue. As instantly as eyes watered so were hearts comforted by thallow notes resonating a hope for solace. The conductor left the violinist alone as he began an interlude to the rest of the orchestra and pointed to the drums. He drew a pattern of feint and slow beats building to audible and paced - laying base to the entire show. Tears of joy flowed from the audience who understood the tale encouraging further the lullaby to the first cry.
The lead violinist, encouraged by the on the spot solo, recognized an inconspicuous beam in the eye from the conductor and lead in the rest of the section. Being the only, friend two chimed in hastened at first with the piano, but slowly gave into the vibrant colours by the two sections already playing. Friend one recognized the offer and spun off into a duet as the rest of his section rested from their intro. They first went back and forth from past entanglements, but slowly met each other note for parallel note until the conductor faded the drums out and let them play. The audience laughed as a picture of a one-on-one snowball fight painted the stage. Randomly, friend one was moved from his section to sitting back to back with the piano - closed eyes still lazily engaged with peace of a new spring. The violin glistened into being an older youth escorting the piano’s beautiful youth through a riverside forest cascaded by the winds section. Up from the crossroads approached a couple on separate paths - one played by a trumpet and the other the clarinet. The trumpet called to the violin as the clarinet called out. The violin sighed a farewell to the trumpet to find the piano duo-ed with the clarinet.The violin plead to the piano persistently till lashed out against. The symphony drowned out the solo violinist whose back was now to an empty wall. The conductor was calmed through the hastening of the tempo. Note played after note till the audience felt rushed and clung to the edge of their seats with a nimble few waiting for the original duo to play once more. The fanciful hollowness of the clarinet played with the piano in a glass case built by distant horns and cellos. The violinist ignorant to his bloodied neck fingers tried once more, the conductor sternly assisting him with his spare hand. A spare cry muttered as thallow pain sprang from his fingers. The sections, now playing in full, refusive to let him in for his syncing to the trumpet so easily.
He recognized the flow of the conductor’s hands. He eyed the conductor and played The Wailing of the Forsaken. Audience members now falling out of their seats as the violinist now stood and moved forward to down stage right. The clarinet cut itself off with a shriek and the conductor arrested all but the drums. It opened with a moan not distant from that of a sad song’s verse. Heavy laden with the sound of grief he let it’s strings vibrate out to a curdling silence. The drums rapped in rhythm of their heart beats. The drummer thumped the kick again-the conductor stopped him-the base of the drum was countered by the sound of summer. Vibrant and flowing with life - birds chirped in harmony to the picking of a flower. The flower was offered in query. Everything stared, desiring the violinist to answer the question. A few confused eyes reassured themselves with the conductor’s flat hands. Silence insisted, the audience pressed each others backs - writhed by the wanting of sound. Trembling hands fumbled for the notes to answer, shallow breaths attempted to draw in the audience. With a rap of his wand, the conductor suffocated the latter instrument - the hands no longer fumbled. A melody of sweet harmony and utter beauty was birthed. The flower was braided into a drape flowing down the back of the beautiful youth.
The conductor signaled a reprise by the horns - announcing the setting of glowing red sun a fore the details of swirling grays, orange, and pinks produced by the cellos, lead violinist, and flutes. Silence - night - settled. A stray flute blossomed into the air followed by an explosion of a percussion.This played in rhythm as the audience saw fireworks against a chorus of stars. The snares and cymbals played the finale drowned out by the BOOM of a tribal drum. The silence had tucked the audience in for the night. The instrumentalists laid their pieces to rest. The conductor turned with arms reaching to the side - wand flicking inconspicuously to the right. As the audience went to congratulate the evenings story, a bow was pulled across bloodied strings. Keys pecked in tune of a starry night. The two now fervently playing their final piece - jaws dropped as each played multiple parts at once. The piano drawing a vale and spattering it with flickering stars also constructed a smooth, wooden floor with a moonlight view. The violin, played as a whole orchestra in one, resonated with a tune worthy of a dance. A crowd now gathered on the floor, each column had a pair. Slow was the initial build up - slow was the start of the dance. Feet tapped in syncing to the tune. Then, as a unit, the pairs stepped forward (some backwards) - a twang of tune - a step to the side - round went the lady guests. Repeated until the rise of twilight - the extras disappeared - the stars flickered brighter - the conductor with a grin to his audience. All twas left was guest one and guest two stepping, stepping, turning, and sometimes twirling the night’s final dance. The last string played. The final key stroked. A final, slow twirl and the two engaged in each others eyes, the violinist gasping - blood rushing off the soaked violin. Friend two stood from the piano, friend one stepped closer - neither breaking the conversation their eyes were holding. A thunderous applause from the audience shook the amphitheatre’s foundations to it’s very corner stone.
Friend one took a stray, random floating blue lilly still without breaking contact. With the bleeding hand he took friend two’s hand meeting the base of their gaze with the flower. A radiant smile beamed from her face. (Friend one did in fact mutter her name here, but as the audience began it’s standing ovation, so was her name drowned out). “I can’t hear you,” she yelled.
He repeated, “As lightening as this is,” he beamed, “I don’t know to play the violin except for when I played a nursery rhyme many years back.”
She laughed, “I thought I was the only one going mad with your craziness. I don’t know how to play the piano much either.”
He handed her the flower and gestured an apology for the blood, “So’re we good again?”
She leaped from her spot behind the piano and embraced him with the force of a constricting snake, “We will be, now shush. Don’t ruin the moment.” All but three were the last to depart, two embraced and one standing…oh! And the janitor, but he’s in the back. “I know.”
He looked quizzical, “You know what?”
“You were debating on when would be the right time to speak again. And you were about to say, ‘I love you’ when I said, ‘I know’. Am I wrong?”
He let his shiftyness speak her accuracy, “Well there’s a whole couple languages I coulda said. For starters: elephant shoes, allahcuzoo, kokorodesune, ummm perhaps my favourite,” he broke to one knee…mostly because of the pain he was now feeling in his hand. “I love you too.”
Somewhere the janitor cast a spark from a socket, the third one left walked away the lights going with him. All but the light from a peering moon reflecting a rising sun on the two friends remained.
author’s notes: um, ya…really i feel explanably worthful is that the ending sorta wrapped up more sappy than comical bc i watched tangled before getting back to the end of this. questions, comments, typos, concerns?
ohhhhhh! and yes, the word is thallow its another one of my own creations.
thallow: adj., adv. Used to describe a two part experience in which second or outside part is hallow, but the inside or first part is thick. Example: “The thallow pain in his fingers…” to the core it is a very thick (sharp) pain in the bone, but intitially where the wire has cut him it hurts less and differently. Or like the sad cry from a violin, its reverberation is depressive to the heart the closer to the string it resonates from, the more eerie it is.
