Day 1.
Pacing around his situation, he stopped to take it all in. It was a rust colored shack, situated in the mountainous region of- what state was he in anyway? A heavy snow had fallen the few short days before his arrival. The truck had a hard time getting up there, sliding along the rural roads patched with ice and lined with thick banks of blinding reflections.
The house sat alone, surrounded by a thicket of pine trees, their roots so large it provided aide to ascend the hill from the truck to the A-frame. Of course, he did fall, but the roots helped a lot. A small path covered by greens was protected from the snow. He had followed it that morning, standing at the end to gaze out to a panoramic view of the small town upon the lake a few miles along. He could hardly make out the ski lift’s slow rotation. Its mundane routine blanketed by white.
The interior of the house was quaint. A large common hall was lined with a rug made by the locals. Thick wood furniture was poorly cushioned, so one usually preferred the new beige sofa over the wooden chairs. He certainly did. A television rested on a small coffee table. It could only get three channels on its fuzzy screen: news, a movie channel, and the Food Network. So whoever spent snowed-in days would become master chefs. There was no phone, no internet, so visitors needed to keep their cell phone charged.
Across the room was the kitchen. The crafter of the large bar must have taken a lifetime to perfect it. Every smooth line and small detail was amazing in this antique. Four weak-kneed stools sat around it, and behind it were the fridge, a wash basin, stove, and cabinets for silverware and china.
There were two bedrooms, both sparsely decorated. The main budget apparently had been spent on the hall. Small matted photographs of the town were thrown carelessly on walls over the mahogany bed frames. The mattresses were either firm or like small clouds.
Thankfully, there was a bathroom with running water, instead of an outhouse, so there wouldn’t be freezing trips at night.
Standing before the back door, he laid his head against its wooden frame. He could manage this, he knew, but it wouldn’t be easy.
“If only he was here. Mike always knows what to do…”
Day 6
He had to admit, the alone time was nice, but sometimes it got a little too lonely. The townspeople were very isolated and didn’t take to people from other places all too well. Every time he even went into the market to get food to make his meals, he felt shunned. Tomas didn’t like it that much. So he made it a point to do as the others did, and shut himself up in the house cooking and writing.
But every Friday would be grocery day, and Tomas had to face the town yet again. He knew he was only staying for a few weeks, but the weather was threatening to turn it into a few months if it had its way. So Tomas braved the walk down to the market and back, hoping people wouldn’t deliberately splash him with freezing water as they drove by, or point and laugh at his body type. Most of the people here were well built, due to the outdoorsmen style of living.
Tomas was a twig compared to them.
However, on one Friday, as Tomas made way to the market, he passed by someone he hadn’t seen before in the few days he was in the mountains. She was a slender looking girl, unlike the women of the town, with long brown hair that she wore in a delicate braid, and the most dazzling jade eyes Tomas had ever seen. She was whistling, unlocking a tiny gate on the pathway to a small cottage-like building. She caught on that Tomas was staring at her and waved.
“Hello over there!”
Tomas shook out of his dazed expression and waved back.
“You look cold,” she continued, “Why don’t you come in and get a coffee or something?” She motioned for him to follow, and Tomas did. She seemed to be a nice girl.
The cottage was actually a small café and deli. The girl’s name was Tallulah and she was new to the village, and very quick to start up a life. She bought the old place from the previous owner and had spent the last week decorating and cleaning up the place. It was beautiful. There were lovely paintings framed upon walls painted a soft yellow. The round tables had yellow and orange mosaic suns underneath thick panes of glass, and artistically carved wooden chairs sat around them. It was very warm and very homey.
Tallulah poured out two small cups of coffee and placed two tea cookies on a plate at the table Tomas had sat in front of, “What brings you out here, Mr. K?”
“It’s Tomas,” he smiled, “I’m here to get away. To take time to clear my thoughts.”
“Girl troubles?” She smiled into her cup, inhaling the aroma that the drink cast about the room. Relaxing and warm. Tomas just laughed and shook his head. Of course that wasn’t it. There wasn’t even a girl to begin with. Besides, he wasn’t having problems…. entirely.. Okay, so he was. But that wasn’t why he was up here, right?
“I’m a musician. A songwriter,” Tomas smiled, clarifying his meaning for the girl across the table that seemed to be made of sunshine. She nodded calmly and smiled, showing her interest. “I have been stressed lately because I made too hard of a goal for myself and I needed to focus. I come out here whenever I need that time.”
“Too hard of a goal?” Her eyebrow arched playfully as she nibbled on a cookie.
“8 cds,” Tomas smirked, grabbing his own cookie off the plate.
Tallulah laughed wholeheartedly at this profound statement, “That’s a little more than you can chew, indeed! And I thought this café opening in a week was impossible…”
Tomas smirked and laughed under his breath. After a few more minutes in her company, he bid farewell to Tallulah Price and was on his way to get his groceries again.
Day 7
Tomas knew it was Saturday. Of course, back home, it was game night. A night he knew of but never was invited to. Why? Because Brown and Matt started it as bonding time for the horn section. They would play a board or card game or two and then talk for a while. Sometimes it lasted until 4 AM. Tomas…. He envied it. But it wasn’t time to be envious. It was time to relax and enjoy his time to write and collect his thoughts.
So it was time for a nature hike.
Tomas already had his gray pea coat and boots on from earlier. He had been helping Tallulah at the grand opening of the café. Of course, Tomas wasn’t allowed to leave empty handed, so wrapped around his neck was a very long and bright blue and orange knitted scarf. It was long enough to wrap around three times and still hang to about his knees, and the wrapped fabric covered up his stubbly chin. One thing he hated about well water was shaving. Getting that nasty tasting liquid near his mouth was not at all enjoyable. Tomas grabbed his hat, and used the rusty key to lock the door. Instead of heading through the clearing towards town, Tomas slid down the hill and walked west.
The sun was still providing light for him to see, but it was clear that it would set soon. This was his favorite time of day. Dodging the trees, Tomas clambered along the path, rather clumsily thanks to the ivy that blanketed the ground and the mud from the melting snow. About a half of a mile down the path, the smell of lilacs began to waft towards Tomas. It was very pleasant, the scent. The incline of the ground became very steep, and it was then required to use your hands to climb up protruding roots, lest you walk about another quarter of a mile around the hill. But if Tomas wanted to make it in time, he would have to climb.
He reached the top with a minute to spare. The sight was worth the mile. The trees parted over a snow-covered clearing. Peeping through the snow were incredibly out of season lilacs and orchids, popping up from their white blankets. They lined the river, cutting through the ground like a snake, and rushing off towards the sun, where it looked like it fell off the end of the world. Rocks jutted up on the horizon and framed the waters, where Tomas usually sat thinking. He snapped a picture quickly as the sun began to dive out of view. (Brown would have to develop these photos later- Tomas was still learning the art of the darkroom)
Tomas sat upon the rocks, watching the water cascading down to the other river below, where a fawn was drinking. It was beautiful. He then picked up his phone and dialed the first number on his speed dial.
Matt hung up the phone and checked the time. 8:15 pm. They were late. Shoving he phone in his pocket, he mumbled to himself, “Goddamn it. First Tomas calls out of fucking nowhere just to tell me about the sunset and wakes me up, and now they’re-”
He was cut off as the streetlamp out front illuminated a car parking. “Late.” Matt walked to the hall closet and brought down the game for the night- Apples to Apples. Mike Soprano’s favorite.
"Sorry I’m late!” Mike Brown burst through the door, Jim trailing, “The boss switched my hours with Angie’s shift, and then I had to go get this motherfucker cause his car is in the shop.”
Matt laughed as Jim crashed down into a chair around the round table in the living room, “At least you guys are here. I don’t know where the fuck Soprano is. He’s never late and he never misses game night.”
“Yeah, I tried calling him like…4 times, and no answer,” Jim sighed, kicking his feet up on the table, which Matt shoved off.
They waited for quite a while for Soprano to show. Time flew and Jim was getting impatient.
“Can we just start and add him in later?” He was tapping his foot rather loudly on the hardwood flooring. It was giving Matt a headache.
Brown signed, and opened his water bottle, “Yeah. What if he doesn’t show, Matt?”
“He never miss-“
“I’m just playing devil’s advocate.”
“Okay,” Matt sighed, sitting down and giving up, “Deal out.”
Later in the game, Matt decided to fill everyone in on his phone call. “I heard from Tomas today.” He picked a green card from the deck and laid it out, “The word is fluffy.”
Jim selected a red card from his hand, snickered at it, and smiled, “How is our little songbird doing?”
Matt looked over the two cards and choked on his soda, “My dreams and AIDS? Seriously? Fuck. He’s doing fine. Wrote like 9 songs this week.”
“Freaking fantasmic! Almost one CD…out of 8!”
“Oh come off it Jim,” Brown laughed, “So, Matty. Is he locking himself up again, or is he making an attempt to be social?”
“He made a friend!” Matt smiled. Mike lit up at that. About damn time. Matt took another sip, “A coffee shop owner, apparently.”
Mike blushed beneath his cards. Coffee shop, eh? Trying to say something with this, Tommy boy?
“Some girl named Tallulah,” Mat finished, “He really seems lo like her.”
Mike’s face fell, and he feebly mumbled an, “Oh.”
Matt took notice. No one can fool the wise trumpet. Besides, as Tomas’ confidant Matt knew about the struggles Tomas had been facing. That, and Mike’s relationship with Tomas was completely different from the family bonds he showed with his other bandmates.
Matt wasn’t blind. Brown loved Tomas.
But Matt knew Soprano had feelings hidden away for Tomas. But it didn’t seem as wholehearted as the love Brown held for the singer. But Matt would keep quiet. He honored his friendship with Tomas enough to respect the secrecy he held so dear.
Tomas walked up and unlocked the A-frame. He checked his phone to see a message from Jim that he couldn’t reach Soaps and wondered if Tomas knew where he was. Tomas honestly didn’t, but it wouldn’t hurt to try calling him.
It kept ringing. “Come on, Mike. Pick uuuuppp.”
Soprano reached for his phone. 4 missed calls from Jim, 2 from Brown. Now…
“Who is it, Mike?”
He looked at the woman in the chair from his small red couch, “Tomas.”
“Ah. The one on the ‘spiritual’ journey to find himself, right?”
“Along the lines,” Soaps sighed, rubbing his arm and watching the phone ring, debating whether or not to answer.
“Isn’t worrying over his safety the cause of your stress? Wouldn’t answering it relieve it?” she sighed.
Soprano flicked the phone open.
“Hello?”
“Not exactly, Helen,” he covered his phone up, “I’ll only worry more if it’s bad news.”
“I’m here, Mike. Talk.”
Mike put the cell to his ear, “Hello.” There was no answer. Tomas must have hung up. Casting his eyes to his feet and turned off his phone.
Tomas watched his cell die before his eyes, “SHIT!” He rushed and grabbed his charger and dialed the number again. No answer.
The phone began to ring shortly after, but it wasn’t Soaps….
Day 8
Tomas woke up to his cell ringing. It was resting upon the oak nightstand beside him, charging, when the sounds stirred him from his slumber. He fumbled to sit up under the sheets he was now entangled in, and reached over, glancing at the clock. Sunday. 9:30 AM. He had been up all night on the phone with Brown- a very new thing. Usually only Matt was the one to call. To call and talk about the falls, the lake, the people…
Without meaning to, Tomas held the phone to his ear, “Morning Mike.”
“Who’s Mike? This is ‘Lulah.”
“Oh.” Tomas blushed, as he tried to figure out why his subconscious did that. He was thinking about Matt at the time, and their many conversations. Why did his brain assume Mike Brown was on the other end?
“You sound disappointed, Tomas. Is this Mike ~special~ to you?” He swore he could see her eyebrows wiggle through the phone.
“’Lulah, you’re treading on thin ice, and I really would push you…..”
“Sorry…. Well, now that you’re awake- and honestly, Tomas, if we really are friends, you shouldn’t keep secrets from me, goodness- I was only calling you this morning- which is quite lovely- to ask if you would help me create a new desert- since you’re so smart- for the café to sell,” she gasped, finally breathing at the end of the incredibly tedious sentence. Tomas was surprised someone could go on like that an expect someone to follow. But it was Tallulah Price he was talking about.
“Sure, I’ll be down once I shower and grab a bite.” He needed time to think this whole talk through.
“Oh, pish! You could just eat here. No charge,” she chirped.
Tomas rubbed his neck, “I dunno. I’d feel bad.”
“I insist.” With that, she was off the line, and Tomas threw himself into his pillow, and exhaled.
-----
Tomas sat on the counter as the pastries baked. Tallulah was fixing the hem on her skirt. The café had only two customers inside: a young couple, most likely tourists, using the time for small talk, cuddles, and coffee. Tomas smiled and turned his eyes back to the oven.
“So… Mike…” Tallulah questioned, stopping only to snap the thread in two with her teeth, “What does he do in the band?”
“Well,” Tomas chuckled softly, “Mike Brown plays the baritone saxophone, and Mike Soprano plays the trombone.”
She smiled at that, putting away her needle and spool, “You have a horn section?” To which, of course, Tomas nodded happily, putting away his notebook in the pocket of his cargo pants. She seemed very enthusiastic about it, which made Tomas a very happy man indeed. It always helped when they seemed interested in what he did. He could open up more. Tallulah tried to hide a giggle behind her hand, “Are they all named Mike?”
He smiled.
Getting off the counter at the bell of the oven, Tomas adjusted his hat and went to retrieve the food, “Well, our trumpet is Matt. But our alto is Jim. Which breaks the whole ‘M’ thing. And we have Pete on bass and Chris on drums. Pretty amazing group of guys, in my opinion.”
“I bet they are. I’d love to see you guys play someday. But it’s sad that Jim threw off the Ms. You should call him Mitchell. That’d be badass,” Tallulah giggled, watching Tomas sit back atop the counter, cookies cooling to his right.
“The reason I called you Mike was he and I were on the phone before, and I thought he was calling me back.”
His gaze met a devilish grin, “That’s what they all say...” Tomas blushed. She smiled in return, “I knew it. There was an awkward silence.
The couple was looking over the deserts.
“Play me something.”
Tomas woke up from his trance, “Wha? But… I don’t have my guitar. It’s back at the…”
“I have one here, silly. What do you think I do when you’re not around and there’s no one to serve?” She laughed at his red face, and got off of her chair.
Tomas had never seen a more beautiful guitar. His hands were shaking as he took the instrument from his friend’s hands. If only he could tell Matt or Brown or Soaps….ANYONE about this guitar. “W…w..What should I play.” Suddenly the confident Tomas was gone, and he was curling up in his shell. It was intimidating to play on this beauty, for fear of damaging it.
“I’d be happy to hear anything.”
Tomas took a deep breath.
----
Tallulah watched Tomas leave, his bright purple scarf trailing him in the wind, and smiled. Until she heard a noise. A trumpet solo by Dizzy Gillespie to be exact. Her eyes poked over the counter to see a little silver cell phone buzzing across the floor, the smooth jazzy sounds coming from it. Tallulah stood up on her toes and leaned over the counter, grabbing the cell phone.
The tiny screen displayed a picture of the trumpeter, and the name Matt Stewart as the dialer. She recognized the name. Tomas just told it to her. This must have been his phone. She ran with the phone to the door, and Tomas was nowhere in sight. The call ended and a small tone alerted Tallulah that Matt had hung up.
“Oh dear.”
She looked own at the phone. No one would be able to reach Tomas now. Not even she could. She knew the A-frame had no phone. It wasn’t listed. She sat down and looked through the phone. Pictures of his band, his friends, his family. Videos from the long RV rides. She laughed, learning more and more about her friend. Then came the contact list.
“I wonder…”
Mike Brown was painting at the moment that his phone went off. Blue paint splattered all over his hands due to a stubborn tube. He hurried to wash it off, knowing that ringtone from anywhere- Tomas was calling.
“Hold on, damnit. Don’t hang up!” he yelled at the small blue square on his table, and picking it up once his hands were dry, “Hello?”
“Hi is this Mike Brown?” A girl’s voice. This of course sent Mike into shock.
He tried to hold back any emotion and stuttered out a, “Yes. W-who’s this?” And what are you doing on Tomas’ phone.
“This is Tallulah.”
Figures. It was that girl Matt told him about, “Hi.”
“Hey, Tomas left his phone at the café, and I really wanted to learn more about you guys. He talks about his band so much,” she paused, “Especially you.”
Mike blushed behind the phone and whimpered, “He… does?
Tallulah giggled, “Mmyep! He actually thought I was you this morning. He thought you were calling but I was there…”
Mike zoned out for a second, happy with what Tallulah had told him. Maybe this girl wasn’t all that bad.
“..and I was thinking I should surprise Tomas, since he’s been helping me open up the café.. and it’s a lot of hard work…. So I was hoping you could come down here…”
Mike snapped back to reality, “Down where?”
“Down here. To visit Tomas.”
Mike smiled, “Please. Continue.”
Day 9
The next day was beautiful. After a trek to Tallulah’s for his phone (during which he bought a bagel and latte, and Tallulah made him feel good about himself) Tomas decided to spend the day outdoors.
Sure, it was cold, but that’s what cloves and Tallulah’s scarves are for. Today was hunter green, just like Tomas’ favorite hat. It wasn’t as long as the others, but the fringe was braided in clusters, which made the scarf elegant.
Tomas made a detour from the café, and walked straight through town. He felt so confident and special today, thanks to the brilliant weather and the compliments he had just received. He held his head high, and walked down main street’s dusty pathway, towards the frozen lake, where many locals were skating and fishing upon the ice. He found a nice pier and sat, watching as little children twirled and swooped by on their blades, creating quite a show. He clapped for one girl who did a pirouette like a ballerina, and she giggled. In the distance, the parents scowled as the capped man sang songs to the girl about stars and a fair maiden who waltzed along the Milky Way. The girl was very happy and honored that the man would tell her these nice tales, skating towards him to thank him.
But not all was well. A group of teenagers weren’t so happy about Tomas’ presence.
Some outsider was on their dock, playing around with some kid. Didn’t he know this was their property, and he wasn’t welcome?
“Hey.”
Tomas turned around, smiling, “Hi!” Then his face fell.
----
Tallulah was walking down main street as well, but for different reasons. She was in need of flour, and was heading to market. On the way there, she whistled, happy to know that Mike would be in town by supper to surprise Tomas. Then she heard shouting. She rushed down to the source, the kind soul she was, only to see Tomas’ bag fly through the air, just missing her head.
“Oh, no. Oh, God no.”
Tallulah knew their names. Rodney, Josh, and Kris. They were the sons of the banker of the town- snobbish boys that always slipped out of the town law’s clutches, thanks to a name.
But now, they were picking on the most innocent person she knew.
Tallulah tried to push through, holding the bag (which contained Tomas’ phone and notebook) tight in her right hand. The swell just pushed her back. She had to help him. What would his band do without him? What would Mike do if he showed up to nothing? She, without thinking, moved fast.
Swinging the bag, Tallulah hung it from the high branches of a nearby tree for safety. No one but she could get it now. She pushed violently through the crowd until she was in the inside ring. They had bruised him, alright. To the bone. He had a black eye now.
Splash.
Tomas fell through the ice. Tallulah screamed, “Fuck you all! Get away from him!” She shoved past Rod, leaping in after her best friend. The water was cold. It burned her eyes, and she had trouble moving. But she still grabbed him and got him up to the ice. She slid Tomas ashore, watching him spout up water. She was sure she couldn’t get out. He was too weak. Her eyes slowly closed under pained lids.
--------------
Tomas opened his eyes in time to see Tallulah’s hands slipping on the ice. They soon became motionless, stilled. He tried to move to her, but his bruises and the ice cold numbness of his body wouldn’t allow him any more motion than turning his head. So he began to shout.
“Someone! Please! She’s gonna drown if no one helps her! I can’t move…” His eyes moved from person to person, back to Tallulah, and then to the crowd again. She had just saved his life- he couldn’t let anything happen to her. The whole area around him blurred in this delirious vision, and Tomas was getting rather dizzy.
Suddenly, he heard a little voice behind him, “I’m sorry I’m too small to help you mister.” Tomas looked over his shoulder to see the little girl he had been enjoying time with earlier. “But my big cousin and his family are in town, and they could probably help.” A teenage boy was running towards them. Tomas, out of instinct, flinched, but the boy passed them and ran to Tallulah. “That’s my cousin Chuck,” the girl explained, “He’s gonna help your friend.”
Tomas smiled, and with all the strength he could, mustered a hug for the little girl. She giggled. The girl’s Aunt was barreling down to the lake now, her arms overflowing with towels and blankets. Seeing as they were visiting family, they could be considered tourist-like, too. Maybe that’s why they were helping Tomas. Who knows, maybe they just knew what was right.
“Oh dear,” the woman said, drying Tomas off with a towel, “You’re soaked to the bone! We have to get you a change of clothes.” She bustled about, drying as much as she could, before dumping two large afghans on Tomas, tucking them around him snugly. Tomas blushed at all the attention. The woman then stooped to his level, “We need to get you into dry clothes and off this ice. We can get back to your friend after you are taken care of. We don’t want you getting sick. Where is your house?”
“It’s really far. A half a mile’s walk,” Tomas sputtered, lips freezing and cracking as he spoke. He would really need chapstick after this.
“Oh dear. Well, let’s stand you up then,” she sighed, trying to grip Tomas under the arms. She was a strong little woman, for sure. After Tomas was standing wobbly on his feet, she smiled, “You’re about Chuck’s size. I don’t think he’d mind if I give you something of his to wear. We live just on the shore of the lake here.” She began to guide Tomas to the cabin, his weak knees barely able to move under the weight of his blankets.
Tomas was still worried, and looked over his shoulder. At that instant, Chuck and his father drew Tallulah from the water. She was still as a calm ocean. They had to get her breathing again.
------
After Tomas changed into a red and black striped sweater and a new pair of jeans (surprising enough, he and Chuck were perfect size matches), the woman was still working with him. She had dried his hair, put his hat in their dryer, and was making him soup. This of course, was all to kind for Tomas. He felt like he owed the family. But she insisted that it “Wasn’t too big a deal.”
Soon after the soup was served to him at the table, the Uncle and Chuck came through the door with Tallulah, who was also wrapped in blankets. While they worked on getting her clothes, Tomas started up a conversation with Chuck. He told him many thanks, they talked about the band, about Chuck wanted to design video games, and Tomas told chuck he wanted to repay him.
“Don’t worry about it,” Chuck smiled, “I just expect that when I get to see you play, you’ll be wearing that sweater.” Tomas grabbed the hem of the sweater in his hands and smirked, nodding.
“That seems reasonable.”
Tallulah soon was out and eating soup in borrowed clothes from their daughter, who was out visiting town and missed all the commotion. She sat down next to Tomas, took a sip to warm her numb lips, and muttered, “Hey.”
“Glad to see you’re alive,” Tomas chuckled, himself finishing his soup.
She smiled, “I was more worried about you, kiddo.” The clock on the wall read noon.
------
Chuck’s family kept Tallulah and Tomas there for quite some time, until they were able to get up and walk on their own, when they left the house. It was getting quite close to dinner time by then, and Tomas’ black eye didn’t look as bad as it did earlier. That was a blessing.
“Well, that was a morning I won’t be able to forget,” Tallulah laughed.
Tomas laughed loudly, “Yeah. The day we almost died.”
“That’s going into a song, isn’t it?”
“You’re catching on really quick, you know that?”
They reached the café, which was practically untouched through this whole day. No people had gone through the doors, most of them out witnessing the event. There was no money or food missing. Tomas watched as Tallulah sigh relief over that, and took off his bag. They had brought that in with her, since she wouldn’t leave without it. His book was still bone dry, thank god, as he started writing in it about the days happening, most of them in a lyrical format. This was helping that whole mission of his perfectly.
“Hey Tomas?” Tallulah mumbled from behind the counter.
Tomas looked up from his book, “What up?”
“What time is it?”
Tomas looked at the clock, “Like, five of five. Why?”
Tallulah just smiled in return, her face now visible, as the door jingled open behind Tomas.
-----
Mike Brown was rather shocked at how peaceful the town was. As his car crawled through the snowy scenery, he immediately understood why Tomas went here. He felt such an urge to get out his camera and go crazy. It was beautiful. The hills would make such great paintings, the lake glistening in the reflection in his eyes.
He had no trouble finding the Grand Staff. Not with the people standing around and whispering about an outsider with a green hat. It couldn’t be anyone else than his Tomas. Mike tried to get into the conversations to find out what was going on, but people gave him nasty looks and continued on their way.
Now he understood why Tomas shut himself up in his cabin.
When he walked in, he saw a thin girl behind the counter, smiling. She had to have been Tallulah. And of course, there was Tomas- sitting with his book and a coffee. Mike stood silent and watched him, as Tomas took no notice to the question Tallulah had asked him. He took his hat off and ran a hand through his hair, dangling a pencil from his left hand like a cigarette. It had been a while since an actual cancer stick lingered in those fingers, thank god, and the pencil was a nice replacement. Tomas let out a small sigh.
Tallulah broke the silence, “Hello! Welcome to the Grand Staff! How can I help you?”
Tomas put his hat back on, and put down his pencil.
Mike smiled, “I’d like an iced coffee, if you would be so kind.”
Tomas looked up once he heard Mike’s voice. His face resembled that of a deer, about to be plowed over. Mike laughed, as Tomas flew from his seat, jumping to wrap his arms around his friend. Mike welcomed the embrace, his arms resting across Tomas’ back. It seemed too good to be true to see his friend again. Until a small “ouch” escaped Tomas’ lips.
“What’s wrong?” Mike asked, pulling away from Tomas’ hug to look the boy over. It was then he noticed the black eye, the cuts by his ear, the bruises on his arms… the pain in his eyes. Mike looked at Tallulah. She had bruises on her forearms and her eyes revealed the cold and pain she had been put through. It confused Mike. If this was such a great place….
He caught Tomas’ eyes, “Why are you and Tallulah bloodied up?” Tomas whimpered.
“Tallulah saved my life, Mike,” Tomas sighed, glancing at the girl who held Mike’s iced coffee.
Tomas soon found himself back in Mike’s arms, Mike showering him with question upon question. “Who did this to you? Why didn’t you tell me? What did Tallulah save you from? What can I do to make you feel better? Anything? Anything!”
Tomas took a deep breath and inhaled Mike’s scent. Something he missed, “I’ll tell you about it back at the cabin, Mike, ok? Right now, I just want to enjoy that you’re here. How did you find me?”
“I had a mole,” Mike smiled, watching Tomas get confused.
“Matt?”
“No. Her.”
Tallulah waved, giggling. Tomas knew what she had done, “You bitch! You’re never touching my phone again.”
After a little time to clear things up, Mike and Tomas left with the sun, Tallulah waving as they departed down the dusty trail. Tomas and Mike walked side by side, Tomas sharing the extra long length of his scarf with his friend. The walk was quite long, and when they reached the hill in front of the a-frame, Mike was tired.
“You do this walk every day?” he sighed, sitting down on the roots, dragging Tomas down with him thanks to the scarf that they both wore around their necks.
Tomas adjusted himself beside his best friend, chuckling at his statement, “A few times a day, too. I’m not always with Tallulah. Some days I stay up here, or I go on nature walks. But whenever she needs a baker or I need company, I have to take that trek.”
Mike smiled, “Maybe next time I should come stay with you. I need to get in shape.” Tomas smiled. Mike was such a funny guy, and Tomas loved spending time with him because of that.
“I have some photos to develop when we get back. And I’ve finished at least one and a half CDs…”
Mike smiled, “Let’s go inside and have dinner. Tallulah tells me you’re an awesome chef.”
Tomas blushed. Crimson.
Day 10
“Hello. You’ve reached Mike Brown. If I’m not picking up, its one of three things. A- sweating in front of thousands of children in far off lands, 2- watching Speed Racer, or number C- being a lazy ass and not picking up the phone. Sing me a song and I’ll get back to you….eventually.”
Matt sighed, and put the phone down for a minute. Brown was pulling a C right now. So he gave it a few minutes and dialed again.
“Hello. You’ve reached-“
“Mike Brown. I know, I know,” Matt sighed impatiently, tapping his fingers on the desk, waiting for the beep, “Mike. Miiiike. Pick up the damn phone. I got some songs from Tomas in the mail and I wanted to get you in on working up horn parts. I’ve got Jim and Soprano already on the way.”
Chalk that up to 7 missed calls, Brown.
One more message wouldn’t hurt. “Mike. I’ve been calling your cell for about an hour. Either you forgot it in the coffee shop…again…. Or you didn’t charge it, so I give up.”
Matt shut the phone, and sighed, calling Tomas.
----
Mike felt a little strange. Maybe it was discomfort from being twisted up in the sheets of his bed, or the fact that he wasn’t in his own room. Probably was the second one. He got out of bed, feebly, and poked his head out of the bedroom door. To the right- Tomas’ door was open. He looked in, and Tomas was nowhere to be found. The bed was neatly made and all the books were put neatly in a stack.
Through the hallway, he noticed a bag. Tomas hadn’t done his laundry yet, it seemed, as the bag was by the back door, ready to go to town the next time the singer ventured out.
The kitchen was empty. A bowl that had remnants of milk at the bottom sat beside a glass in the basin for washing dishes, the spoon beside it. Tomas probably was going to wash the dishes after Mike had eaten.
The living room was untouched, with the exception of the remote having been moved across the coffee table, and Tomas’ maroon scarf was missing from the coat rack at the front door. Mike slipped on a pair of vans, wrapped himself in a hoodie and walked outside. He followed the faint sounds of a guitar and some mumbling down the back path behind the house.
---
Tomas was sitting on the edge of the hill, guitar in his lap, his phone beside him. Matt had called him about his morning frustration, and Tomas talked about his near-death experience. No mention of Mike Brown showing up out of nowhere. He had hung up quite some time ago, Tomas having wandered outside with his guitar so his talking wouldn’t wake his best friend.
He didn’t take notice of the snapping twigs and rustling of leaves that Brown was causing as he came closer. No, Tomas just kept playing, singing a bit under his breath, watching the town below, as the sun shone in scattered beams through clouds overhead. It was beautiful. Tomas’ nose was red, so cold that it was burning. He stopped strumming, nudged the scarf up over it, and continued, “Morning, Mike.”
Mike was shocked that Tomas could tell he was there so quickly. But it was Tomas. He had some natural gifts that Mike was jealous of. Tomas turned, and smiled, to which Mike sat down beside him, “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
“The town?” Tomas nodded to this, his gaze on the sky never breaking. Mike shifted in his hoodie, and picked up a pebble from the ground.
“It’s going to snow soon. I can always tell one thing here, and that’s when it’s going to snow,” Tomas continued, “You can always see it in the clouds. Maybe the water will freeze the way it did earlier this week. We could sit on it, and watch the water rush under us…”
Mike smiled, leaning back on his elbows, “I like that idea.” He looked over to see Tomas shed a small smile, from what was visible by the scarf. Tomas got up, and walked back to the cabin to put back his guitar, and Mike continued to sit there, watching the town.
---
Tomas closed the door, and looked out the window. Mike was looking at the town, holding a flower that he picked. Tomas smiled, and decided to surprise Mike. He had never been there before, so basically anything was a surprise. Mike always loved taking pictures of things that people take for granted. Things that were overlooked in every day life.
For the people here, that was nature.
So Tomas turned on the TV, and smiled, getting out an apron and utensils.
----
Mike wondered what was taking Tomas so long. He got up and walked towards the A-Frame, to see the screen door open. Tomas emerged with a basket and a very wide scarf, a mischievous smile on his face, which made Mike shiver.
“Come here!” Tomas smirked, waving towards Mike. Mike wouldn’t move, so Tomas danced over to him, and tied the scarf over his eyes.
Mike laughed, “What are you doing, Tomas?” He felt Tomas grab his hand, and within the blink of a hidden eye, he was being yanked down a rocky path. It seemed like hours before he was standing still. He felt tiny little tickling sensations all over his body. Sticking his tongue out, a small icy flake landed and melted on contact. Tomas was right. It was snowing. He opened his eyes, and watched as slender fingers pulled fabric off of his eyes.
----
Soprano was on his way to Matt’s place. It was nice enough out to walk, and it was a nice morning, so as he traveled, he passed Brown’s apartment. He decided to check up and see if Mike was heading over to the trumpeter’s abode as well, and entered the lobby. Waving to the people he knew in the area, Soprano went towards the elevator. He found Brown’s floor with no sweat, and walked to the door, about to knock, when a sticky note caught his eye.
“Visiting Tomas. Be back soon.”
“Visiting…” Soprano’s lip quivered. No one ever visited Tomas before. It was pretty surprising. Now two members of the band were out there. Who knows what will happen to them…
Then it hit him. Who knows what they would do? Soprano ripped the note from the door, leaning against the wall on his arm, slowly sliding down until he crouched against the wall.
---
Mike was amazed by his surroundings. He stood at the edge of the falls for some time, snapping a few photos, but mostly just taking it all in. The snowfall was soft and light, beautiful beyond compare.
“Mike, don’t hurt yourself.”
He turned around to see Tomas sitting upon a blanket that he had spread over the frozen river. It was over six inches frozen, enough to hold body weight. Something Tomas had taught him a while ago. That was another thing that amazed Mike- Tomas seemed to know a lot about natural occurrences. Like what repels bears, what berries are lethal, and what the color of the sky would mean about tides, animal behavior, and temperature.
The kid was a bloody genius.
Mike walked over to his companion and sat down, looking through the selections he had on the LCD screen of his camera, “I promise I won’t fall off the edge and die.” He looked up at the guitarist, who was shaking his head, a slight smirk on his face.
“I made us some lunch so we can stay out here near the falls as long as you want, okay?” Tomas continued, unwrapping a delicious looking sandwich and taking a bite, “This place is my favorite spot in town. I thought you would like it here, and I think I was right.”
“You are. So, yesterday was something, wasn’t it?”
Tomas gulped down the bite of food and looked in his lap, “Um Mike….”
Mike totally understood that one, “Oh, ok.” Touchy subject still. He tried to think of something to lighten the mood, while grabbing his own sandwich. One bite and his taste buds went insane, “Du-u-ude, Tom. What did you put on this?”
“Well, you’re eating a Hawaiian Apple-Ham Sandwich. I went meatless and have an Artichoke Anitpasto Hoagie,” Tomas explained, eating to the halfway point on his food. Mike’s mouth just hung open and he titled his head. Tomas laughed, “Ham, Granny Smith apples, cream cheese, honey mustard, mayonnaise and Muenster cheese on Hawaiian bread rolls. You like it.”
Mike nodded and began to devour the sandwich whole. Tomas blushed as Mike ate, glad he had done something that his friend enjoyed.
---
The meeting over writing horn parts went successful. The boys met at Jim’s place instead of Matt's- a last minute change, not mentioning the disappearance of Mike Brown. Jim and Matt silently believed the bari lost his phone and had work or something of the sort. Soprano kept his mouth shut.
That is, until he went to leave. He walked with Matt out of the house, when the trumpet put his hand on Soaps’ shoulder. “You okay, man? Your eyes look awful red.” Mike sighed and rubbed his right eye wearily.
“I’m alright, dude.”
“You always had a bad poker face, Soaps,” Matt stated sharply, before turning to face his friend, “What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry I missed game night. I was….. in therapy.” There. He said it. He could feel a little better, right?
Matt was shocked, “You what now? Why the hell do you need a shrink.”
“I’m losing it man,” Soaps sighed, sitting upon the hood of Matt’s car, “This whole 8 CD shit is starting to get to me too.” Matt closed his eyes and tilted his head back. He knew what was going on now. They stayed in silence for a while as Matt pieced the puzzle together, Mike staring down at the cement.
“Where’s Brown?”
Mike stood back up, turning and walking away, “With Tomas.”
Matt locked his bag in his trunk and ran after Mike.
Day 10- 8:00 PM
“Soprano! Wait up!” Matt finally caught up to Mike five streets down from Jim’s. The intersection was busy with traffic, and Mike was waiting. Matt put his hands on his knees, exhaling sharply, “You should never make a fat man run!” He panted loudly and the leaned against the lamppost.
Mike just stared blankly ahead, “Sorry.”
“Mike,” Matt collected himself, “You’re obviously upset, and I think we should grab a coffee and talk all this out, man.”
“Alright.”
Matt smiled and exhaled again, “Come on, I know a great shop down the road a whiles. We need to warm up anyway. It’s freezing out.” Mike smiled at the hospitality and followed the trumpet down the street.
---
“How’s the cocoa comin, Tommy? Triple D is gonna start soon,” Mike called from the couch, turning on the small television set. He had just started a fire in the fireplace.
Tomas smiled, picking up the teapot and pouring out two cups of steaming water, “Almost ready, Mike!” He picked up the chopped power of cocoa from his cutting board and slid equal cups into each cup, mixing it in well and whisking them up in his hands. He sat down on the sofa and handed over the cup to his friend, “Wonder where Guy’s gonna be tonight.”
“Not here,” Mike laughed, taking a sip of the cocoa, “This is good, by the way. Swiss Miss ain’t got shit on you.” After a long drink, he put the cup down on the coffee table and spread out the blanket over his and Tomas’ feet to keep them warm on the frigid night.
“So you liked the hike today?” Tomas graciously accepted the blanket and drank from his cup.
It seems like his smile would break his face in half, “It was absolutely gorgeous! I adored it. Thank you for taking me to see the place, Tom!”
“It was my pleasure.”
---
“So how long did you feel this way, Mike?” Matt placed his coffee down on the table.
Mike shifted in his seat, sipping with two hands almost strangling the cardboard container that held the hot liquid to his mouth, “I don’t know to be honest. I mean, I care deeply for Tomas, but I think it started once he started going on these trips…”
“This is only the second time he’s been on a trip for more than a day or two,” Matt chuckled.
Mike blushed, “Shut up.” And then he smiled, “I know Matty.”
“Tom’s gonna be ok, and I think Mike’s there because he needed someone to take care of him. He had a rough time the other day. Probably was the first number on his phone he could reach,” Matt sighed.
“What do you mean he needed someone to take care of him?” Mike looked worried, putting down his drink, his eyebrow cocked skyward.
Matt knew he blew it. If he told Soprano, his nerves would get worse, “Just trouble with the locals. They’re being….punks, lets just say.”
“Ah,” Mike looked down, “I guess its what’s best for the band. I just hope….”
---
“Tomas? Buddy you awake?” Mike sighed, looking over his shoulder after the second episode of Ace of Cakes ended. There was Tomas, squirming, sound asleep. Mike smiled, watching Tomas breathe, his little exhales playing with the blanket beneath his chin, “Awe, aren’t you just too much?”
After no response from the singer, Mike swept his arm around Tomas’ shoulder and pulled his body closer so Tomas could comfortably rest on his shoulder. Afterwards, there was a small yawn, and Mike found himself falling asleep, his head resting on Tomas’.
This was perfect.
