**I'm only doing a collection of SHORT STORIES**
I would like people to post their comments and thought about them. If anyone likes the first one, I will write more.If no one likes the first one… Well… I guess I will remove you and enjoy.
Her Ivory Keys – September 2, 1956
I was lost in a maze of dark streets and depressing buildings. It was pouring rain. Not sharp little drops, but the fat heavy ones that splatter loudly when they hit pavement. I was forced to use my suit jacket as a small shelter while I ran around looking for an open store or apartment building that I could dive into and wait out the night. I guess I looked pretty suspicious. I was a middle-aged man running around at odd hours in the night. My eyes lit up when I saw a little pub with the lights on.
The scene is dreary when I walked up to the doors; a small bar that sat on the dark and rainy corner of a nameless avenue. The club looked like a small sleazy place and it smell wasn't too pleasant or convincing either. It was odd little place that dealt with cheap liquor and even cheaper people. But, the warm and welcoming golden light that shone through the fogged windows proved that it was both inhabited and heated. I pushed through the heavy wooden doors and found myself in a cheery setting. Only a few people remained in the deserted pub, probably drinking their troubles away. "Hello friend! Nice to see a new face!" A voice called to me from across the bar. I walked up to the counter and sat down on a small red leather swivel-stool. The man who owned that voice was a rather happy looking 5'6 bartender. He had a large gut and a round friendly face with lively grey teal eyes. He wore an oversized apron over a white button-down shirt. He had a towel slung over his shoulder and a damp brow. I smiled at him, returning the greeting. "Sorry, I had to get inside. It's raining cats and dogs out there."
"It's been stormin' for a while now. How did you get to a rundown place like this anyway?"
Come to think of it, I couldn't remember how I got in this area. "I-I don't know…"
"Its all good. Say, what's your name. I'm Rich. Rich Tavline." Rich held out his meaty hand.
"Maxwell Webb." I shook his hand. His hard grip squeezed my hand and left my hand damp.
"Can I get you anything Mr. Webb? Something to eat? Maybe a drink? I got scotch, brandy, vodka…" His kind voice trailed off.
"A glass of whiskey. Any kind. No ice. P-please."
Rich nodded and set a clean glass on the counter and filled it half way with the golden liquid. I took a sip and let the alcohol warm me from the inside. I looked around; the place wasn't half bad. It was evenly decorated with small wooden tables and chairs. Each table had a napkin dispenser and a salt and pepper shakers. A menu hung above the counter, but I wasn't hungry enough to read them. A small penny juke box sat by the double doors but no one had turned it on. I noticed that two of the few people were asleep at tables; their hands flopped over the sides and either a bottle of booze next to them or several empty shot glasses. "Say, you have a piano!"
It was a beautiful white ivory piano with back and gold detail that ran along its polished sides. It was a beauty. "Mind if I play it? It has been ages since I've even sat at one." I gave Rich the same look a pleading schoolboy would give his mother. Rich laughed. "Go ahead. I've never heard a sound from that piano in a good 10 years."
I jumped out of my stool and into the bench of the piano. I rested my hands on the keys, but before I could even hit a key a hand rested on mine. It was a dainty hand with shiny red painted nails. The hand of a woman. I looked to my right and there she was; long and silky scarlet hair, rosy cheeks, strawberry red lips, enchanting black eyes, a long black gown, and a million dollar smile. I was at a loss for words and heard myself ramble like a fool. She laughed quietly. "I see you were brave enough to step up and play. But do you know how?" Her voice was like a velvet robe; soft and very comfortable.
"I-I…. Erm… Y-yeah… K-kinda…" I stuttered, my cheeks growing hotter.
"I guess I will teach you a few things." She chuckled. She scooted me aside and began to play. Her melody was charming but sorrowful. I found myself in a trance as I watched her thin fingers dance across the ivory keys. She then stopped, looked at me, and smiled. "Place your hands on the keys. You will know what to do." I did as instructed, setting my hands on the lower keys while she did the same to the higher ones. The notes played in my head and I suddenly knew what I was doing. We began playing together. A duet made in classical heaven. The woman finally removed her hands away from the keys and I did the same after noticing. "That's one of my favorite pieces. I wrote it myself."
She looked at me with her onyx eyes and leaned in, gently kissing me on the cheek. My face flushed with red and my shook slightly, I was paralyzed. "See? Playin' isn't so hard." She smiled and stood up, and before I could ask her to play with me again, she had left. "Hey, I thought you were gonna play somethin'." Rich had spoken up from behind the counter. I had completely forgotten him.
"O-oh..? Oh! Yeah… I just played… With the help of a woman."
"Woman? I didn't see any woman next to you. Heck, no one even came in! You've just been sitting there starin' at the keys."
"But… She sat next to me… We played together. It was beautiful."
"Listen, Mr. Webb, maybe you should be getting home. It's pretty late and I think that drink went to straight to your head. The mind can do funny things when a man is drunk."
"I'm not drunk! I can describe her! She had long red hair, a flawless face, and black dress! She sat next to me, I swear. I heard the music, she even got me on the cheek!" I placed my hand over the place where she had kissed me. It was rather cold for some reason.
"Listen kid. The only flawless redhead I've known to enter this joint was named Emmy Ghomer. And she's been dead a little over 10 years. She was a sweet thing. As poor as a church mouse, but she didn't mind. The meaner the person, the nicer she was. I've never seen or heard anyone play like she used to. Butn I know her ghost ain't haunin' my piano. I think you should get along now."
"Wait… A picture. Do you have a picture?" I looked at Rich who pointed to the wall behind him. On that wall was a photo of a younger Rich and a beautiful woman. She had her hair done up like the girl who sat with me, she had the same dress, even the same smile. They were so similar… And it was because they were the same person. Emmy Ghomer had just kissed me on the cheek. A broad who has been dead for 10 years just taught me piano. I was at a loss for words. I blinked and stood there silently like an idiot. I backed up slowly and hit the door.
"Say, if you ever want to come back, Mr. Webb, I will keep her ivory keys polished for you and Emmy." Rich chuckled as I ran out the door and into the rain. The beautiful and haunting melody I can only know as "Her Ivory Keys". I could hear it, loud and clear, from the back of my mind. I ran for my life down the slippery streets, not bothering to call for help. I know that they would just call me crazy.