Chapter 8
'keys'
Carry on my wayward son,
for there'll be peace when you are done.
Lay your weary head to rest.
Now don't you cry no more.
It was hard to tear myself away from her and go back home, but I knew it had to be done. What little daylight there had been throughout the day was gone by the time I opened the door and squelched through. I'd spent all day in the rain without even feeling the cold, but now that I was back indoors I could feel the chill start to penetrate. It was time to dry off.
He was just coming out of Sakura's room when I reached the top of the stairs, and he gave me a hunted look.
"Your school called my office. Where have you been?"
I didn't offer a reply, but he didn't wait for one.
"I needed you here. She's a mess." He dropped his voice and nodded his head toward her door. That was when I realized I could hear crying, and I was seized with a sudden misgiving.
"What's wrong?" I asked softly.
"I don't know. She won't talk to me. She keeps asking for you. I need you to talk to her." He was begging me with his eyes, and I remembered, somewhat distantly, our conversation that morning. "Please."
I knew that I should hold back, use this to parley about the shrink, but he looked so desperate. And my sister's soft sobs could not be ignored. I dropped my bag on the floor and pushed her door open.
To my surprise, the lights were off and she was huddled underneath her blankets on the bed. It was so dark that I could barely see her, but the meager light glinted off her tears and I knew she was in a bad way. It takes a lot to break through Sakura's cheer. Mindful of my sodden clothing, I pulled her desk chair up to the side of the bed and sat in it.
"Hey there, short stuff. What's up?"
"On – On – Onii-chan," she managed to get out between cries.
"That's my name." I ruffled her hair as she sat up and pulled her knees to her chest. "What's wrong?"
"I'm scared!"
"Of what?" I glanced around, there were no ghosts in this room tonight. "There's nothing here, I promise."
"I'm scared for Mom," she sniffled, and I sucked my breath in. "Dad said she was in a place called Heaven. But I asked a teacher today where Mom is and she said she was in the ground, with a gravestone. But I've never seen that. And you were yelling at her last night in our kitchen. There are so many places; it's confusing. I think Mom is lost!"
Inwardly I groaned as I looked at her face, barely visible in the dark. She looked genuinely worried that Mom might have lost her way.
"Mom is not lost," I said firmly, trying to allay her fears. She didn't look entirely convinced. "There is no gravestone for Mom. We cremated her."
"Cr-creamed?"
"Cremated," I repeated, then decided not to elaborate on the procedure. "That means we magically turned her body to ash, and scattered it on the wind. Mom wanted it that way. That way she could be free to fly in the air."
She hesitated, trying to understand.
"But Dad said she was in Heaven."
"It's the same," I said awkwardly. I should not be having to explain these things to her, that's what parents are for. But she had insisted on asking me. "Don't worry about what happened to her body. See this?" I took her hand in mine, tickling the palm softly. Her mouth turned up into a slight smile. "It's just skin and bones. It's not the important part of you. The important part is right here." I tapped her on the top of her head. "And here." I placed my hand over her chest. "Those parts go somewhere else when we die. They go to a place called Heaven."
"Where is it? Is it close?"
"Well, yes."
"Then why don't we go there to visit?"
"Um, because people who are still alive can't go there. It's up in the sky, and the people who are there can look down and watch us."
"Oh. Is it nice?"
I was beginning to think she'd never run out of questions.
"Yes."
"How do you know, if you can't ever visit?"
"Because… because Mom would never go to a place that wasn't nice. She would make it beautiful, just by being there."
"Really?"
"Sure. The people who are the most happy and sweet-natured in life have the ability to make their place in Heaven very nice. Mom loved Dad very much, and she was so happy being married to him, that her place in the sky would be extremely beautiful."
She seemed entranced, and nodded. Then a shadow crossed her face.
"But you were yelling at her in the kitchen last night. You said she shouldn't be there. Why was she there instead of Heaven?"
"Um… you."
"Me?"
"Sure. She was just coming by to check on you, and see how fast you're growing. I'm sorry that I yelled. I didn't mean to scare you."
"Then you're not angry with Mom?"
"No," I murmured. "No, not anymore. I don't think anyone could ever stay mad at Mom for very long."
"Good," she sighed. "I wouldn't like it if you were. So Mom is not lost?"
"Not a bit of it. Grown-ups never get lost. You know that."
She did perk up slightly at that, and grabbed my hand to squeeze it with both of hers.
"You're so lucky," she said wistfully. "I wish I could see her too."
I had to swallow at that, and bite back my instinctive response.
"Close your eyes," I instructed, and she obeyed. "Now then. Picture her from the photos. Can you see her?"
She had her eyes squeezed shut and she nodded.
"Now picture her hair waving in the breeze, and her dress floating around her. She has long white wings on her back, longer even than her hair, and she's surrounded by a bright golden light. Can you see all that?"
Again she nodded.
"That's exactly what she looks like. Now you can see her."
"Wow," she whispered, and I chuckled. She was concentrating so hard that she didn't notice when I pushed her back down onto the pillow and drew the blanket up to her chin.
"Sweet dreams, kiddo." I was feeling relaxed enough to drop a kiss on her forehead, and she wrinkled her nose like a joyful bunny at that before I turned and retreated from the room.
Dad had been at the door, listening, and he stepped back quickly when I opened it. I gave him a sullen look as I slipped through and shut it behind me.
"She's going to sleep," I said wearily. "She'll be fine."
"Arigatou," he forced himself to say.
There was a short but pregnant silence.
"I'm not going to therapy. I don't need it."
He pressed his lips together, obviously wanting to argue the point. But he did owe me for what I'd done for Sakura. I gave a volcanic sneeze, and his expression softened.
"Get out of those clothes, Touya-kun. You must be freezing. I'll make you some soup."
I nodded silently and he turned toward the stairs. My hand was on the bathroom door knob when he looked over his shoulder.
"You talked to someone today. Who was it?"
"A friend."
"Who?"
"Just," I said pointedly, "a friend." I escaped into the bathroom and shut the door firmly behind me. My bedraggled self looked back at me from the mirror.
Was it really so obvious that I'd talked to someone? Was he at all close to guessing?
I sneezed again and started to unbutton my shirt. I was too tired to worry about it. I just wanted this day to be over.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Two figures, this time. I squinted in the thick darkness of the night and tried to get a better glimpse. One of them was definitely a female, and definitely not Mom. Her hair was much too short, and yet she did seem familiar somehow. I couldn't make out at all what was flying next to her. It was too small to see, but it looked like some kind of animal.
My unease persisted until I finally woke up. Who was that?
I sniffled as I stared at the ceiling and decided I couldn't make myself care. My nose was stuffy and I fumbled for the box of kleenex on my desk.
Except I don't keep kleenex on the desk. Where did this come from?
I blew my nose and sat up, realizing how quiet it was. My alarm clock wasn't ringing, and I couldn't hear Dad moving around in the kitchen downstairs. The only sound was that eternal November rain beating against the window.
"Ten o'clock?" I said aloud, upon examining my clock. "You're kidding."
Dad had left a note by the kleenex, saying he'd already called the school to tell them I was sick, and that I should just take it easy. I made a face at the thought of spending the day in bed, but to get up and go to class was out of the question. I was exhausted, both emotionally and physically, from yesterday.
Taking the kleenex with me, I stumbled downstairs to make a cup of hot tea. He'd left the box out and a mug on the counter.
"Damn it, Dad," I muttered aloud to the kitchen. "Stop being so perfect all the time. It's annoying."
I made the tea anyway, inhaling the steam gratefully. I felt terrible. Of course, it was my own fault for wandering around in the rain all day yesterday like I had. As Kaho would say, one must accept responsibility.
And strength? What about that? Do we have a choice about that?
I wasn't sure, and I drained the last of my tea before standing up again. It was strange how quiet the house was. I wasn't used to being here alone. I padded upstairs in my tiger slippers before coming to a stop outside Dad's door.
I hadn't been in there once since we moved in, but I knew it was in there. He would never get rid of it, and it was nowhere else in the house, so it had to be in there. The door creaked as I pushed it open, but I went no further than the doorway. It was right there, against the wall by the door, the faint light gleaming on its oily wooden surface.
"Don't pout like that, Touya. A sulky frown doesn't make anyone happy."
"Why did she have to come? We were fine without her."
"Of course we were fine, sweetie, but now we're even better. Don't you think it will be fun to have a baby sister?"
"No."
"But just look at her. Isn't she cute?" Mom made a little kissy face, and the baby squealed with delight and waved her chubby hands in the air.
"I don't like cute." Mom laughed at that, then took my hand and held it close to Sakura's. The baby grasped at one of my fingers and tugged, squeezing with surprising strength.
"Feel that?"
"Yeah."
"She's holding onto you because she trusts you. She's going to depend on you to help her learn and grow when she's older. Isn't it exciting that she thinks you're so strong?"
I shrugged nonchalantly.
"I guess. But it's still not the same."
"No, Touya, it's not the same. It's never going to be the same. But now things can be fun in a different sort of way."
I broke free of Sakura's grasp and jammed my hands in my pockets.
"I never see you anymore. You're always busy with the baby."
"Well, she's so little and helpless. She could get hurt if I leave her alone."
"Hmph."
"Would you like to spend more time with me, Touya? I could teach you how to do something that Sakura can't. It would be something special, just between the two of us."
I was intrigued, but unwilling to commit just yet.
"What is it?"
"I'll show you." She picked up the baby and led me into the front room, putting her down in her pen before leading me to the organ in the corner.
"Are you going to play it?"
"No, sweetie. You are."
That surprised me, and I watched her leaf through her sheet music, searching for an easy song.
"But I don't know how."
"No one knows how to do anything until they learn," she pointed out. "This is something Sakura can't do. And your poor father definitely can't do it. But I bet you could."
"Why?"
"Because you are very smart and coordinated, and because I think you can. Here, look at this. Do you see those black dots with the long legs pointing upwards? Those are called quarter notes, like the fractions in your math class. Each one will add up to make one whole beat."
I couldn't help myself; I leaned forward to get a better look. Math had always been my favorite, and it never occurred to me that it had anything to do with music.
"The one without a leg?"
"A half note. It's like two notes with legs combined into one."
"What about those hollow ones?"
"That's the simplest one. It is just one beat. See how it's the only mark in that section? That's because there can never be more than one whole beat in any section. It doesn't matter how you split it up, but there can only be one. Each section is called a measure."
"I get it." I traced my fingertips along the pages, then looked down at the rows of keys in front of us. "But how do you know which to press?"
"It's like a secret code," she said mysteriously, and I perked up. "If a note is on the first line, then you press this one." She demonstrated, and Sakura gurgled at the soft chime. "If it's the first space, then it's this one." She moved all the way up the scale, then sat back. "Now you try."
Tentatively, I pressed each key as I recited the letters aloud.
"Very good. Now all you have to do is press the right key in the order the page says it, for the right length of time, and a song will come out. It's not very easy to do right away, but we'll practice together while Daddy's at work." She scrunched up her nose in delight, and tapped her finger on the tip of my nose. "Won't it be fun?"
"It was more than fun," I murmured. I pressed my palm against the wood. Unlike the rest of the house, it was warm underneath my touch. Even though I knew Dad never touched it, there wasn't a speck of dust to be seen. "It was special. Just the two of us."
The answering quiet of the house beckoned me, but I wasn't ready to go there, not yet. I hadn't touched so much as a single key since her death. How could I do it without her by my side? It wasn't the same.
So maybe a person can refuse to be strong. I left Dad's bedroom and retreated into mine, collapsing on the bed. I was so tired. All I wanted to do was rest.
- - - - - - -
When I woke up again, it was early afternoon. I felt much better, too restless to sit inside anymore. The weather hadn't improved any, but I pulled on some jeans and a hooded sweatshirt, grabbing my jacket and umbrella before leaving the house. There was no rain just now, but stratus clouds pressed low overhead, dark and heavy with the potential of it. Or sleet. I shivered as a cold gust blew, and rubbed my arms for warmth. Now that I was outside, I couldn't think where I needed to go. I only knew that I needed to get away from the quiet.
"Never thought I'd say that," I muttered, and my feet started moving. It wasn't long before I was standing in front of my school. As I watched, the final bell rang and students began to spill out from the doors. No one was inclined to linger very long, upon seeing the sky, and they scattered. After waiting for the crowd to dissipate, I made my way through the doors and down the halls. I could feel her in the building, and her alertness to my presence. I did not pause to wait for her but continued onward, until I was standing in the music room.
No practice today, I guess. It had completely emptied, and there was no sign of the instructor. I traced a finger along the top of the wooden upright piano, hauntingly similar to that instrument that I had learned on.
I'm so tired, I complained. So tired of being different, tired of being haunted. Why did it have to be me?
She stood in the doorway and didn't answer.
She makes things so difficult, coming around to visit, teasing me. I thought I was supposed to try and get over her.
Maybe she was trying to show you that it's all right to move on, even if you can see the past, she offered. It's okay to remember her and smile at the same time.
To remember and smile. It hadn't occurred to me that it was possible to do both. I thought I had to be grieving if I was staring at her ghost.
At that moment, a tingle of excitement went through me. A funny feeling of anticipation. Like something was about to happen.
I met her gaze, but she said nothing. She was waiting.
It's going to be hard to go back.
She nodded, and I became aware of how I was slipping my jacket off my shoulders. It hit the floor with a soft sigh. A song was beginning in my mind.
Is that what this is? Moving on? Is this what was supposed to happen four and a half years ago?
Hesitantly I brushed my fingertips over the keys' worn surface. They were almost humming under my touch as I slid onto the bench. And then I could bear it no longer, but began to play. It was so quick, the jump from utter silence to music, I couldn't help but be startled. Music, bright and fast, filled the room around us, and I watched my hands like they belonged to someone else. Is this really me, Kinomoto Touya, playing again?
The song was fun. I liked it a lot. Why did I spend four years telling myself I couldn't do this? I'd been stuck, this whole time, stuck in a phase of mourning that I refused to escape. I couldn't stay in that place anymore. I had to let go. It was time to move on.
Kaho surprised me by singing the words to the chorus.
"Carry on my wayward son," she sang sweetly, in perfect pitch. "… don't you cry no more."
My hands came to a stop, and I realized I was breathing hard. I had broken out into a cold sweat, and I wiped my brow with my sleeve.
That was hard.
Yes.
I can't believe how hard that was.
She was seating herself on the bench next to me, facing away from the piano.
But you did it. You are strong, after all. The strong one in the family.
She looked so happy for me, and I felt my chest swelling with pride. I had proved it: to her, to the piano, and to me. I was capable of coping and moving on. If I could play the piano, I could handle seeing her ghost. I was strong.
I was kissing her by the time that thought completed itself. I kissed passionately, intensely, my hormones stimulated from my victory. It didn't matter that we were no longer in the privacy of the shrine, but right in the middle of the school. She certainly didn't care. She pushed up to meet me in the force of the kiss, and guided my hands over her blouse. Her lips were moving in a line along my jaw up to my ear, directing my mouth ever downwards.
I hesitated in surprise, but she didn't hold back.
It's okay I want you to.
I didn't wait for her to change her mind but pressed her up against the keys. There was a harsh and discordant sound that we both ignored as I traced my tongue down her neck and began to unbutton her blouse.
- - - - - - -
It was verging on dark by the time I got back home, and the first flakes of sleet were beginning to fall.
"Onii-chan!" Sakura yipped as I kicked off my shoes. Dad looked up from the stove.
"There you are. I thought I told you to stay home and rest today."
"I did. I just decided to go for a walk." He narrowed his eyes a little as he studied my face.
I flushed a little under his gaze and wiped my mouth, even though I knew Kaho didn't wear lipstick.
"I wanted to bring you a flower," Sakura said, blithely unaware of the slight tension. "But there aren't any right now. So I made this for you in art class." Proudly she displayed a crayon sketch of a bright red blossom. "Do… you like it?"
I rewarded her with a small smile, and she beamed.
"It's beautiful. Arigatou, Sakura."
"Are you all better now?"
"I think so, yes." I took her drawing and ruffled her pigtails. "I'll be able to walk to school with you tomorrow."
"Goody!"
My smile grew as I turned toward the stairs.
"I'll just go put this upstairs, Dad. I'll be right back down."
He waited just a second longer than he should have before replying.
"That's fine."
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Disclaimer: I do not own these characters
Music: Wayward Son – Kansas