Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.
Piano Girl
Most of the people that come in to play the piano at the hospital aren't that good, at least to Gale's very untrained ears. They play stuff that sounds on par with elevator music, unoriginal and coma inducing.
They're only volunteers, people that come in to try to brighten the dull entry to the hospital with their playing, even if Gale thinks they make it sound a bit more ominous with each tune they hammer out.
It's a chilly day in the fall the first time he hears something worthwhile coming from the battered looking thing.
He's taking IV poles to the emergency department then has to take a newly admitted patient to their room, distributing equipment and transporting patients just like his job title says he's supposed to. It's not a bad job, most of the others in his department are in school too, so the scheduler works around their classes, and the pay isn't terrible, better than anything else a college student can find. Other than having to move complete nut cases from place to place, he could do worse.
He's only a few feet from the back elevator when he hears it.
'Sweet Child O'Mine'. Guns 'N Roses.
He knows he needs to get to the ED, but he has to see if the hospital has sprung for a new player piano or something, none of the regulars are this good or play anything that was written after the War of 1812.
Guns 'N Roses was an old band, but not that old.
When he peaks around the corner a girl is at the piano. All he can see is of her is a messy ponytail and a dowdy looking brown sweater that keeps falling down her shoulders. She's very into the song, head nodding and shoulders jerking with each note. Her fingers are hitting each key so fast Gale is barely able to see them, they're flittering, graceful and eager and the ease of it comes through in the song.
When the song finishes and she moves on to another piece, without shuffling a mess of straggling papers like the others, Gale remembers he has work to do. Reluctantly, he pushes the elevator button again and gets on when the doors slide open, his ears straining to catch the last few notes from her he can.
##########################
Once a week she comes, Tuesdays from eleven to thirteen hundred, for the lunch crowd. Gale trades anytime there's a need to go to the entrance on those days, takes more patients out the front exit, goes that way no matter where in the hospital he's delivering supplies to.
And it's worth it.
She doesn't just play Guns 'N Roses, but Aerosmith, The Beatles, and Lynyrd Skynyrd along with a few he can't quite place.
And she's fantastic.
Granted he's no expert, anything but, she's good though. Her music has something all the others lack, and despite Thom's teasing, no, it isn't a 'hot body'.
Gale likes when he gets to go past her, gets to see the look of concentration on her delicate features while she plays. She's pretty, even though she dresses a bit plainly, doesn't wear much make up that he can see, he still thinks she's pretty.
He feels a little like a stalker, planning his one of his work days around her schedule, but he quells that thought by telling himself she's an artist, possibly a great musician someday, and he's just an early groupie of sorts.
"Why don't you just talk to her?" Thom asks him one day, after his seventh trip to the entrance.
He would've, but he'd seen her getting in a car one day, a BMW. She was obviously a rich girl, she's close to his age so there's no way she could've afforded a car like that on her own. It wasn't the nicest one he'd ever seen, not as old as his truck, but an older model, the kind affluent parents buy their spoiled kids thinking they'll teach them some humility.
You get an old car, but it's still costs more than all your classmates' cars combined.
He tries to use that as a reason to dislike her, but it doesn't work.
She just seems so unfailingly sweet.
He'd see her leave and she would chat with the old ladies at the volunteer desk, smile, and once or twice he'd seen her bring them cookies. She took requests, he'd heard her playing Disney songs, more than once, for visiting families.
Someone who was a snob wouldn't do those things would they?
When mid-December rolls around, classes end for the semester, Gale doesn't expects to see her again, probably off to ski in Aspen or some other fancy place.
So when Tuesday comes he avoids the entrance, he hates the thought of someone else playing some lame song in her place. His Tuesday gets drearier by the minute.
He's just dropped several compression stocking off on the seventh floor and is planning on taking his lunch when he hears a soft little voice coming from around the corner. She runs into him with the wheelchair, bangs into his shin with the foot rests.
"Damn!"
Gale jumps back, grabbing his leg and hopping away from the source of his injury. This is just one more wonderful moment in his shit day.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!"
He looks up, is about to tell the soft voiced girl she needs to watch where she's going, but his snarl dies on his lips when he sees her.
She's in another plain looking cardigan, a heavier looking skirt, and a pair of tall boots. Her hair is in its usual messy ponytail and her expression is in a grimace, hand over her mouth.
Gale feels his mouth flop open, what were the chances? Wasn't she gone for the break?
"Are you okay?"
Before he can get his brain to formulate any words, Piano girl has rushed to him, is kneeling beside him and trying to inspect his surly scraped and bruised shin.
"I'm not a very good driver," she tells him as he straightens up.
It's the first time he's seen her up close and he takes the undoubtedly only opportunity to get a better look at her.
He hadn't been able to tell from a distance, but she has blue eyes. She bites her bottom lip and he notices a little scar. The ribbon in her hair is blue today, has some kind of pattern on it, pandas or something childish, and he remembers a boy who'd requested 'Let It Go' giving it to her months ago.
Gale grimaces, "I noticed." He looks over the top of her head, not too hard, she's fairly short, and sees an old woman sitting in the wheelchair. "You taking your grandmother somewhere?"
Her nose wrinkles as she works out what he says before she shakes her head, "Oh no, she isn't my grandmother. I'm just helping her find a room."
The old lady winks at Gale and he almost laughs. He has a way with the older ladies.
His attention turns back to Piano girl, "Oh, uh, where you going?"
The lady says something, but it's so garbled he can't make it out. Piano girl seems to understand her though. "She's here for 2025. I'm a bit lost though."
That's pretty apparent. 2025 is right up the front elevator, near the entrance, where the piano is and where the old lady had come in probably. Piano girl had taken her clear across the hospital campus.
"I can see that," he gives her a little smile. "I'll get both of you back where you need to be."
Taking control of the wheelchair, he isn't about to let her drive it again, Gale begins leading them back in the right direction.
"I thought you were sick or something," Piano girl says suddenly, as they take a corner much more cautiously than she had earlier.
"Huh?" Very articulate, Gale. Win her over with your wit.
A little smile flickers up on her face, "I play the piano down in the lobby, at the main entrance, and normally I see you quite a bit, but I didn't see you at all today. I was a little worried."
He almost rolls over a wet floor sign. She'd noticed him, during all his months of watching her, she'd noticed him. He isn't sure if he should be happy or embarrassed.
Since she doesn't seem to associate his higher than average time in the entrance lobby with being a creep, he decides he can be happy.
"Oh, I just didn't get sent there today."
She nods and then is quiet again as they snake their way through the halls toward their destination.
"I'm Madge, by the way," she tells him suddenly.
"I'm Gale," he points to his badge with his terrible picture from two years prior. He'd had a buzz cut back then, a bad post high school hair choice, and he keeps trying to get the lady in HR to let him redo the ID photo.
The old lady must feel that their having some kind of introduction, or maybe she just feels left out, because she mumbles something Gale can't place, but it sounds like her name.
"Nice to meet you ma'am," he tells her. He must've guessed right because she turns in the chair and gives him another wink.
Madge stuffs her hands in her pockets, pulls her little sweater closer around her body.
Not wanting to let the conversation die at their names, he may not get to talk to her again, Gale gives her a little smile, "I like your playing."
Did that even make sense?He's pretty sure there's a better word for playing the piano than 'playing', maybe 'conduct'? No that's not right…
It doesn't matter though, she lights up, "Really? Thank you!"
He nods, "Yeah, you're the only one that plays, uh, not crappy stuff."
I'm so suave.
Madge snorts, "You like classic rock then?" She sighs, "The hospital administration nearly made me stop, said this wasn't the place for it. Then a couple of the oncology patients turned in letters saying I was their favorite pianist so they let me keep it up." Her mouth curls up, "My Poppa was in the hospital last year, before he went home of hospice, and he always hated that they didn't play anything upbeat. So when I started college I picked a day to come up here and play, kind of as a tribute."
A fierce blush creeps up on her face when she notices Gale staring at her. She presses the backs of her hands to her cheeks.
"And you didn't really want to know any of that." The grimace comes back to her face, "I'm sorry, I babble sometimes."
He's noticed. Normally it would bother him, he listens to crazy patients tell him their life stories all day so he doesn't want to hear anyone else's really, but after months of wondering what she was like, he's happy she's babbling to him.
"Don't worry about it," he chuckles. "I'm glad they let you keep playing what you wanted. I like it."
They finally make it to 2025 and Gale pushes the old lady in where she's greeted by a wild eyes man. They're both laughing at something only they understand when Gale quickly exits.
Madge is still standing outside the door, back to the wall across from the room, when Gale emerges.
"Old people," he mutters to himself.
She laughs, her smile brightens, "Aw! They're cute."
Until they start throwing feces at you.
Her lip is between her teeth again, "So…do you think you can walk meout? I get lost easily. Everytime I was with my Poppa we ended up in the strangest places when I pushed the wheelchair."
Gale is all too happy to get to spend a few more minutes with her. "Sure."
They go down the elevator, the staff one, he probably isn't supposed to take her on it, but it's quieter and there are more chances to talk on it.
"So…you staying here for the break?"
Madge nods, "Yeah, I live here."
He swallows, can feel his Adam's apple bob, "Oh, yeah."
It gets a little too quiet, he suddenly regrets taking the staff elevator.
"You work every Tuesday?" She asks, her wide blue eyes fixed on him.
"Every Tuesday and Thursday."
The bell dings and the doors open. Gale leads her down the back hall and up to the entrance lobby.
Her eyes flicker down, a little shyly, "Well, maybe next week, when I finish playing, we can go get lunch or something…"
Gale's heart, which had been racing with the proximity to her, comes to a sudden but pleasant stop. His mouth spits out a yes at the same moment his mind forms the thought.
"I-That would be great."
Her cheeks go pink, "Really?"
"My lunch is at one so that would be perfect," Gale tells her. His face hurts from grinning.
The apples of Madge's cheeks are crimson as they push up to her eyes. "It's a date then."
She stumbles as she walks out, turns with an embarrassed grin to wave goodbye. Gale raises his hand, gives her a little wave and hopes she doesn't fall in the parking lot.
When he sees her get in her car, it's in definite need of a wash from all the salt on the roads the District had put out when the ice had come, he backs up, heads back to the dispatch room.
He reaches out and taps a few off-key notes on the piano as he passes by.
His Tuesday had just gotten a lot brighter, and the next one looked to be even better.