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Rated: · Short Story · Death · #1964246
A girl is sittiong in a room with a dieing man. with her guitar
The back of my neck burned in the sun, the skin was already peeling and red. The heat was insane, good old Arizona at its best. I looked up, nothing but the beautiful, open, American blue, sky met my gaze. Sweat trickled down my nose. i squinted my eyes in the swelling sun and looked around. There was no shade anywhere near but the distant crossing highway above the interstate..... No trees, just yellow, dry, grass. Rarely a car would pass.

Every Friday for the last five months i did this. every time after school i would go right up to my small apartment, i would grab my guitar, five bucks, and start walking. i would walk about two miles, down the interstate, usually in the narrow patches of grass that that separated the two sets of lanes. i walk nearly all the way to the over head highway, but then turn right before it. then i went down Herrington, following the old dirt road leading into a lot, far enough back that on a busy day the cars from the highway and interstate could barley be heard, in the lot it left you to the big white three floor building, posted with peeling paint were the words

'East Jakonson Nursing And Caring Home For The Retired'

basically the nursing home where i volunteer.

I only know one song, it only has five chords, yet every Friday am playing for a room of people and their wheelchairs, all smiling, staring, moth agape, confused on how they got there. they come and i sing. I strum the classical guitar i got for two dollars at a yard sale. With its wavered neck, and un-tunable strings. Wood peeling off its body, but to me none of this was a chore. i loved it as much as they did, finding a way to lift the lips that have been so weighed down by long lived lives, of the trash of the past thrown down by the generation of the future. That was my Friday, playing my song for the nursing home, except for Toby of course.

I took a swallow from my dry mouth, grabbed the guitar shoulder strap and pulled it higher up my shoulder. i was sweating even more now, but i wasn't far from my street now. Toby Olkin was an old man somewhere in his 90's. i've seen him only rarely and he dislikes me. when i smile his direction i only get a scowl and the stink eye. the only time i ever see him is in the hallways. he'd be in his wheelchair. an aggravated expression on his face, impatiently bossing around his nurse. he never showed up to the room i preformed in. this didn't disappoint me because i wanted him to hear me, but because i want to see him happy, joyed, smile, and at the moment that was my personal project, always on the back of my mind.

Toby, what it be like to see his smile, to see pure joy fight and win over the grumpy permi frown. i heard a car behind me and turned to look. it was a nice black mini van. in the front seat was an adult about twenty by the looks of it. she had been crying, she was crying. her face was red and she kept playing with her lip, biting it and releasing it, she had a tissue to her nose and used it to wipe under her eyes. in the back was a little toddler putting her face flat against the window, making a funny face, when she saw me she smiled. i just stared.

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" no, no, i have it Terri" i said. i took the sticker out of my jean pocket. it was dirty and filthy on the back, so it wouldn't stick but i have put a clothes pin on it and now pinned it to my denim jacket. it said Christina Jonahove in messy, large, letters. my handwriting.

"of you go then" she was still smiling to her papers as i walked out.

I was walking down the hall, and at one of the assistance desks i found the woman and her toddler. the little girl was jumping up and down trying to see over the counter, her mother was nodding frantically nonstop as the lady gave her directions. i slowed down to watch. after a moment the mother grabbed her child's hand and ran off in the direction the helper pointed. my curiosity got the best of me, i followed, dodging and avoiding wheelchairs trying to keep up. quickly she turned in to one hallway were it became less crowded and loud.... and into a room. i crept up to the door after it shut. and heard voices inside.

" dad!!" it was the woman's voice. there was no reply. i heard sobbing.

" Tobys heart rate is still decreasing" it was a nurse. it was Toby. Tobys daughter and granddaughter. he was..... dyeing. i didn't know what i was doing. i stood up and i walked in. the nurse and daughter both gasped but i didn't move. i walked right in, expressionless. i walked right to the end of his bed. he looked up weakly at me. only his eyes moving, tubes in his nose. his daughter plopped right back down next to him grabbing his hand in both of hers, sobbing.

" d-da- daddy.... t-tell me your ok-k-kay......" she dropped her head onto his arm, heaving heavy sobs. he just weakly looked at her, so pitifully. i didn't know what to do. i didn't know him but i was here. i just stupidly barged in here, because i heard a name. but that name belonged in my head for one reason only. because i wanted to help him, to help him smile. i took out my guitar. i put my fingers in the right spots. and i strummed. the nurse and woman looked at me shocked. i swallowed back everything and did the only thing i knew had to since i was born. i felt. and i sang and i played. they all looked at me astonished but i just sang louder, sang deeper, sang so powerfully, played so hard, i had marked my fingers, i hurt my throat. and i sang louder. everything spun, i could feel the world turning, i know every chord. i didn't think about the lyrics. it all came out. everything from deep into my soul came out, hidden and buried deep inside of me. beautiful pain.

the song ended. i stared down at the daughter. she was starring at me. i was breathing deep shaking. and as i looked into her eyes... tears rolled out of mine. The nurse broke the moment, looking over at the screens.

"h-he's gone" she lowered her head. the daughter flung herself onto the body. she sobbed uncontrollably. insanely, screaming. the nurse reached for something and then the screens shut off. i walked away. i walked out. the little girl was at the doorway. she grabbed my hand.

"is mommy okay? can i see grammpy now???" as she said it her eyes grew big and teared and her hand slipped off mine. she looked at the floor. i cried silently. screaming like her mommy inside my head. bitting my lip. i softy put my hand on top of her head. letting it loosely fall as i walked away. down the hall.

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" you sure your not going to play today?" terri asked me.

" I'm sure." i said.

" hey chris.... i heard you were back there... I'm really sorry.... its not something you want to see."

" it's life, just the harder part." i slung my guitar back over my shoulders and walked away. i knew she was watching me. she would always be watching my back. i pushed open the doors, stepped into the sun and....

" WAIT!!!" I turned around. The daughter of Toby was slowly walking towards me looking down. Twiddling her thumbs, wringing her hands. the sympathy i had for her was so overwhelming,

" i just.... wanted to say...... h-he... i-it..... itwas... hallelujah.. was... his.. favorite.... song..." she looked up with her eyes slightly, at my expression, bitting her lip. i stayed still, expressionless.

"Thank You'" and alone i walked out the door.
© Copyright 2013 Ria Smith (overlordepic at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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