Silent Song

by Ron C. Nieto

  SILENT SONG

  by Ron C. Nieto

  Kindle Edition

  Copyright 2012 Ron C. Nieto

  Edited by The Eyes for Editing

  Cover art by Everything Indie

  License Notes

  This book is a work of fiction. Though some actual cities, towns or locations may be mentioned, they are used in a fictitious manner. Any similarities of characters or names used in this book to any person past, present or future is coincidental.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

  Thank you

  for making this possible

  CHAPTER 1

  Do not look back. It’s absurd! Nothing to see. Just empty streets. There’re no stalkers. There’re only shadows. No one lurks behind me.

  I kept repeating the mantra in my head, wishing I believed it.

  Forcing a deep breath, I told my heart to slow the hell down with as much authority as I could muster, but it didn’t work. My eyes kept darting to the shadows that pooled around the hazy light of the street bulbs, thick enough to hide someone. My ears prickled with the rustling of leaves, loud enough to cover the steps of someone.

  I’m alone. What about the feeling I have of being observed? What about the fingers I feel creeping up my spine? It’s utter nonsense.

  I quickened my strides, just in case.

  No harm in being sensible, right?

  The thought made me snort as soon as it formed in my head, loud like the crack of a whip in the silent night. Yeah, right. Sensibility. If I had any, I wouldn’t have turned down Dave’s offer to take me home. Any other girl with a working brain would have jumped at the chance, not just because of the lift, but also because he was the hotshot.

  What had I done?

  I smiled, told him I just had to walk ten minutes to get home, and set off.

  Alone.

  That had happened fifteen minutes ago.

  Still, I hadn’t lied to Dave. I could make the trip in about that time. I just didn’t mention my detour.

  I lived in a residential area, all straight streets, mowed lawns, and two-story houses painted in white with little gnomes decorating every other garden. In my neighborhood, all lamps worked and the noise from families at dinner and their brats playing in backyards broke the silence. The cozy streets didn’t go on forever, though. As a matter of fact, they were quite short. And at some point, they faded into this. Like the beggar brother of a rich guy, you could tell they both had started off the same before one of them ran out of money.

  Crack!

  The noise made me jump out of my skin. All my efforts to calm down went down the drain as I started to hyperventilate, frozen in place. It took two tries before I convinced myself to look around.

  Nothing to see.

  It was too dark, too eerie. Too many places to skulk around.

  Perhaps indulging in my stupid whims hadn’t been such a cool idea tonight.

  I tensed, ready to bolt as soon as I figured out in which direction. I had heard it, I hadn’t imagined…

  There!

  I swiveled around to face the noise and… cursed, blinked, then laughed like a madwoman.

  It had been a cat.

  A stupid, mangy cat burrowing through a trashcan.

  Great. One of these days, I’m going to jump in fright at my own reflection.

  The thought gave me enough courage to keep walking.

  I crossed another deserted street and frowned at the silence. It suffocated me. And it worried me because it shouldn’t be there. Was I too late? The guys and I had gone to get a coke after the movies, but still. I had been so sure that it could never be too late for my little escapades. I mean, I’d have hitched the ride otherwise.

  I checked the time on my cell, swept the bangs out of my eyes to make sure I was seeing straight, and checked again.

  Boy, it had gotten late.

  Mom will have a field day with me.

  After a moment’s consideration, I started off again, determined to get back to my own area of the neighborhood. Once I’d taken two steps toward safety, the quiet was broken with a single, keening note.

  A long, trembling one followed like a lament and, just when I thought it was impossible to sustain anymore, a furious blur of sound exploded, choking out the sadness of the melody with its hopeful, upbeat rhythm.

  I forgot about hurrying home and let out a long, pleased sigh.

  Scary neighborhood? Impending shouting contest? Aching feet? Who cares? Who could care with this music floating in the air?

  The answer to that one would be “everyone” if I asked my friends. They weren’t around, though, so I made sure, as always, to ignore their opinions on the matter.

  I listened for a moment in total bliss. When the melody snapped out of its crescendo, I scrambled around the skeletal yard of the home the music emanated from, trying my best to be sneaky and to keep out of the light. Quite ridiculous, taking into account my skinny jeans, glittering top and stiletto heels, but way better than to admit my stalking habits.

  While the music played loud enough to hear it from the street, I always felt like a voyeur when I crouched under his window.

  Unseen. Unheard. Listening.

  I closed my eyes. The sound was intimate—soft and beautiful and sad. I always imagined that the notes highlighted the contours of his soul for all to see. Since no one but me paid any attention, I imagined that meant that his innermost self lay bare before me and no one else. The thrill of that thought served me better than any visual image.

  No need to try to peek in, get caught, and die from shame and embarrassment.

  Far easier to lie in wait and imagine.

  After a while, the song didn’t end as any other song would. It exhausted its emotions and died out, like a candle without air, and became flat and unresponsive before it shifted, swelling and starting over again. This time it broadcast a mixture of tenderness, loneliness, and pain.

  I laid my head back against the brick wall and wished, as I did every night, that I comprehended the first thing about music, that I knew what he was doing, that I could unravel his secrets.

  I had been wishing for years, ever since I started taking this detour and stopping in front of his house. From the very beginning, I wished I could know him as I believed I did.

  I never tried to, though. Why bother? Way too complex for a few minutes of understanding every night. And that’s all we’d have, if there ever was such a thing as a “we.”

  I never tried to fool myself. I knew that when he stopped, I’d stand up and go home, and tomorrow I’d forget all about him, about his music.

  In the morning, I’d hang out with Dave and the girls and be ashamed of these moments. I’d vow never to return to his window. I’d laugh, joke, study, and go out and dance and forget.

  But night would come, and I’d be back in the dark neighborhood, stuck to this brick wall.

  I’d remember and go back to wishing.

  Then, everything would start again. Rinse and repeat.

  And I might not be proud of what I did, but I knew that I’d not give it up. Ever.

  CHAPTER 2

  “Aliceee!” As always, the warning scream came after the solid impact of someone bulldozing me from behind.

  Books jostled in my arms and a notebook fell with a rustle. I sighed.

  Same old routine, same old casualties.

  “Hey, Anna.” I nodded in her general direction and bent over to retrieve my things with a cursory glance to the fallen, trampled item. Calculus homework. No great loss.

  Anna planted her fists on her hips, grinning and ready to go into speech mode. I didn’t find out what she wanted to say, though, because all the fun went out of her when I straightened up again and she got a good look
at my face.

  “Damn, girl, you look awful,” she said with a frown.

  “Gee, thanks! I thought we were friends and all?”

  “I’m your friend, but you know I can’t lie to save my life.” This was true. I had seen Anna trying to make up excuses, and it was painful to see. “So, spill. What’s wrong?” She poked my side and my books nearly fell off again.

  “Nothing, really. I didn’t sleep much, that’s all.”

  Actually, I had slept all of four hours. After arriving home the previous night, I’d faced a long, detailed lecture on why I shouldn’t be out at such times… yada yada. I’d tuned it out after the first ten minutes, but it still kept me up for too long. It wasn’t like I could walk out on my parents while they were doing their level best at parenting, after all.

  Of course, she misunderstood my reasons.

  “Dave!” Her voice dropped to a loud whisper that could be heard from the other side of the corridor. “You couldn’t sleep, all caught up thinking about him, right?”

  “Wrong.” I rolled my eyes. “It had nothing to do with him!”

  She laughed. “You mean that you weren’t nervous in the slightest after yesterday night? Did you turn into a statue of stone and ice or something?”

  Okay, that got my attention. I stopped and turned to look at her. A kid bumped me, but I held my ground.

  “What about yesterday night?”

  Anna pulled at her blond ponytail, clear giveaway of nerves if there was one, and gave me a quizzical look, as if I were being dense on purpose. I didn’t budge and she fidgeted with the hem of her T-shirt. When she started talking, she looked everywhere but at me.

  “He didn’t…? But I know he wanted to. Not because he had told me or anything, but it was kind of…”

  “Anna, you’re losing me. He didn’t what?”

  “I thought he would take you home and, you know, say good night or something!” Her eyes blazed as the words tumbled out. “That’s why we all left! I’d not have left you in the parlor like that otherwise, Alice. You know it. I’d have gotten Ray to give you a ride. We just thought it was better to clear the way. He didn’t leave you stranded, did he? That bastard! I hope… I hope someone will scrape his car! No, wait, I’ll do it myself!”

  I had to laugh. Tired and half asleep as I was, and facing an endless lecture on hideous numbers right ahead, it kind of warmed me over to see Anna so worked up on my behalf. She was genuine in her anger, too, and I knew that Dave’s shiny BMW would be all the worse for wear at the end of the day if I didn’t speak up.

  I slung my arm around her shoulders and gave her a grateful half-hug.

  “He did offer. I refused.”

  Silence.

  “What? But, why would you do that?” Her mouth dropped open in shock.

  The bell rang just then and lockers slammed shut everywhere. I waved my fingers in a clean, perfect exit. Later, I mouthed and then turned and let the throng of people put distance between us.

  Later, I knew, she’d forget to ask about it. It made me breathe a little easier. I could lie well enough, but I hated doing that to her… And there was no way in hell I could tell her the truth.

  “No, look, I ditched him because I wanted to drop by an old house that’s falling apart and listen to what the weirdest kid in town was doing, total psycho like. But don’t worry, I’m not dangerous!”

  I could almost picture her face after my confession. She’d think it a joke, but I didn’t want to take risks.

  Dropping the armful of books over a table to the side of my classroom, I snuggled up against the wall, grabbed a pen and struck the pose of the perfect student, ready to take notes and deep in concentration.

  And then, I promptly fell asleep.

  ***

  Physics should be outlawed, along with medieval torture and kid mistreatment.

  I mean, I get that we need engineers and people to man NASA and whatever, but, the rest of us? Why did we have to suffer through those long, long hours of droning lectures, square roots and derivatives?

  I closed my blank notebook and surreptitiously stretched one shoulder. I hadn’t suffered much, just a two-hour long nap that I needed like breathing air, but still. The complaint was a matter of principles.

  Picking up my things, I headed to the lockers to get a change of books and ran straight into Anna. She stood waiting right outside my class, looking winded after having raced from her own end of the building to intercept me. She glowed with triumph when she saw me and I stifled a groan.

  “So,” she started, not willing to let me get through, “why did you turn him down?”

  “I didn’t!”

  “You did! That’s why you ended up going home on foot!”

  I blinked. I hadn’t seen it like that. I had turned down the ride, but him?

  “I needed to clear my head, and I didn’t want to get into a car.” The excuse sounded feeble, even to my own ears.

  “If you needed a clear mind, you should have wiped yours blank while making out with him.”

  I hadn’t even thought about a chaste kiss when I had left Dave the previous night, much less about making out with him. In retrospect, I had been pretty stupid. A picture of Dave could be pinned under Merriam-Webster’s definition of handsome.

  Only problem, he was my smoking-hot friend. Period.

  Anna saw my lost-puppy look. With a sigh, she grabbed my elbow and steered us to our lockers. I dropped my stuff and then we moved arm in arm toward Lit class.

  “You don’t have to like him just because everyone else does,” she said, breaking the silence. “I just thought you did and kind of left you two alone…”

  “Hey, you did what any best friend should. I do like him, too.” I needed to hear that aloud. Maybe then my thick brain would remember it when the next opportunity arose. Maybe then if I said it often enough, loud enough, I’d manage to think of him that way.

  She glanced at me sideways and a small, knowing smile quirked up a corner of her lips. She didn’t buy my claim any more than I did.

  “If you did, you’d have jumped his bones when you got the chance. But never mind,” she added when we arrived and a couple of other girls paid a bit too much attention to us. “Let’s go face our doom now and leave all the dirty gossip for later. The light at the end of the tunnel!”

  I had to laugh at her sudden melodrama. She was such a drama queen. But the thing was, she always knew what to say and I sank down in the chair by her side.

  “It’s not doom; it’s just Hawthorne.”

  “Same difference.” She waved her hand airily and I tried to hold back my chuckles when Mr. Hedford started his lecture.

  I wanted to pay attention, but Anna shoved a pink notebook under my nose after giving my elbow a sharp nudge. I thought we were too old to pass notes around, but that never stopped me from replying to whatever messages I got.

  There’s going to be a party this weekend at Lena’s. You are coming, right? it read in bright pink ink.

  The word are was underlined twice, and Anna had nearly pierced through the page in her insistence.

  I wrote back, yes, and then bit my lip and scratched it out.

  Can’t, I scribbled and passed the notebook back across to her.

  She frowned.

  You’re grounded.

  No question mark. I hesitated and she retrieved the notebook.

  You walked home and you were late and then you got grounded. She pushed the page back to me.

  With her blond, shining hair and wide, innocent eyes, Anna could have fooled anyone, but in truth, she was very observant. And very smart. Which meant that she knew the lounge we’d been at wasn’t far enough from my place to explain my tardiness away.

  I drummed my fingers on the desk while thinking of an excuse that didn’t sound like one: It was a weekday; my folks didn’t want me going out in the first place; a strange alignment of the stars with Uranus precluded me from having a social life… Anything except admitting that I had been crouc
hed in a yard with more mud than grass while the hours slipped by.

  Mud? That’s it!

  Ruined my jacket, I wrote. Mom says it’s because I’m spoiled. For good measure, I lifted my gaze heavenwards when I passed back the note, but the explanation felt likely.

  Anna huffed, but didn’t reply. Me destroying stuff, fashion stuff in particular, was a common enough occurrence that it didn’t pique her curiosity at all.

  As a matter of fact, the best lies, and the best excuses, came with a sprinkle of truth in them. The spoiled comments came up regularly at my place. Mom complained about it more often than Dad. She said that I never valued what I had, that I didn’t know what it was to want something, and that I had to take better care of what I did have because not everything could be replaced. And if either she or Dad had seen my shoes before I took them off at the door to creep up the stairs yesterday night, they’d have grounded me for real on the basis of carelessness.

  The stiletto heels had been caked with mud and one of them had gotten scuffed in the bushes. Later, I had been able to clean them almost back to new, and no one would’ve guessed it looking at them now, but the sight of the shoes right after I had left the yard had been hideous. I sneaked a satisfied peek at them under the table, proud of my work.

  The bell went off right then and I jumped out of my skin, bumping a knee against the table.

  Ouch.

  Someone snickered behind me and I threw a glare in their general direction, just in case. Anna laughed outright, but she was my friend. She had privileges.

  “You can still attend your after-school activities, right?” she asked me on the way to the cafeteria.

  I nodded. “Yeah. It’s just the social life that’s threatened.”

  “Cheer up, then! We’ll just goof around in theater instead of at the ice cream parlor. What’s the difference?”

  “Mr. Hedford!” both of us said in perfect unison before breaking into a fit of giggles.

  He was our theater director as well as our Lit teacher and he would not, under any circumstances, be invited to come to the parlor.

  When we arrived at our lunch table, everyone else already sat there. Seeing Dave’s shock of red hair made me wince and I tried to stop Anna.