A Sharp Command Breaks The Silence
A man in a leather jacket strides across the patterned carpet of the hotel lobby. He moves toward the piano where an older man sits with his hands resting on the keys.
The man in the leather jacket leans forward, his hands pressing down onto the piano lid. He speaks, his voice cutting through the quiet of the late-night lobby.
The pianist looks up, his posture steady as he keeps his hands poised over the keys. He does not pull back or retreat from the direct gaze of the man looming over him.
The Weight Of A Memory
The pianist slowly places a hand on the leather-clad man’s shoulder. He begins to speak about his routine of nineteen years, his fingers remaining near the ivory keys.
As he continues, the man in the leather jacket shifts his weight. He pulls his hands away from the piano and crosses his arms tightly across his chest.
The pianist lowers his head slightly, his gaze fixed on the keys as he describes the final song his brother heard in a hospital in Saigon. He recounts the setting, the field hospital, and the final moments of his brother’s life.
The man in the leather jacket watches him, his chin dropping toward his chest. He stands motionless, the rhythm of his breathing changing as the story unfolds.
The Quiet Connection
The pianist pauses, then softly mentions that his own father had served in Vietnam. He describes how his father would hum a melody just like the one he is playing now.
The man in the leather jacket lets out a shallow breath. He reaches out, pulling a chair closer to the piano to sit beside the man playing.
His movements are deliberate and slow. He sits down, his arms relaxing from their crossed position, and watches the musician’s hands move across the keys.
The pianist plays on, the melody lingering in the space between them. The leather-jacketed man rests his hands on his knees, his gaze tracking the movement of the musician’s fingers.
They sit side by side in the dim light of the lobby. The pianist continues the song, the notes echoing against the dark wood of the piano while the other man listens, his head bowed slightly in thought.
A Shared Understanding
The music flows through the lobby, filling the corners where shadows rest. The pianist turns his head slightly toward his companion, speaking of how the music travels.
The man in the leather jacket remains still, his face turned toward the piano. He listens intently as the final notes drift through the air, the sound settling into the quiet room.
He shifts his position on the stool, his focus never leaving the pianist’s hands. The song reaches its conclusion, and the musician lifts his hands from the keys, leaving the room in a heavy, quiet stillness.
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