Laramie
04-12-08, 08:22 AM
(Solo)
Everything must come to an end. And someday it's gonna be your turn. Even
the world's gotta end sometime. Everybody leaves at one time or another. And
everyone gets left also. That's just fate... It's sad, but there's nothing
that can be done about it.
Laramie exhaled, and rubbed the dwindling butt of his cigarette into the hardpan earth he was lying upon. He watched his smoky breath wind further up, through the canopy of fresh pine, until the rough wind that rustled the treetops blew and expanded the concentrated smoke until it was gone. The sky was sleepy and overcast; the sun was tucked away under the feathery comfort of rain clouds, and only faintly glowed, making the day dark even though it couldn't have been past noon.
I hate this.
He was in a bad mood. Fishing was out of the question if it was going to rain. He was hungry and cold, and an hour from home. He had been thinking about leaving for about a week, and had apparently picked a bad day to do it. He thought only briefly of his father, and how by now he must be awake and possibly aware his son was not at home. More important to Laramie were his thought of her. Of his only reason to stay at home, and why it wasn't a good enough reason for him not to leave. It started to rain, but he hardly noticed the scarce drops that made it through the thick canopy above. Laramie was in another place and time entirely.
************************************************** *******
4 years ago
"Play me a song! It's been too long since I've heard you sing!"
"I just barely got home, Sara. Gimme a minute to take me boots off, willya?"
And with a flash of dirty blonde hair, she turned and had a seat. Laramie's father worked an hour longer at the docks than he did, and Sara waited at home for him every day after her school let out. She was one of the few kids left in town who took the coach to school in the morning. She was going to be something someday. Yet here she was, sitting in Laramie's two-room flat waiting for him to take off his oily work boots so she could hear him play the old grand piano he kept in the corner of his room.
Clunk. He tugged a boot off and dropped it to the left of the doorway he was standing in, and looked up.
She seemed never to look away from him; her green eyes were always smiling, even if her mouth wasn't. She was unusually tan, given the terrible weather in their town. She was rarely sad, and always funny. She said nothing, and just sat on his bed, watching him. She was quiet in all the right times.
Clunk. Off went the other boot, and he threw himself face down on his bed next to her, and pretended to snore.
"Scrub! No you don't!"
'Scrub' had been their name for each other since the day they met. It seemed to be both of their ideas simultaneously. He thought of that day then, and how she had been playing football with the boys to give even teams. Laramie sat on a swing and watched as she laughed and tousled hair, and the sun made her hair shiny.
"OW!"
She dug her fingers in between his ribs and started tickling. He was ticklish beyond the capacity of a normal human, and she alone knew it.
"Play me a song already! I've been waiting for hevurr!"
She stressed the last word and stuck her lip out at him. She knew how to play him about as well as he knew how to play his battered piano. And for some reason it didn't bug him.
"Awright, alriight! You've pretty much heard of 'em all, though. Which one do you want me to play?"
She rolled her her maddeningly beautiful, pale eyes.
"Oh jeez, play me something new already! I had the most boring day."
He twisted his back left, then right, and winced as it popped. As he got up, he pushed her off the bed with a playful nudge.
"Nyah, scrub! I just thought of this one today."
He ducked as she threw his feather pillow at him, and almost tripped over his boots before settling down on the cracked piano bench. He knew the second he put his fingers to the keys she wouldn't bug him. It was the benefit of being the only person in town who could play piano. Laramie rubbed his eyes for a second, and then started to play the most surprisingly beautiful song of his life.
It felt like water that had just begun to freeze, when it reached his ears. It was smooth and cold, and regretful, and as he moved up and down each octave, the pauses between each run became more fluid and uneven. His left hand kept a steady eighth note low part that was full of a somber warmth, as his right plucked a chilling single note melody. The chords grew stronger and louder as the climax of then song began. His left hand broke out in a 32nd note run up and down the E scale as his right hand pounded with careful precision at haunting minor chords until he reached a fermata, which he used to stretch out his fingers as his left foot held down on the damper pedal. The song came back in with a slow refrain, that led into three soft, mellow chords as the bottom part built up notes for a grand major B chord. Laramie held down the damper and soft pedals, and closed his eyes as he relished the last note as it faded into quietness. There was silence, and then:
"Laramie..."
He felt her warm fingers move down his shoulders as she hugged him from behind. He didn't move, even though he felt like he was melting into her embrace. He could feel her breath ruffle the hair on the nape of his neck, and savored how it tingled, how warm she was. He turned around, still sitting, and hugged her back. Their cheeks were touching, and he couldn't stop his face from turning toward hers. He could see her pale green eyes, and he felt insane and calm all at once. His lips moved to say the most important thing he had ever said, and then-
BAM!
The front door slammed shut. Dad was home. Sara's face jerked back as cold steel cords wrapped themselves around Laramie's insides.
"Laramie, yer lady friend's gotta leave now! We've got work ta do on me truck, didja forget? Tell 'er ta get dressed if she ain't!"
Laramie clapped his hand to his forehead. She was already up and leaving, walking backwards and waving at him.
"Thanks for the song."
He smiled. He couldn't help it.
"Will I see ya tomorrow?"
She bit her lip and thought, still slowly moving away.
"We'll see."
"Be safe on your way home."
"Right."
She stuck out her tongue at him as she winked, and then she was gone.
************************************************** *******
It was still raining. Laramie shuddered as he huddled against a tree, while grabbing his knees. He fumbled a spare cigarette out of his shirt picket and lit it with a spark from a match that he popped with his thumbnail. He took a sharp drag and held it as he tried not to think of the days not long past. He gave up and exhaled. She was still on his mind, even if she wasn't anywhere else.
What do you do? Have you lost your way? When that happens we each have to take a
good look at our hearts. There's always something forgotten. Remember it...
Whatever that is, must certainly be what you are looking for...
Everything must come to an end. And someday it's gonna be your turn. Even
the world's gotta end sometime. Everybody leaves at one time or another. And
everyone gets left also. That's just fate... It's sad, but there's nothing
that can be done about it.
Laramie exhaled, and rubbed the dwindling butt of his cigarette into the hardpan earth he was lying upon. He watched his smoky breath wind further up, through the canopy of fresh pine, until the rough wind that rustled the treetops blew and expanded the concentrated smoke until it was gone. The sky was sleepy and overcast; the sun was tucked away under the feathery comfort of rain clouds, and only faintly glowed, making the day dark even though it couldn't have been past noon.
I hate this.
He was in a bad mood. Fishing was out of the question if it was going to rain. He was hungry and cold, and an hour from home. He had been thinking about leaving for about a week, and had apparently picked a bad day to do it. He thought only briefly of his father, and how by now he must be awake and possibly aware his son was not at home. More important to Laramie were his thought of her. Of his only reason to stay at home, and why it wasn't a good enough reason for him not to leave. It started to rain, but he hardly noticed the scarce drops that made it through the thick canopy above. Laramie was in another place and time entirely.
************************************************** *******
4 years ago
"Play me a song! It's been too long since I've heard you sing!"
"I just barely got home, Sara. Gimme a minute to take me boots off, willya?"
And with a flash of dirty blonde hair, she turned and had a seat. Laramie's father worked an hour longer at the docks than he did, and Sara waited at home for him every day after her school let out. She was one of the few kids left in town who took the coach to school in the morning. She was going to be something someday. Yet here she was, sitting in Laramie's two-room flat waiting for him to take off his oily work boots so she could hear him play the old grand piano he kept in the corner of his room.
Clunk. He tugged a boot off and dropped it to the left of the doorway he was standing in, and looked up.
She seemed never to look away from him; her green eyes were always smiling, even if her mouth wasn't. She was unusually tan, given the terrible weather in their town. She was rarely sad, and always funny. She said nothing, and just sat on his bed, watching him. She was quiet in all the right times.
Clunk. Off went the other boot, and he threw himself face down on his bed next to her, and pretended to snore.
"Scrub! No you don't!"
'Scrub' had been their name for each other since the day they met. It seemed to be both of their ideas simultaneously. He thought of that day then, and how she had been playing football with the boys to give even teams. Laramie sat on a swing and watched as she laughed and tousled hair, and the sun made her hair shiny.
"OW!"
She dug her fingers in between his ribs and started tickling. He was ticklish beyond the capacity of a normal human, and she alone knew it.
"Play me a song already! I've been waiting for hevurr!"
She stressed the last word and stuck her lip out at him. She knew how to play him about as well as he knew how to play his battered piano. And for some reason it didn't bug him.
"Awright, alriight! You've pretty much heard of 'em all, though. Which one do you want me to play?"
She rolled her her maddeningly beautiful, pale eyes.
"Oh jeez, play me something new already! I had the most boring day."
He twisted his back left, then right, and winced as it popped. As he got up, he pushed her off the bed with a playful nudge.
"Nyah, scrub! I just thought of this one today."
He ducked as she threw his feather pillow at him, and almost tripped over his boots before settling down on the cracked piano bench. He knew the second he put his fingers to the keys she wouldn't bug him. It was the benefit of being the only person in town who could play piano. Laramie rubbed his eyes for a second, and then started to play the most surprisingly beautiful song of his life.
It felt like water that had just begun to freeze, when it reached his ears. It was smooth and cold, and regretful, and as he moved up and down each octave, the pauses between each run became more fluid and uneven. His left hand kept a steady eighth note low part that was full of a somber warmth, as his right plucked a chilling single note melody. The chords grew stronger and louder as the climax of then song began. His left hand broke out in a 32nd note run up and down the E scale as his right hand pounded with careful precision at haunting minor chords until he reached a fermata, which he used to stretch out his fingers as his left foot held down on the damper pedal. The song came back in with a slow refrain, that led into three soft, mellow chords as the bottom part built up notes for a grand major B chord. Laramie held down the damper and soft pedals, and closed his eyes as he relished the last note as it faded into quietness. There was silence, and then:
"Laramie..."
He felt her warm fingers move down his shoulders as she hugged him from behind. He didn't move, even though he felt like he was melting into her embrace. He could feel her breath ruffle the hair on the nape of his neck, and savored how it tingled, how warm she was. He turned around, still sitting, and hugged her back. Their cheeks were touching, and he couldn't stop his face from turning toward hers. He could see her pale green eyes, and he felt insane and calm all at once. His lips moved to say the most important thing he had ever said, and then-
BAM!
The front door slammed shut. Dad was home. Sara's face jerked back as cold steel cords wrapped themselves around Laramie's insides.
"Laramie, yer lady friend's gotta leave now! We've got work ta do on me truck, didja forget? Tell 'er ta get dressed if she ain't!"
Laramie clapped his hand to his forehead. She was already up and leaving, walking backwards and waving at him.
"Thanks for the song."
He smiled. He couldn't help it.
"Will I see ya tomorrow?"
She bit her lip and thought, still slowly moving away.
"We'll see."
"Be safe on your way home."
"Right."
She stuck out her tongue at him as she winked, and then she was gone.
************************************************** *******
It was still raining. Laramie shuddered as he huddled against a tree, while grabbing his knees. He fumbled a spare cigarette out of his shirt picket and lit it with a spark from a match that he popped with his thumbnail. He took a sharp drag and held it as he tried not to think of the days not long past. He gave up and exhaled. She was still on his mind, even if she wasn't anywhere else.
What do you do? Have you lost your way? When that happens we each have to take a
good look at our hearts. There's always something forgotten. Remember it...
Whatever that is, must certainly be what you are looking for...