-1-

My fingers quickly glided over the smooth ivory keys and I closed my eyes as I played the all too familiar Einaudi melody. It was my favorite piece, Le Onde. The selection was one of the first I had played at my childhood concerts, it became my go to song. The door was wide open and the sound flooded through the entire house.

My mind began to wander and I began to play the quieter harmony,I got into the main when section my fingers paused and my body went stiff. 

I had heard something unfamiliar. 

I held my breath to make the room as quiet as possible to make sure I wasn’t hearing things. There was nothing but silence.

Mr. Fierro’s home was big and old, it was probably still settling. I continued where I left off, scolding myself for stopping in the middle.  I repeated the section when I heard the sound again. This time it was loud and clear.

A cough.

I pushed the piano stool away, walked out of the room and peeked into the  main parlor. Mr. Fierro was sitting on the couch reading one of his books with a cup of coffee. To the normal person he would have looked fine but, I noticed a button out of place at the top of his dress shirt.

“Mr .Fierro ?,” 

“Why have you stopped playing ?,” he asked sternly.

 “Were you coughing ? ,” I continued

He returned to his book like he wasn’t going to answer me at all.

“Yes. I was clearing my throat. Now please, Ms. Delune. Leave me to my studies.”

I did as he asked and retreated back to my place at the piano but, the coughing fit continued at regular intervals through the day.

*** 

-2-

In the evening, Emile arrived back home from his trip to Bordeaux. He went to  the library there to inquire about some research materials for the book he and Mr. Fierro were working on. I decided to approach Emile while he was sitting on the front porch watching Kayla ride up and down the street on a bike Ms. Ginger had dug up for her.

 As he sat on the front porch, with his sleeves rolled up, watching the girl, Emile seemed to be laughing at the wind.

I leaned at the doorway and watched him watch her , not sure how to phrase what I wanted to tell him.

“My, my Clara do you ever look happy ?,” he asked, when he noticed me standing behind him.

“Well, my house did just burn down and  I am dead--,”

“Alright,  guess not,” Emile sighed.,” Where is the Scrabble board ? Aren’t we long overdue for a game ?”

“Maybe later,” I said.

He seemed a little disappointed but, didn’t let it show too much. Our Scrabble games had become increasingly competitive. I was pulling out words like recitative and he was still convincing me a quintain was something people actually used in medieval times.

 

We sat in silence for a while watching Kayla.  She wasn’t the most proficient bike rider.  She was reluctant to take off the dress shoes she had arrived in. They were the first pair of heeled shoes her mother had brought her.  The block heel made her feet were shaky on the pedals. Kayla made it up and down the street once before she veered off course and hit the ground, the bicycle tumbling on top of her.

An “Oh” escaped my lips and I headed over to check on her. Before I could move, Emile gently took my arm and held me back.

 Kayla stayed where she was trapped beneath the rather large red bike. She reminded me off one of my students and I was ready to shake out of Emile’s grasp when Kayla began to move. She picked herself up and then the bike. She stared at it like she was going to toss thew bike aside before getting back on and riding up the street again. When she had made a successful turn on the bike, she turned towards Emile and I with a smile.

Emile returned her smile with a nod.

“You can’t always help, Clara,” he mused.” She got back on the bike because she wanted to not because we told her. Sometimes, you have to wait and let people make their own decisions and not coddle them . . . even with children.”

I didn't entirely agree but, found his comment a good segue. 

“Speaking of which,” I said,” The reason I came out here is because I need to tell you something.  I think Mr. Fierro is sick.”

“Why ? Does Fierro look . . . pale ?,” Emile asked as sly grin on his face.

“Emile.” I scolded him

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry that was awful.  It is wonderful of you to care for him Clara but, we all know what Fierro will say. It is no business of ours.”

I wanted to disagree with the 'I care for him' phrase but, I nodded my head in agreement.  Mr.Fierro could be very cold but, there were times when the coldness faded and I saw a person who I could befriend.  

Kayla had ridden her bike up to the front porch to meet us.

“Ms. Clara, will you ride your bike with me ?,” She asked.

I saw my bike tossed in my front yard—one of the few things to survives the fire.

“I don’t know if my bicycle is still in good shape,” I said.

Before I could finish the sentence, Emile had run across the street and retrieved the bike. Getting on the seat he began to go in some wobbly circles.

“Come on Ms.Clara, let’s go for a ride with Ms.Kayla,” he pleaded.

I hesitantly walked over and Emile helped me hoist myself on the handlebars. Emile began to ride slowly down Litany Lane with Kayla following behind us. Soon, Emile began to pedal much faster--- despite my protests and Kayla followed after. After a while I stopped worrying about falling off and  joined in on Kayla and Emile's laughter.  

The three of us rode around Litany Lane into the night, never really leaving the shadow of the old Victorian home.

.

*** 

The next few weeks, I ignored the continuing coughs  but, they  only seemed to get worse. 

One morning I  awoke to a silent house. Usually I could hear Mr.Fierro typing or going around the house in the morning. I got out of bed and  peeked into his immaculate bedroom to see  Mr.Fierro still in bed shirtless. A layer of sweat on his skin.

“Mr.Fierro-,”

His coughs interrupted me.

“Bring me some water,” He ordered. His voice was raspier than usual.

Although Illia was really the maid I consented and put a glass under the tap. As I handed him the glass his fingers seemed to linger on mine longer than needed.

“Thank you,Ms. Delune.” He said

“No problem. Do you--

“I do not like having you in here,” he said.

“You--,”

“I said leave,”

I retreated closing the door behind me. He was still keeping me at just an arm’s length

His sickness continued for the week and I finally had to corner Emile. It was weighing on both of us. While Mr. Fierro cannot die he was suffering and we were suffering with him.

“I believe Fierro is in pain of some kind," Emile agreed,  " For good measure I say we get him medical attention.”

“A doctor ? There are doctors here ?,”

“Well, they are more like apothecaries. They mostly give out drugs since no one has a life threatening illness. The nearest one is pretty far of in Will’s End.”

“Will Mr.Fierro go ?”

“ I don’t know. We interviewed the doctor for a project and Mr.Fierro seemed to like him.  Should  I proposition Fierro with our request ?,”

 I nodded my head.

Maybe it was their past relationship but, it seemed to work and Emile told me Mr.Fierro was willing to go and see this doctor .

We set out for Will’s End that afternoon. Although I could tell he was suffering, Mr.Fierro was still fully dressed in a tie and all. Emile took the driver’s seat,  I was in the back and Mr.Fierro was in the passenger side reading a book.

“I still believe this is very unnecessary,” Mr.Fierro added as we pulled off.

The man was visibly shaking, thin red lines covered his blue eyes and tear stains were evident on his face. 

I just sat quietly hoping he would never even notice I was there. I had no real reason to be going on this just trip. I was just a piano player. I had no reason to leave the house but, the curiosity off seeing more of Nightfall called to me.

Emile drove silently through Litany Village and down a country path with  vibrant grass growing on both sides. It was beautiful,  I wished I could stop and capture the moment but, anyone I would share it with was already here. The path went on for  quite a while and soon it seemed we were the only ones on the road.

We finally  turned down a main road into a village that looked very similar to ours. The village was not very crowded and the shops all had open windows and doors.

Emile turned into a neighborhood of simple one story wooden homes with colorful plantation doors. The homes were built with the foundation elevated off the ground.  Most of the  homes in the neighborhood were boarded up but, a few were decorated and had landscaped yards. We pulled into the drive way of a house outfitted with bright orange accents on the doors and windows.

When we got out of the car, a familiar scent hit me--the scent of the ocean. It was followed by the sound of waves crashing in the distance.

“Is there a beach here ?,” I asked

“Yes,” Emile said,” It is a few blocks behind the house.”

Before we made it the door I heard heavy breathing and saw Mr. Fierro was leaning against the vehicle near passed out.

An older man opened the house door and came towards us.

“Dr. Holiday,” Emile said.

“Emile. Fierro,” He greeted them quickly,”And you must be Clara.”

“Yes,”  I said.

Dr. Holiday took Mr.  Fierro’s arm and Emile took the other and they half carried him into the house.

-3-

Dr. Holiday immediately put Mr. Fierro on an IV of drugs in his spare room and for the first time Mr. Fierro looked truly young.  He had removed his jacket, tie and his hair was pushed back off his face. I stayed by his side while Emile and Dr. Holiday were catching up over coffee in the living room. We were left sitting in silence.

“I’m sorry I don’t have a Casio,” I said to him.

“What is that ?,” Mr. Fierro asked

“Nothing.” I said.

“As soon as I am done with these antibiotics we are leaving,” he said.”This was a waste of time.”

“You are looking better,” I said.” And isn’t it interesting that a person here can get sick. I’m sure that is good for your book.”

“I think I'd like to be alone.” He said.

I consented to his request and wandered out into the living room where Dr. Holiday and Emile had been talking only to find the men were gone. I peeked into  the backyard and they weren’t there either but, I could see the ocean.  I slid the backdoor open and went across the yard and toward the beach.

The beach was deserted but, the foot prints in the sand told me that people did come to this beach. The light brown sand seemed to stretch on for miles and miles. I walked closer to the water and let my feet get wet at the very edge of where the waves broke. I heard some water splashing and looked to see a woman was standing a few feet away from me.

She had gone a bit farther in the water than I had, water pooling to her ankles. She looked around my age and had long auburn hair braided down her back. She was dressed more appropriate for the beach than me, with a black and white halter top and cargo shorts on. The woman opened her mouth and spoke but, I could not make out the sounds. I went closer to her.

“I’m sorry ?,” I said.

“Where does this ocean go ?,” she asked me.

I looked out and began to wonder the same thing. The ocean had to go somewhere, it had to end somewhere.

“I don’t know.” I said,” This is my first time here.”

“Mine too,” she said, ”It just seems to go on forever. I was thinking maybe our real lives are on the other side if we can get across or something.”

“I don’t know,” I said but, I doubted it.

“This is better than the beaches in North Carolina.” she said,” Much nicer.”

“You should see the beaches in Hawaii. The water is clear blue and the sand is pure white,”

“Really ?,” she said.

I nodded my head.

“I guess I regret never getting out more,” She said to herself. “Well, nice meeting you, I should go.”

“ I should probably be going to,” I admitted.

We headed back towards the homes in silence, not really walking together or apart.

“Oh not again.” She sighed as we walked into the neighborhood,” It seems my neighbor has brought a friend.”

I saw she was pointing to the house across from Dr. Holliday’s. The house was boarded up and the front lawn looked like it needed some care. Emile and Dr. Holliday were standing on the front porch of the house.

She ran barefoot towards the house and began to fiddle with the lock.

“I’d really like you to meet my friend--,” Dr. Holliday began but, before he could finish she undid the lock and  disappeared into the house, slamming the door.

After some knocking , the two men left the house and came back towards me.

“Let’s check on Fierro,” Emile suggested.

I followed them into the house.

“My new neighbor is just a bit shy,” Dr. Holliday said to me.

"She seems nice," I said,"She talked to me on the beach."

"Excellent." He smiled.

The IV bag was empty and Mr. Fierro seemed to be recovering fine. The red under hues were returning to his face and Mr. Fierro was more than ready to go. As t Dr. Holliday went to dispose of the IV bag, I helped Mr. Fierro get his things together.

“What was that commotion ?,” he asked as he put his jacket back on.

“Something about Dr. Holliday’s neighbor,”  I answered.

“ I don’t know why they even bother,” he muttered under his breath.

“Not everyone ignores the girl across the street,” I said.

“These people are better left alone. It is what they want after all.” He said

“These people ?,”

Fierro paused.

“Yes. The residents  here are not always happy to still be alive. Everyone in Will’s End committed suicide.”

“That is so strange that they all end up in the same place.”

“Not. . . really,” he said.

“So, Dr. Holliday killed himself ?,”

“Apparently you don’t know about the insurance fraud he ran in the 70’s. He was facing life in jail. Some of the suicides like Holiday will adjust to a new life and embrace it but, most of them retreat and pretend like they don't exist. Most of these people just want to be left alone."

“Loneliness leads to nothing good, only detachment," I said, "And sometimes the people who most need to reach out are the people least capable of it." 

Mr. Fierro seemed to be pondering my point.

“Interesting,” was all he said.

“More Joss Whedon,” I informed him.

-4-

After some dinner on the beach, we thanked Dr. Halliday and got back into the car. To head back home this time. It was dark so, Mr. Fierro couldn’t read his book anymore. Being near the ocean must have affected me because I was feeling tired. I leaned my head against the window as we headed down the path. I decided to  let my eyes rest.

I was drifting in and out of  sleep but, I was sure I heard Mr. Fierro and Emile talking in the front seat.

“Emile, I’ve been thinking," Fierro said.

“About what ?,” Emile asked.

"Of getting a bicycle.”