The Pianist
Chapter One
Chapter One
For a long moment we simply stared at each other, the pole still in her hands, completely soaked with rain, which was now down pouring. When I was finally able to breathe without having to clutch my stomach in pain, I stopped leaning against the wall and took a tentative step towards the girl. She slowly backed away, her eyes darted to the right, looking about like she wanted to escape.
“Thank you,” I said in a raspy voice, result of being punched so hard. I slithered out of my jacket and reached out to put it around her bare shoulders, but she raised her pole.
I held up my hands in surrender. “You’re cold and wet, don’t you want a jacket? Least I can offer after pretty much saving my life.”
She stared at me for another long moment then slowly started to relax, eventually dropping the pole on the ground. With a smile, I wrapped the jacket around her. She crossed her arms, clutching the jacket closer to her.
“Can we get out of here?” Her voice was more beautiful than I had ever imagined it would be. She looked warily at the man unconscious at our feet.
I nodded. “Yeah.”
She stepped around me, walking quickly out of the alley a few steps behind me. I could make out her profile in my peripherals, but I understood why she wanted to keep me in her full vision.
Only a few minutes later we were in my home, sitting in my kitchen at the table. Her arms were crossed and she stared at the wood intensely, still shaking. I stood and went to my room, grabbing a pair of sweatpants that would probably be pretty loose on her and a tee shirt. I handed them to her with a smile.
“The bathroom is the second door on the left.”
She looked at me warily for a moment then picked up the clothes and shuffled into the hall. When I heard the bathroom door close and lock, I made my way to the laundry room, throwing my bath robe into the dryer for a few seconds. I heard the girl reenter the kitchen and sit down at the table, not making any other sound. I grabbed my robe, entering the kitchen and coming to a stop a few steps away from her. Slowly, so she had a chance to say no, I put the robe around her shoulders. She shuddered and clutched the warm fabric to her body. A smile formed my lips.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
I nodded. “Of course.” I then went about cooking dinner, a hot steaming pot of chili will do. The girl watched me as I put the ingredients together, not saying a word or really, even moving. She just sat there, curled up in that chair and watched. I never imagined the Pianist being so... emotionless.
Once the chili was done, I put some in two bowls, placing one and a cup of water in front of the girl. She waited until I was settled before picking up her spoon and taking a bite. The look of surprised joy washed over her face the instant it touched her tongue and she went for another bite, and another and another. She was done before I was half way finished.
“That was very good,” she said, looking up sheepishly at me. “May I have more?”
I grinned. “Of course.” I took her bowl and filled it up, she gladly ate it all. We finished our bowls at about the same time and I stood to wash them in the sink. She was now standing and roaming my kitchen, studying all the pictures I had put on my fridge. She pointed to one of me and an older woman dressed in our fall jackets and scarves, arms around each other’s shoulders and grinning at the camera.
“Who is this woman?” The girl asked. “She is beautiful.”
“That’s my mom,” I said.
The girl looked at me with wonder. “What’s her name? What’s she like?”
I wondered why she was curious about my mother, but I answered her questions anyway. “Her name is Dorris. She’s the best mom in the world. She’s honest and kind to everyone. And her cookies are the best.”
The girl grinned at me, looking back at the picture. A look of longing came into her eyes and her smile slowly faded. Suddenly, she straightened, pulling my robe closer to her body.
“Would you like to get a little bit more comfortable?” I asked, gesturing towards my small living room couch.
Without a word she sat down and curled up on the end of the couch. I turned on the TV to some random cartoon show and sat at a safe distance from her. The girl looked around the room, seeing the many stacked bookshelves, more photos of me and my mom, a guitar leaning against a small piano in the corner.
“You play Piano?” She asked in a small voice, staring at me with intense blue eyes.
I shrugged. “Not as good as you.”
She blushed. “How do you... wait. You’re that boy.” She turned, her whole body facing me now, realization all over her face. “You’re the one that was always there, at my concerts.”
I was completely shocked. She knew about me? She was able to recognize me? “U-um, yeah. You’re the only reason I go to that theater.”
The girl beamed. “Really?” And then she blushed some more. “I mean, that’s, um, sweet.” She smiled softly. “I’m Aria.” She held out her hand in which I grasped in a firm hold. It was soft and fit perfectly within my own.
“Ethan,” I whispered in awe.
For a long moment we simply stared at each other, the pole still in her hands, completely soaked with rain, which was now down pouring. When I was finally able to breathe without having to clutch my stomach in pain, I stopped leaning against the wall and took a tentative step towards the girl. She slowly backed away, her eyes darted to the right, looking about like she wanted to escape.
“Thank you,” I said in a raspy voice, result of being punched so hard. I slithered out of my jacket and reached out to put it around her bare shoulders, but she raised her pole.
I held up my hands in surrender. “You’re cold and wet, don’t you want a jacket? Least I can offer after pretty much saving my life.”
She stared at me for another long moment then slowly started to relax, eventually dropping the pole on the ground. With a smile, I wrapped the jacket around her. She crossed her arms, clutching the jacket closer to her.
“Can we get out of here?” Her voice was more beautiful than I had ever imagined it would be. She looked warily at the man unconscious at our feet.
I nodded. “Yeah.”
She stepped around me, walking quickly out of the alley a few steps behind me. I could make out her profile in my peripherals, but I understood why she wanted to keep me in her full vision.
Only a few minutes later we were in my home, sitting in my kitchen at the table. Her arms were crossed and she stared at the wood intensely, still shaking. I stood and went to my room, grabbing a pair of sweatpants that would probably be pretty loose on her and a tee shirt. I handed them to her with a smile.
“The bathroom is the second door on the left.”
She looked at me warily for a moment then picked up the clothes and shuffled into the hall. When I heard the bathroom door close and lock, I made my way to the laundry room, throwing my bath robe into the dryer for a few seconds. I heard the girl reenter the kitchen and sit down at the table, not making any other sound. I grabbed my robe, entering the kitchen and coming to a stop a few steps away from her. Slowly, so she had a chance to say no, I put the robe around her shoulders. She shuddered and clutched the warm fabric to her body. A smile formed my lips.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
I nodded. “Of course.” I then went about cooking dinner, a hot steaming pot of chili will do. The girl watched me as I put the ingredients together, not saying a word or really, even moving. She just sat there, curled up in that chair and watched. I never imagined the Pianist being so... emotionless.
Once the chili was done, I put some in two bowls, placing one and a cup of water in front of the girl. She waited until I was settled before picking up her spoon and taking a bite. The look of surprised joy washed over her face the instant it touched her tongue and she went for another bite, and another and another. She was done before I was half way finished.
“That was very good,” she said, looking up sheepishly at me. “May I have more?”
I grinned. “Of course.” I took her bowl and filled it up, she gladly ate it all. We finished our bowls at about the same time and I stood to wash them in the sink. She was now standing and roaming my kitchen, studying all the pictures I had put on my fridge. She pointed to one of me and an older woman dressed in our fall jackets and scarves, arms around each other’s shoulders and grinning at the camera.
“Who is this woman?” The girl asked. “She is beautiful.”
“That’s my mom,” I said.
The girl looked at me with wonder. “What’s her name? What’s she like?”
I wondered why she was curious about my mother, but I answered her questions anyway. “Her name is Dorris. She’s the best mom in the world. She’s honest and kind to everyone. And her cookies are the best.”
The girl grinned at me, looking back at the picture. A look of longing came into her eyes and her smile slowly faded. Suddenly, she straightened, pulling my robe closer to her body.
“Would you like to get a little bit more comfortable?” I asked, gesturing towards my small living room couch.
Without a word she sat down and curled up on the end of the couch. I turned on the TV to some random cartoon show and sat at a safe distance from her. The girl looked around the room, seeing the many stacked bookshelves, more photos of me and my mom, a guitar leaning against a small piano in the corner.
“You play Piano?” She asked in a small voice, staring at me with intense blue eyes.
I shrugged. “Not as good as you.”
She blushed. “How do you... wait. You’re that boy.” She turned, her whole body facing me now, realization all over her face. “You’re the one that was always there, at my concerts.”
I was completely shocked. She knew about me? She was able to recognize me? “U-um, yeah. You’re the only reason I go to that theater.”
The girl beamed. “Really?” And then she blushed some more. “I mean, that’s, um, sweet.” She smiled softly. “I’m Aria.” She held out her hand in which I grasped in a firm hold. It was soft and fit perfectly within my own.
“Ethan,” I whispered in awe.