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the_musikid
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Name: keith Country: United States State: Texas Gender: Male
Interests: music: singing, playing, composing, theory of, history of. Expertise: mischief. Occupation: always a student
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Member Since:
8/31/2003
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13. WATER AND LIGHT.
It was quite awkard to chuckle there, at that moment. But how could he not? It seemed to arbitrary, he thought, how we measure time.
Seconds go by only at the tick of our watches, not any slower. Hours last as long as our lunch meetings will allow. We torture ourselves, staring blankly into the faces of strangers, smiling at oppurtune moments - all the while wishing time could go faster, but only at that moment.
"But the escape," he once told someone, "the escape lies in music."
There was silence as he continued to smile. He kept his head down, and though his posture was seemingly relaxed, under the black tuxedo, every muscle in his body felt the tension of suspended time - a giant rubber band stretched concisely to its limit.
But it was beautiful, and had to be maintained. Now? No...no... just a little while longer. He could feel the eyeballs searing a hole into the back of his neck. The crowd before him watched intently, but he did not look at them.
He only stared straight down, perhaps through, the music stand levelled at his waist...waiting.
"We are all there", he thought, as he looked at the symbol on his page.
Perhaps humanity is merely the raindrop, suspended under that protecting umbrella, the sky. And we're floating there, waiting to die, waiting to truely exist.
He gave one last chuckle at the thought of the newspaper's criticisms of his slow tempi the next morning, and as a single drop of sweat fell onto his score, he inhaled deeply, and gave the downbeat of the next measure.
*** The trek back to the elevator seemed shorter than the way we came. Jon and I followed Dadeson silently through the concrete passageways. The sound of our footsteps echoed before and behind us as we walked and made the occassional turn left or right. We hopped over puddles of water that had collected where the ground was unlevel. Apparently some of the rain from the storm had found its way down here. I looked up. The ceiling was lower than I had expected. The hanging lights in the ceiling flickered on and off. The basement passageways reminded me of a sort of claustrophobic bomb shelter, and I suddenly remembered how I had been trapped in the small, dark corridor on the second floor of the music building earlier that night. I shuddered.
Had the university installed this in case of a disaster, or war? We passed another artery of the tunnel. I wonder where it led...
The lights flickered again. The three of us came to a halt. Jon stood behind me. He was very close. I could tell he was afraid.
"Damn electricity," Dadeson swore.
And the lights came back on. We advanced.
"I keep tellin' them boys they need to rewire the whole circuit down here." Dadeson said, I'm assuming to himself.
I felt relieved when we arrived at the familiar elevator a few minutes later. We got on, and Dadeson pressed a button labeled "G."
***
Somewhere above ground, the man in the tuxedo grew more tense. For the third time, the darkness lasted longer than a flicker. And the players before him grew nervous. What had caused it?
Nevermind that. It was over, the lights were back on, the orchestra back together and the crowd behind him had settled. Boy, it had given everyone quite a start. He hoped that it wouldn't happen again. They were more than halfway to the end. Almost there.
"Let's just hope it doesn't happen again," he said under his breath. He cued the timpani as more sweat poured from his brow.
***
"It's still going on?" I asked as Dadeson, Jon and I resurfaced in the foyer by way of the small elevator. "The concert. I thought it would be over by now."
"Yeah," Mumbled Dadeson. "You know Larry. Good of a man as he is, everything's just too damn slow. He's famous for how long his concerts last."
And with that we swept through the foyer and onto a familiar hallway.
"Which one is it, kid?" He asked.
"Huh?" Jon and I both replied. We looked at each other, perhaps mistakingly. It was the first time I had heard him speak since he yelled at me down underground. He quickly looked away. He was still clearly upset.
"Which locker was it again?" Dadeson asked impatiently.
"Oh, 168. I'll take you there."
"Hurry up, we're running out of time." He added.
I quickened my step, almost breaking out into a run as I neared the Maestro's Office.
"Here it is!" I called out, and motioned them over. I bent down and opened the locker, indicating the nothingness inside.
"So this is it, eh?" Dadeson asked.
"Yep, 168 just like it said on the -"
For a particle of a second I felt light headed. Something wasn't right. I felt as if we weren't standing in the right place. Something seemed very odd. Had the hallway grown a few feet? We should have been closer to Maestro's office...right?
"...On the?" Dadeson asked. "Keith?"
"Yes..right. On the thing. The paper. With the numb- the combination."
"Oh..yes, this." He produced the small, now dried, paper from his pocket. "You dropped it upstairs as well." He smirked.
I returned the smile courteously.
"It just doesn't make sense," I said as Dadeson handed me the small wrinkled piece of paper. "Was someone watching me? Just waiting for me to place my things in here? Or-"
"And this is the combination Daniel Larsen gave you?" Opening and closing nearby lockers that hadn't been assigned. These did not have locks on them yet.
"Yes!" I responded.
"You're sure..."
"Of course I'm sure! I- it's HIS handwriting!"
I indicated the blotchy chicken-scratch written under the school logo.
Meanwhile Jon was standing completely still at the nearby window and was staring outside. He must have been really upset that I had gotten him dragged into this mess.
"This can't be right..." Dadeson said, taking my focus off of my friend. He raised his eyebrows, ran his fingers through his greasy hair, and let out a sigh - as if suddenly this had become very real to him.
"I told you!" I said leaning against the wall of lockers. "Larsen has to be the only person to know what happened."
"Keith." He said my name very slowly. "You cannot go around blaming faculty members of this school!"
"Yeah? Why not, huh? You've met Larsen, haven't you? You tell me this, doesn't he seem a bit 'odd' to you? Huh?" Dadeson continued to search the empty lockers. I slammed the door of number 134 in his face. "Look me in the eye and tell me that there's just something off about him, that something's not quite right!"
We stared at each other for a moment. I had gotten very close to him and was breathing very hard. He was Goliath compared to me, but I held my position, even if it hurt the back of my neck to look him in the face.
"Some nerve you've got, Keith." He turned away from me and bent down, proceeding to open and close a group of unassigned lockers on the bottom row near number 168.
"Yeah, I'm surprising myself." I said lowering my voice. "And speaking of something not quite right..." I cast a quick glance over to Jon. He was still frozen at the window. I motioned for Dadeson to step away.
We turned our backs to him and I began to whisper.
"...Be honest with me," I said. "Why is he here? Why'd you keep him? Don't you believe him?" I asked.
"Don't you?"
I fell silent.
"Of course...I do."
"Do you really?"
"That isn't the question! I...I need an objective view of the situation. You've probably more experience in things like this than I have." I said, satisfied with this statement, as it relieved me from confronting my true feelings on Jon's innocence.
"You're right. And you want my two cents, kid? Here it is. Your friend is more likely to have anything to do with this than Larsen. Let's face it. Larsen, strange as he is, has a family and steady job - why would he have anything against you?"
I groaned.
"Go ahead, ask yourself," He said. "Would Larsen have reason to hurt you in anyway?" I shook my head. "Would Jon?"
Suddenly I realized that I still doubted Jon. He was no more innocent than Larsen. Hell, no one was innocent, not even Flora, the Janitor.
"I just...I don't know what to do." I said.
"Well whatever you decide, you'd better act fast, or this will have to wait until morning." He indicated his watch. "It's almost nine, and building closes at ten. So we've got a little over an hour."
"Could we check Larsen's office, please?" Dadeson nodded.
"Let's go Jon. We're going upstairs." He called. We took a few steps in the direction of the stairs before we noticed that Jon was not following us. We turned to find him still standing, frozen, in front of the window.
"Jon!" Dadeson called to him. But Jon did not react.
We walked over to him.
"Jon? What's going on-" The air escaped my lungs as I turned to face the window through which Jon had been staring. "Oh my..."
"Holy..." Dadeson exclaimed as we all witnessed the scene before us.
Across the street a powerline had fallen on a nearby parked car. The electrical wires danced and lashed on the smashed vehicle and the surrounding concrete, throwing sparks of light and shards of glass. The rain was coming down harder than ever. There was no lightining, and no thunder. Just the roar of the storm - the sound of water upon water as the raging river spilled over the banks of the flooded street and crept up to the base of the very window through which we looked.
Dadeson pulled at my arm.
"Let's get this over with."
We backed away slowly, and preceeded up the nearby flight of stairs, commenting on how we couldn't believe the scene across the street, and how bad the weather was getting. Before we reached the top, however, the lights in the stairwell flickered on and off. We paused. And then continued on in silence, neither one of us admitting to the other that we feared the worst part of this storm was not over yet.
*** 14. THE CLUE.
The door to the administrative suite did not creak as opened and closed. It only closed shut with a click, and we were in. Larsen's office was immediately to the right, and my eyes were for a moment coated in darkness before Dadeson unlocked the door and opened it. And a familiar blue light spilled out into the hallway and we stepped in.
It was once again as cluttered as before. The wall of computers facing the doorway were busying themselves trying to reboot and recover files from the short blackout that had occurred just minutes before.
"Watch out for the - " I tried to warn Dadeson and Jon, but it was too late. A pile of hardware had already gone down. Jon bent down to recover it.
Dadeson advanced to Larsen's desk turned on the desk lamp. I stood back near the doorway.
"Would you get that light for me Keith?" He asked. I flicked on the nearby switch. Dadeson proceeded to rummage through drawers while I nervously opened and closed file cabinets. Jon decided to rearrange the crap on the floor so as we wouldn't keep kicking it over.
"Found something." Dadeson called from behind the desk. I rushed over to him. "What is it!?" I asked hopefully. "Well it isn't any of your stuff, but this could help." He flipped through the pages small leather-bound book. "Its his contact book. Perhaps he has a home phone listed here. It's not in the school directory." We searched frantically. Perhaps in vain, who would list themselves in their own- "Aha!" Dadeson exclaimed victoriously, cutting off my thoughts. "Found his home number!" And he proceeded to mutter and dial a telephone number on Larsen's office phone.
Suddenly I felt that we were very close to finding the truth. I just knew it. Larsen was going to pick up, and he was going to either confess, or tell me that my stuff was waiting safely in some closet in the Shepherd School and he'd have an explanation and everything would be okay...
"It's over, Larsen." Dadeson said into the receiver. "Yes, we know what you've done. Keith has told me everything. I know you have his iPimp and the books. If you bring them back now, I won't have to get the cops involved."
There was silence, and a tension filled the room as I strained to hear Larsen's response through the receiver.
"LISTEN TO ME! I said it's over." Dadeson yelled. "Aren't you listening? Hey! Wake up!" Suddenly I realized that I was daydreaming. "Stay with me, Keith!" "Yeah...I'm sorry what? Yes, of course. What did Larsen say?" "No answer." "Not at home at this time?" I asked suspiciously. "He could be doing anything right now, out to dinner, maybe." Dadeson suggested. "I tried his cell phone and all I get is a voicemail. So maybe he's busy. Look, Keith, I know it may not seem late to you, but..." "Yeah, I know. I know. I just wish...I wish I could have some answers. Anything. Fine if my stuff was stolen, but I'd love to know for sure!"
Suddenly I was very tired and strongly considering giving up until morning. I walked away from the desk and leaned against the wall admiring the new, neat piles that Jon had just made on the opposite side of the room.
"Nice job, Jon." I said as he placed his last book gently on top of the pile stack of junk that he had relocated to the corner. "Thanks." Finally he looked at me, giving what resembled a smile. He stepped away and sat in a nearby chair, and the book that he had just placed caught my eye. It looked very familiar. I walked closer and red the cover. "MOZART!" I exclaimed. This was one of the music books I had checked out of the library! "Jon, where did you find this book!?" I asked. "There." He indicated the floor under the desk. "It was just lying there." Dadeson rose from the chair behind the desk. "Let me see the book." I picked it up and handed it to him. "You're sure this is the book?" He asked. "YOUR book that YOU checked out?" "Yes I'm sure! Mozart Sonatas Book Two, should be due around the first week of September." He checked the back of the book. "Says here that it's due Sept. 5th." "You see?" I said. "Larsen HAD to have had my other stuff! This book was in my locker. Does that mean that the rest of my things are in this office?" "If so, good luck finding it. It's pretty cluttered in here." Jon said. "Heh, you're right." Dadeson said. "Or, it could mean that he just dropped it on his way out."
14. THE CRIMINAL. The only noise louder than the pounding of the rain was the sound of the audience's applause at the end of the concert. Our little man in the tuxedo had perhaps thought that the audience would have minded terribly the frequent flickers of the lights during the last movement, but they didn't. Or maybe it was that they were so happy that the orchestra was able to get through it amidst all the distractions. Either way, it was a standing ovation, and he was proud.
He took his customary two bows, threw kisses into the audience, and shook the hand of the first violinist. After being on stage for what he considered a courteous enough time, he exited backstage to wipe his forehead, and took a seat to rest. As the passing members of the orchestra followed suit, they patted him on the back, and continued onward to receive greetings from audience members and to talk about how bad the storm had gotten.
He sat for quite sometime. Reeling over how stressful the perfromance had been, listening to the sounds around him as everyone filed out of the concert hall until all was quiet. He closed his eyes.
He heard the footsteps of someone coming closer, but didn't bother to open his eyes. He figured it was a stage manager coming to lock the doors. Until-
"Looks as if you just ran out in the rain, not like you just conducted the symphony, Larry." A voice said.
He opened his eyes and over him stood a tall man with cloudy eyes and unkept, dirty blonde hair.
The man in the tuxedo laughed. "Hey, how are you, did you get to hear the concert?"
"Oh yes Larry," replied the blonde man. "Quite good, loved the lighting effects you added. Very modern!" He joked. "Hehe, I wish. Boy that was somethin, eh?" "Oh, yes sir! Very scary. But you got through it, as I knew you would. Now, you've got a few people waiting outside for you-" "Oh, honestly now. This is my least favorite part," the little Maestro said getting up. "Why can't they just go home and send me a card telling me how amazing I am?" And the two men headed to exit out into the nearest hallway. "Hey, Daniel?" Larry asked before they left backstage. "Are you doing alright? You look a little tired." "Oh no, I'm fine. Just been a...long day."
*** "I have to use the restroom." "You what?" Dadeson asked. "I said I need to use the restroom." Jon reiterated. "Well, can you hold it?" "I'm afraid I can't. I've been holding it since we were back down in your office." "What? Why didn't you just go then?" Jon said nothing. "Fine. Go." Dadeson said sighing. Jon headed for the door. "Wait me too!" I said, eyeing Dadeson. I really just wanted to make sure Jon didn't escape, if he had something up his sleeve. "Boy...it's just all of this rain...makes you...whew....!" Jon rolled his eyes. I winked at Dadeson just before we left and went back downstairs.
As we passed the Grand Foyer, I noticed a large crowd of people standing near the doors. "Hey, Jon, what's going on here?" I asked. "Looks like the concert's over." "Oh?" "These people must not want to go out in the rain." "Has it gotten worse?" I entered the foyer and headed towards the crowd to get a better look. "Hey Keith!" Jon called from behind me. "Yeah?" "I thought you had to pee!" He said, and walked off to the restroom. Whups.
***
"Well? Where is everyone, Daniel?" Larry asked. "They were just here!" Daniel replied stroking his greasy hair. They listened for a moment and heard a low murmur coming from the foyer. "Excuse me, ma'am, what's going on?" The maestro asked a hispanic woman in janitor's dress. "Oh, sir so much rain tonight. It pouring all day. And I not being able to go home! Look for youself!" She indicated the doors further ahead. "Oh my-" Exclaimed the Maestro. "Look at that rain!" Said the blonde man. "See?" Said the janitor woman. "God mad at us! You know God?" The three of them moved closer to the doors to join the crowd.
***
I couldn't believe my eyes. It was as if God was planning a second Great Flood. Rain came down in sheets. The men and women dressed in formal evening attire talked with each other and called on their cell phones, all speaking excitedly about the storm. One man had gone outside to get the car for a woman whom I assume was his wife. But he only got to the bottom of the steps and had to turn around. The wind was too strong. He made his way through the crowd and passed me. He was dripping wet and shivering. I eyed him as he stumbled through the foyer making dark, wet footprints on the grey carpet as he headed to the restr-
"Holy shit. It's him."
15. TRAPPED.
I couldn't breathe. Why was he still here? Did he attend the concert? Was he planning on stealing other things before he was done for tonight? He didn't see me. He was too busy talking with the conductor and was that Flora? The crazy, evangalizing janitor from before? Oh God I definitely didn't want her to see me. I skirted the crowd and found a dark corner. "Dadeson!" I thought, and reached in my pocket to dial his number.
I flipped my phone open and saw that I had 1 MISSED CALL. It was Dadeson, who had called my earlier when I was hiding upstairs. I pressed CALL. And waited impatiently for him to pick up.
"Hello?" "Mr. Dadeson! This is Keith listen to my carefully." "I'm listening." "Larsen is here! He's standing in the foyer!" "You're kidding." "NO! I'm not! What should I do? Excuse me ma'am!" I pushed aside a woman in a red dress. She was blocking my view of Dadeson and the conductor. "Keith you're breaking up...I can't hear you! What's going on there?" "I...everyone's here- Can you hear me now? Hello? Dadeson?" "Yes! Keith I can barely hear you. Listen. Quicky. Go to Larsen, tell him to meet me in my office as soon as he can." "What?! Your office? I don't know how to get there!" "Jon does! Listen if you run into any trouble tell him I said teoinvc2i4e20msdlkcmwlqk3m1@%^&@~!..." "WHAT?! YOU'RE BREAKING UP!" "#omoiemoi!#(soivcmowiem&^#lskdmc!&*..." The phone call was immediately interrupted by a monotonous dial tone.
"Dammit." I closed the phone and reopened it, intending to try again. But when I looked up, Larsen was gone! I panicked. "Excuse me!" I said rudely as I fought my way through the crowd of evening gowns. I searched frantically throughout the foyer and spied Larsen heading back out of the foyer with the conductor and Flora. It looked like she was busy trying to tell him about her relationship with Jesus.
"MR. LARSEN!" I found myself calling out before I knew what I was doing. He turned around. "Boy am I glad I found you!" "Mr. Stonum, er...what is it?" "Excuse me, Maestro." I said politely and waved to Flora. I turned my attention sharply to the suspect. "Charles Dadeson needs to speak with you he's down in his office it's a matter of building security." "What?" "I said that Charles Dadeson ne-" "No I heard you...but...what? Why?" "I...don't know." "Then why'd he send you?" "I...well...because...you see...er-"
"Hey, honey you ever find you stuff?" Flora said interrupting and almost ruining things. "What? What stuff?! I'm not missing anything!" "Listen Keith, I haven't got time for games! I've got to be getting home!"
"In this rain?" Larry interjected. "Hate to break it to you, Danny, but we might not be going anywhere for a while. Go see what old Charlie wants. Probably another game of poker while we wait this thing out. I should be going now. I'll be in my office if you need me." And the little conductor quickly left the foyer.
"Wait! Larry!" Larsen called out, but Larry didn't turn around. He seemed to be running from something. Ah...it was Flora. Guess he didn't feel like hearing her semon. "Fine." Sighed Larsen and the two of us headed in the direction of the elevator. "You're coming to?" He asked me.
"Uh...yes. I was just meeting with him...and I forgot...my...BOOK..." I said cleverly. "Oh? Al...right then. Shall we?" He said as he pressed the DOWN button and the doors slid hesitantly open. We didn't notice that Flora had been following us until we were both on the elevator and she followed us on. "Ma'am, what are you doing?" I asked impatiently.
"I talking to Daniel about Jesus before you interrupt me!" She said scoldingly. I quickly glanced at Larsen and he rolled his eyes. She could have potentially messed things up, but I didn't care. All that mattered was the criminal was right in the palm of my hand. And it would all be over soon.
"Like I say before," she began, and the doors closed behind her. "God show his mercy on me when he send me cigarettes and I not dealing with many men anymore. And he give you something, anything you just ask having to ask for it! Anything you want!"
"Yes," I added. "And Flora, does God want us to steal things we want? Is that how he blesses us?" "Stealing! I not stealing you calling me thief?!" "No...no Flora! Not YOU!" I could feel the rage beginning to stir in my chest. "But someone on this elevator has stolen tonight. And it's not you, nor is it me, Flora. What does God think about that?!" I didn't look at Larsen once. For fear that I would snap. "What's going on here?!" Larsen asked. "Don't ask me that!" I yelled. "You know exactly what's going on! Where's my stuff, Larsen?" "What stuff?" "I'm only going to ask you once more. WHERE-IS-MY-STUFF?" "You're crazy. I'm getting the hell out of here."
He reached for the button labeled "G" but I stood in front of it just in time. "You're not escaping buddy. No way out. I've got you trapped. And we're going to get to the bottom of this." "What going on?" Flora asked fearfully. "Shut up, Flora and stay out of this. This doesn't concern you."
"Help! We being robbed!" She began to yell. "Help! HELP!" "NO ONE'S ROBBING YOU!" I yelled forcefully to her. Larsen tried to get to the elevator button behind me but I pushed him away. He charged at me knocking me backward. The elevator stopped. Apparently I hit the stop button as I fell backwards against the wall. Larsen charged in my direction again, this time pressing the "G" button, in attempt to resurface.
The elevator shuddered, and moved moved upwards.
I fought him. He pulled my shirt and attempted to throw me aside, but I grounded myself. I was not willing to let him escape, at any cost. I threw my entire body towards him, and with a loud thud we both went crashing into the back wall of the elevator. "HELP ME! HELP!!!" Flora called in a shrill voice and began to cry and pray. "Kid - what -the hhhhell are you doing?" Larsen asked grunting as he struggled to reach his. I blocked him, pushing and pulling. Finally was able to hit "B" with my elbow.
The elevator shuddered and moved downward again. "Don't-act-like-you-don't-knnnnnow!!!" I exclaimed as he threw me aside and pressed G again.
The elevator shuddered. Jolted. And then... ...to our dismay, ...came to a... halt.
We froze.
The seconds that it took for us to realize that we were trapped seemed to lag forever. We looked at each other, suspended between moments - suspended virtually in mid-air. | | |
| i've changed.
i dont know what happened or when it happened but i've definitely changed. boy i wish i hadn't.
i used to be able to follow my thoughts on a whim, and they'd lead me to a place where i'd be content. what happened to that? is that what a free spirit is?
i feel caged.
where my thoughts once delivered me from reality, they only settle me in it further, and i find no escape.
i think i know what's happened.
i've become accustomed:
to the way things are. to what you expect of me all of you, who pretend you are important.
and i, somehow, have learned to believe you...to believe and accept your perceptions of yourselves, and have been too wrapped up in pleasing you, oh World, that i have forgotten the significance of self...
...and how my psyche screams for attention
and my body
my soul
my brain
the creative parts of me
c
o
m
e
b
a
a
a
a
a
c
k.
i'm coming. just give me time. | | |
| not bad, but
boy do i have some work to do. i guess that's why i'm going to europe?? should i quit? should i just become an actor? what if i'm just mediocre at that too?
cures for feeling bad about your artistry:
1 procrastination 2 bike riding 3 blueberry frozen yogurt, with strawbs and bloobs 4 daydreaming 5 making a new friend
sumer is icumen in. lhude sing cucu. | | |
| it feels so good to be done with that recital. I have no idea what just happened. I feel like it was good, but...I don't know. I don't want to listen to the recording, though I know i'll have to one day. Not tonight...no...tonight I just need to...clean.
and drink tea.
My family came, many of whom had never heard me sing before. I love them so much...they're such a crazy bunch of folks. I love them so much!!!!!!!! They had so much food. And my Aunt was encouraging folks to take a lot of it home - seems like we had too much...
And so many kids!!!!!! And Kylen was there, who seems to get cuter and cuter everyday! And who barely likes me and cries whenever I try to play with him, so today I frowned at him and he started laughing. Seems like he likes it when I'm mean back at him.
It makes me feel so good to give away things. I gave the leftovers from the reception to a group of people studying in the commons. It feels so good to offer things to people...to an audience, to a crowd, to God...to math majors.
Singing should be like that.
thanks be to God from whom all blessings flow.
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