Firsts and Fisticuffs

315 days until extinction.

That evening was a night of celebration. It was mild to the standards of a world before The Declaration but positively regal by current standards. Not only was cold drink served, ginger soda for those underage and a home brewed ale for the adults, but a pair of roaming boar had been found and roasted to mouth watering delectability over a large fire pit. One of the gardeners had ground up a plethora of corn to make delicious tortillas for the meat.

But what excited Jackson the most was the heavy presence of music during their communal dinner gathering.

The gathering was situated near an electronics shop, the front window of which had been smashed and replaced with an enormous stereo system that was playing an array of music, as DJed by a trio of teenagers who looked to be a few years younger than Jackson.

As the night carried on instruments were brought out and after less than an hour of that an impromptu concert and karaoke party had erupted.

Keila had barely left his side since they left the music store behind, what had also not left was the bubbly feeling in Jackson’s stomach. She had been eager to show him around the neighborhood and introduce him to the people she interacted with in her day to day life.

It was a pleasant life, for sure. Albeit one punctuated with moments of terror or anxiety, but for Jackson that was not all that dissimilar from his life before the world went to hell. He had started to wonder why he had run in the first place, why he hadn’t just tried to live a normal life for a little while.

“So you play?” Keila asked, jostling him from the deep thoughts he was about to quicksand himself into.

“Huh? Oh, yeah I do.” He looked over at the instruments that had been pulled out. Some acoustic guitars, a violin and cello as well as a hurdy-gurdy that a handful of children had become enamored with. “I can play a bit of violin. I’m more familiar with the clarinet and piano though.”

“Hey!” Keila turned to the others in the large gathering. “Anyone know where there’s a piano?”

There was a chattering among the gathered group before an older woman pointed to a nearby open door that led to a second floor walk-up apartment. Keila grabbed Jackson’s hand, which caused his heart to beat rapidly, and hauled him easily to his feet.

“Come on maestro. You’re gonna play for your supper.”

She lead him up the stairs of the walkout and with each step Jackson felt a tightening in his stomach, almost like it was doing somersaults. He could feel his hands sweating and could only pray that she had not noticed.

They walked into a small but rather cozy looking studio style apartment with a combined living room and bedroom with a small difference in the hardwood flooring the only real thing separating that room and the kitchen. It was the kind of place he imagined himself one day living, if he had ever managed to untangle himself from his familial expectations.

“There it is maestro,” Keila said gesturing to a large piano that took up most of the living room area, with the only other bit of furniture being a bed laying directly on the floor. “The people are waiting.”

She gestured to the window with a playful smile.

Sitting down at the piano he let his fingers slowly slide over the keys. It was a well used instrument but was nonetheless in incredible condition, whoever owned it previously had loved it. He wondered how many songs they had played on it, how many lives had changed from the notes of the keys.

His fingers gently pressed the keys, slowly playing a melody he had been taught to test the tune of an instrument. And much like the outward appearance the piano was still perfectly tuned.

Excitement flooded through him as his fingers flew across the keys and every melody he had ever before played began to pour out of him. Whistling and cheers from down below began to erupt with each passing song.

“You’re a damn genius son!”

“That’s a beautiful song!”

“Play Free Bird!”

“How long have you been playing?”

“Do you like Mozart or Bach more!?”

“Play Free Bird!!”

“Shut the hell up Tommy or I’ll kick your teeth in!” Keila shrieked from the window after the song ‘Free Bird’ had been requested for a fifth time. She glared down at him and the gathered crowd, which had slowly begun to thin, laughed in response.

“Seriously though, if you don’t play it he’s libel to come up here himself.” She chuckled before flopping down on the bed and propping herself up on her elbows. Her hair fell slightly in her eyes and the way she stared at him caused the small of Jackson’s back to sweat ever so slightly.

“Can I ask you something Jackson?”

“Besides that?” He chuckled nervously at the horrible joke.

“Huh?”

“Sorry bad joke, people usually say that and I just think it’s kinda funny because asking if you can ask something is asking.” He cleared his throat and played a simple tune on the keys. “But um, yeah of course. You can ask me anything.”

“Do you want to come sit with me?”

Jackson’s head buzzed with a lack of thought, so much that he had to remind himself to breath at one point. His entire body felt hot. He didn’t answer her but simply stood up and moved over to the bed, sitting down near her but not quite next to her.

She rose up, leaning over to close the window and blinds before sitting on her knees on the bed in front of Jackson. Her hand moved to his cheek and he felt the coolness of her skin, it was comforting against the fire that burned within his body. He felt her pull him in and did nothing to resist, and suddenly her lips were on his and they were falling into the bed together.

-----

Harper had never been one for large crowds and had even less of a taste for raucous celebrations. But she wanted to keep a close eye on Jackson and so begrudgingly hung near the periphery of the gathering. She ate the rations and drink they had packed, refusing anything they offered.

After an hour she wandered back to the community movie theatre in hopes that she could retrieve at least one of the weapons they had taken and stowed away. She was quiet in pushing the door open and creeping behind the attendant counter when a sudden and slightly muffled voice came from somewhere upstairs.

“If you’re looking for your guns, they’re no longer down there!”

With a heavy sigh Harper snagged one of the chocolate bars that had been placed on the countertop and began to make her way up the stairs while munching on a mix of chocolate, caramel and peanuts.

Gabby was waiting for her in the projection room though this time there was no film running. Instead she sat behind a small desk that looked like some kind of end table by the way she had her feet propped up on it.

“Been waiting for you. Thought you’d have come earlier.”

Harper shrugged, “had to make sure the kid was going to be okay before I came here to beat your ass.”

The woman sitting at the table laughed deeply at the comment as she stood up almost lazily. “You think that’s how this is gonna shake out?”

“It’s how it went with your brother.”

And their feud of fisticuffs had begun almost like she’d fired a starters pistol.

Gabby leaped at the larger woman with the ferocity of one possessed, yet as Harper tried to throw the woman to the ground a twinge of searing pain flared through her arm where the bullet still lingered. She felt knuckles crash into her jaw, felt her teeth chatter and could already taste blood in her mouth. A moment later the shorter woman was atop Harper raining blows upon her, only stopping when Harper managed to twist her off and slam her to the ground with an enormous crash causing nearby spools of film to clatter to the ground.

Harper hit her as hard as she could with her good arm while holding her down with her weakened arm, so she was not fully surprised when Gabby shoved her free. She could not help the sharp cry of pain emitted but had not expected it to cause the other woman to stop.

“The hell? Are you injured or something?”

Harper spit out some blood, “what does that matter?”

Gabby let out a string of curses in Polish before rubbing the back of her neck and gesturing to a larger table that was normally used for cutting together film prints.

“Go put your arm there.”

“Why? Gonna cut it off?”

“No, I’m going to fix it.” She pulled a first aid kit from one of the nearby cabinets and set it atop the table. “I’ll not have you being injured as an excuse when I kick your ass.”

Harper chuckle and shook her head before putting her arm on the table, “I’d like to see that.”

“Oh you will. Once you heal up.”

“Yeah? Gonna keep us here till I’m ship shape?”

“Well, it’s either that or…” She let the words linger while preparing all the things needed for the surgery.

“Or?” Harper spoke as if she knew what was coming next.

“Or you can tell me what really happened between you and my brother.”