October 5, 2017 - Casa del Brujo
In the horizon, the sky was a brilliant red turning the feathery layer of clouds into streaks of colors stretching over the ocean. It was a fitting color for Autumn as the leaves died gorgeously just the same. Aoife could have paused coming around the bend in a well worn path. She should have. But dreamers tended to pay their attention elsewhere other than when it was due. She knew that it took forty-six carefully tended steps to arrive at the back door of the screened porch. Another six, maybe seven, to the door which would let her inside Canaan?s home.
She didn?t have to count them anymore, but she did. She always would. Tonight she?d forgone the need for shoes, likely because she couldn?t find the match to make a pair. The frayed ends of her jeans chased after the echoes of those very tip-toe steps. The chill that dampened the air wasn?t enough for the weight of the wool cardigan she wore. Summer had swept in for one last dance, but her fingers had been restless this night. Two buttons remained with only one finding a hole, two below from where it belonged. Her hair was still damp, surprise having found a brush to worry at the ends which clung desperately to whatever surface they could. In her arms she carried a basket, open on the ends, full of flowers upon flowers nurtured by nature?s wild.
She opened the door to find the Great Room in a state of disarray and the Cajun, shirtless, seated upon the couch. A full size keyboard synthesizer (complete with soundboard) bridged the chasm of space between the couch and the coffee table to his right and all around him on the floor, the table, and the other half of the couch was loose sheet music. Here and there were dotted balled up mistakes, some tossed as far as the hallway that led into the bathroom.
He wore a set of headphones, and that coupled with the fact that his eyes were closed meant he was entirely unaware of Aoife?s unannounced visit. The only sound that came from the machine was the muted dab of the keys as they were depressed, but his expression was moved along with the music that poured through the speakers firmly pressed to his ears.
Unannounced equaled unnoticed which gave her the advantage of stolen moments she would keep secret. She was so very good at keeping secrets, like the one that fluttered inside of the cage of her ribs. Aoife was learning to keep it from her eyes. There was a long silence filled with unspoken words as she watched the man oblivious to her being. The door had long since closed behind her, a choice made before she could change her mind to turn and go.
Several thunks fell from the roof to the ceiling followed by the click and clack of claws. The flinch that broke her was a small thing, the frown that followed was not. One look up and two steps in, she swallowed up the space left until her perch found the songbird standing on a blank piece of sheet music directly in front of the keyboard. She reached out and set two cool fingers on the back of Cane?s hand.
He started, ceasing to play at once while lifting the other hand to tear the headphones away from his ears. ?Aoife,? he said, sounding surprised. A wide, toothy smile broke out across his face a half second later. ?Didn?t hear ya come in.? Captain Obvious.
?Canaan.? A name for a name. ?You were wearing silence.? She had no idea that music could come from headphones.
Guessing as much, Cane held them up for her to take. Not one hesitation when she reached for them. ?Just hold it up to your ear. Listen.? When she raised them up, head tilted with delicate, avian likeness, Cane played a few chords. Her eyes widened. He laughed. ?Sal likes when I play, but sometimes it?s chaos when I?m composing. Not to mention? some songs are supposed to be surprises.?
Salvador. The headphones lowered with her hand and the rise of tension. He would have made himself known for certain, but it didn?t stop her from coloring the space of the room with her eyes.
?He?s not here,? Cane assured her.
Eye of attention fell on him once more. Her smile was the truth, though not as honest as it could have been. ?May I ask you something?? This said as she handed the headphones over.
He took them from her, nodding as he did so. Sandy blond hair fell into his face. He swept it back with a rake of calloused fingers. ?Of course, cher. What?s up?? Cane moved the keyboard to the coffee table which freed up the cushion beside where he was seated.
Such a restless thing. Notes spun themselves into a song of movement. Time had left behind vases on various surfaces in his home. She filled them on whimsical thoughts some days and emptied them before sadness could wilt. Cane had moved the one on the coffee table to the floor. ?I?m leaving.? A handful of flowers were left behind. Vibrant, orange petals rested against his knee when she moved off to a side table. ?Can you--will you mind Strix??
The only reason she?d need him to watch her baby would be if she was going far away--leaving the realm far away. In his now many years of knowing her, she had not ever done this before and the notion filled him with a sudden flood of irrational anxiety. Where are you going? For how long? With whom? These questions were not his to ask because Aoife was not his to keep; she never would be, and he knew that. It?s impossible to tame the sea.
?I?ll say yes ?cause I know it?s what you want to hear even if we both know that damn bird don?t need lookin? after.? Cane smiled.
Aoife peered at him over the tops of blue and yellow spotted with white. The basket had fallen from the crook of her arm to waiting fingers, smothered to the very tips with a cardigan sleeve. ?He does.? She insisted.
?All right, mama. I got you. I?ll keep an eye on him.? Chuckling softly, Cane stood and smoothed a hand across his chest.
Aiming the head of a bright, purple Aster flower in a point at the man, she inhaled to catch the edges of the words waiting. Still they waited, stretched thin along the length of her arm which remained aloft and as unmoving as her breath. It was a simple hiccup of time, one broken when she bent her elbow as if she were going to fling the flower over the back of the couch. ?He is damned because he frolics in the briars chasing after mice. They stick to his feathers. He can?t fly well. You have to pick them off.?
Cane snorted. ?Ya can?t fix stupid.? Studiously avoiding her murderous gaze, he plotted his path to escape. Surrounded by a sea of music, he opted to climb over the back of the couch and moved into the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee. He turned his back on her, gorgeous silky scales on full display.
?He?s---? it wasn?t a thing she could deny. The bird, the owl, the fearsome predator of prey was for certain a special creature.
?Nope!? he declared, cutting her off with a shake of the head. ?Don?t even try.?
Cut her off indeed in so many more ways than one. The flower she?d used to reprimand was pressed against her lips, petals tickle twirling against them as she rolled the stem between her fingers. Obvious was too much to be caught in. Her turn was more abrupt than needed. She distracted herself with the dining table. ?He?ll look for you at night.? The vase exploded with colors.
?No, he?ll look for you and be only vaguely satisfied with me as a substitute.? Nothing but pure, strong spanish-made coffee swirled around inside the mug Cane carried with him to the table.
?He will,? she agreed in a whisper toward the kitchen. ?Will you be where he can find you??
?Most of the time, I reckon.? It was an honest answer. He wouldn?t give her any less. ?How long--? the question died on his tongue. Cane took a sip of coffee and started over. ?You?re comin? back, right??
Aoife cut into his space. It was meant for a pass to the other side where the last bit of emptiness waited for her to fill. She brought with her the flavors of Spring, a memory, lost and found. The question pulled her around, the depth of her eyes this close something to get lost in. ?I am.? Words slow and curious. ?Will you sing for him??
?No.? More truth. But his smile was kind. ?I?m sure to play my guitar where he can hear it at some point, though.? His fingers found her hair with a light, prodding touch to tuck it behind an ear. The tip of his thumb grazed the lobe and the side of her neck before his hand fell away. ?You?ll be safe??
?In the morning. With the sun.? It wasn?t a secret just an answer that sounded like a confession, quieter when he reached, trailing off with his touch. ?Will you play for him in the morning?? The basket would have fallen had it not been for the safety of another hand. ?He won?t rest until it?s safe.?
?The sun is safe.? It was a non-answer. ?You do know that?s how owls work anyway, right??
Her nod was slow. ?I?ll be safe.? She wasn?t sure of it as far as the distance was. Saying the words aloud gave her confidence hope that she would be. ?It?s my fault. Everyday I?ve sang for him. With the sun. Since the beginning.?
?Who knew I?d ever be jealous of a bird??
?You sleep like the dead.? Who knew she had it within her saved for moments like this.
?It don?t count if you sing at me when I?m unconscious.?
Be still his beating heart. This was the smile that she wore on her lips: Guilty. ?You won?t forget??
?Forget what, mon ch?re?? He gripped the handle of his mug a little too tightly.
?To play for him.? Me. All the things wrapped up in many meanings.
?I won?t forget.? You. All the things he couldn?t say.
Aoife shared with him the smile kept close and hidden. ?Thank you. Just a few weeks.? Give or take, more or less. She gave silence only a few seconds. ?Canaan??
A few weeks wasn?t so bad. Her smile dazzled him. He stopped strangling the cup. ?Aoife??
?Are you staying??
?For the Season, at least. I?ll be here when you get back.?
The curl of her lips had fallen to the ghost; there and gone. ?Right now. For a little bit of time?? She had no right to ask for it, but she did.
Canaan?s smile was as broad as it was warm. ?Would you like to go for a walk by the water??
Infectious, though hers was only a hint that skimmed the surface. It was far more than what she had been about to ask for. ?I would.?
He held a hand out to her, palm up.
A minute of clarity, perhaps two, when in fact it had only take her a handful of seconds to realize what he was offering. One blink caught it. A second to make it real. The third condemned her choice.
The basket she?d been clutching was mostly vacant. She?d find a place for the rest come their return. Setting it on the counter, Aoife reached over, skimming the surface of his skin with her fingertips. The sum of it was covered with the collection of a too long sweater sleeve bunched where it fell.
((Written with the talented AoifeDuggan))
In the horizon, the sky was a brilliant red turning the feathery layer of clouds into streaks of colors stretching over the ocean. It was a fitting color for Autumn as the leaves died gorgeously just the same. Aoife could have paused coming around the bend in a well worn path. She should have. But dreamers tended to pay their attention elsewhere other than when it was due. She knew that it took forty-six carefully tended steps to arrive at the back door of the screened porch. Another six, maybe seven, to the door which would let her inside Canaan?s home.
She didn?t have to count them anymore, but she did. She always would. Tonight she?d forgone the need for shoes, likely because she couldn?t find the match to make a pair. The frayed ends of her jeans chased after the echoes of those very tip-toe steps. The chill that dampened the air wasn?t enough for the weight of the wool cardigan she wore. Summer had swept in for one last dance, but her fingers had been restless this night. Two buttons remained with only one finding a hole, two below from where it belonged. Her hair was still damp, surprise having found a brush to worry at the ends which clung desperately to whatever surface they could. In her arms she carried a basket, open on the ends, full of flowers upon flowers nurtured by nature?s wild.
She opened the door to find the Great Room in a state of disarray and the Cajun, shirtless, seated upon the couch. A full size keyboard synthesizer (complete with soundboard) bridged the chasm of space between the couch and the coffee table to his right and all around him on the floor, the table, and the other half of the couch was loose sheet music. Here and there were dotted balled up mistakes, some tossed as far as the hallway that led into the bathroom.
He wore a set of headphones, and that coupled with the fact that his eyes were closed meant he was entirely unaware of Aoife?s unannounced visit. The only sound that came from the machine was the muted dab of the keys as they were depressed, but his expression was moved along with the music that poured through the speakers firmly pressed to his ears.
Unannounced equaled unnoticed which gave her the advantage of stolen moments she would keep secret. She was so very good at keeping secrets, like the one that fluttered inside of the cage of her ribs. Aoife was learning to keep it from her eyes. There was a long silence filled with unspoken words as she watched the man oblivious to her being. The door had long since closed behind her, a choice made before she could change her mind to turn and go.
Several thunks fell from the roof to the ceiling followed by the click and clack of claws. The flinch that broke her was a small thing, the frown that followed was not. One look up and two steps in, she swallowed up the space left until her perch found the songbird standing on a blank piece of sheet music directly in front of the keyboard. She reached out and set two cool fingers on the back of Cane?s hand.
He started, ceasing to play at once while lifting the other hand to tear the headphones away from his ears. ?Aoife,? he said, sounding surprised. A wide, toothy smile broke out across his face a half second later. ?Didn?t hear ya come in.? Captain Obvious.
?Canaan.? A name for a name. ?You were wearing silence.? She had no idea that music could come from headphones.
Guessing as much, Cane held them up for her to take. Not one hesitation when she reached for them. ?Just hold it up to your ear. Listen.? When she raised them up, head tilted with delicate, avian likeness, Cane played a few chords. Her eyes widened. He laughed. ?Sal likes when I play, but sometimes it?s chaos when I?m composing. Not to mention? some songs are supposed to be surprises.?
Salvador. The headphones lowered with her hand and the rise of tension. He would have made himself known for certain, but it didn?t stop her from coloring the space of the room with her eyes.
?He?s not here,? Cane assured her.
Eye of attention fell on him once more. Her smile was the truth, though not as honest as it could have been. ?May I ask you something?? This said as she handed the headphones over.
He took them from her, nodding as he did so. Sandy blond hair fell into his face. He swept it back with a rake of calloused fingers. ?Of course, cher. What?s up?? Cane moved the keyboard to the coffee table which freed up the cushion beside where he was seated.
Such a restless thing. Notes spun themselves into a song of movement. Time had left behind vases on various surfaces in his home. She filled them on whimsical thoughts some days and emptied them before sadness could wilt. Cane had moved the one on the coffee table to the floor. ?I?m leaving.? A handful of flowers were left behind. Vibrant, orange petals rested against his knee when she moved off to a side table. ?Can you--will you mind Strix??
The only reason she?d need him to watch her baby would be if she was going far away--leaving the realm far away. In his now many years of knowing her, she had not ever done this before and the notion filled him with a sudden flood of irrational anxiety. Where are you going? For how long? With whom? These questions were not his to ask because Aoife was not his to keep; she never would be, and he knew that. It?s impossible to tame the sea.
?I?ll say yes ?cause I know it?s what you want to hear even if we both know that damn bird don?t need lookin? after.? Cane smiled.
Aoife peered at him over the tops of blue and yellow spotted with white. The basket had fallen from the crook of her arm to waiting fingers, smothered to the very tips with a cardigan sleeve. ?He does.? She insisted.
?All right, mama. I got you. I?ll keep an eye on him.? Chuckling softly, Cane stood and smoothed a hand across his chest.
Aiming the head of a bright, purple Aster flower in a point at the man, she inhaled to catch the edges of the words waiting. Still they waited, stretched thin along the length of her arm which remained aloft and as unmoving as her breath. It was a simple hiccup of time, one broken when she bent her elbow as if she were going to fling the flower over the back of the couch. ?He is damned because he frolics in the briars chasing after mice. They stick to his feathers. He can?t fly well. You have to pick them off.?
Cane snorted. ?Ya can?t fix stupid.? Studiously avoiding her murderous gaze, he plotted his path to escape. Surrounded by a sea of music, he opted to climb over the back of the couch and moved into the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee. He turned his back on her, gorgeous silky scales on full display.
?He?s---? it wasn?t a thing she could deny. The bird, the owl, the fearsome predator of prey was for certain a special creature.
?Nope!? he declared, cutting her off with a shake of the head. ?Don?t even try.?
Cut her off indeed in so many more ways than one. The flower she?d used to reprimand was pressed against her lips, petals tickle twirling against them as she rolled the stem between her fingers. Obvious was too much to be caught in. Her turn was more abrupt than needed. She distracted herself with the dining table. ?He?ll look for you at night.? The vase exploded with colors.
?No, he?ll look for you and be only vaguely satisfied with me as a substitute.? Nothing but pure, strong spanish-made coffee swirled around inside the mug Cane carried with him to the table.
?He will,? she agreed in a whisper toward the kitchen. ?Will you be where he can find you??
?Most of the time, I reckon.? It was an honest answer. He wouldn?t give her any less. ?How long--? the question died on his tongue. Cane took a sip of coffee and started over. ?You?re comin? back, right??
Aoife cut into his space. It was meant for a pass to the other side where the last bit of emptiness waited for her to fill. She brought with her the flavors of Spring, a memory, lost and found. The question pulled her around, the depth of her eyes this close something to get lost in. ?I am.? Words slow and curious. ?Will you sing for him??
?No.? More truth. But his smile was kind. ?I?m sure to play my guitar where he can hear it at some point, though.? His fingers found her hair with a light, prodding touch to tuck it behind an ear. The tip of his thumb grazed the lobe and the side of her neck before his hand fell away. ?You?ll be safe??
?In the morning. With the sun.? It wasn?t a secret just an answer that sounded like a confession, quieter when he reached, trailing off with his touch. ?Will you play for him in the morning?? The basket would have fallen had it not been for the safety of another hand. ?He won?t rest until it?s safe.?
?The sun is safe.? It was a non-answer. ?You do know that?s how owls work anyway, right??
Her nod was slow. ?I?ll be safe.? She wasn?t sure of it as far as the distance was. Saying the words aloud gave her confidence hope that she would be. ?It?s my fault. Everyday I?ve sang for him. With the sun. Since the beginning.?
?Who knew I?d ever be jealous of a bird??
?You sleep like the dead.? Who knew she had it within her saved for moments like this.
?It don?t count if you sing at me when I?m unconscious.?
Be still his beating heart. This was the smile that she wore on her lips: Guilty. ?You won?t forget??
?Forget what, mon ch?re?? He gripped the handle of his mug a little too tightly.
?To play for him.? Me. All the things wrapped up in many meanings.
?I won?t forget.? You. All the things he couldn?t say.
Aoife shared with him the smile kept close and hidden. ?Thank you. Just a few weeks.? Give or take, more or less. She gave silence only a few seconds. ?Canaan??
A few weeks wasn?t so bad. Her smile dazzled him. He stopped strangling the cup. ?Aoife??
?Are you staying??
?For the Season, at least. I?ll be here when you get back.?
The curl of her lips had fallen to the ghost; there and gone. ?Right now. For a little bit of time?? She had no right to ask for it, but she did.
Canaan?s smile was as broad as it was warm. ?Would you like to go for a walk by the water??
Infectious, though hers was only a hint that skimmed the surface. It was far more than what she had been about to ask for. ?I would.?
He held a hand out to her, palm up.
A minute of clarity, perhaps two, when in fact it had only take her a handful of seconds to realize what he was offering. One blink caught it. A second to make it real. The third condemned her choice.
The basket she?d been clutching was mostly vacant. She?d find a place for the rest come their return. Setting it on the counter, Aoife reached over, skimming the surface of his skin with her fingertips. The sum of it was covered with the collection of a too long sweater sleeve bunched where it fell.
((Written with the talented AoifeDuggan))