A Chance We Have to Take

[brooklynlove]

The air was chill and dank as Basie pressed her cheek to the cool stone wall, letting its wetness moisten her skin. The passageway was only dimly lit, but she rather enjoyed the dark. That is, she liked the prospect that she never knew exactly what was waiting ahead of her. Although most people would find the same idea terrifying, Basie took strange pleasure in the uncertainty. She supposed it was almost like life. You never knew exactly what life held, and sometimes you couldn't see at all in front of you, but what else could you do but stare it right in the face? That's what Basie liked about the dark.

She let her skin ease away from the coolness of the stone, and listened as her bare feet padded softly down the steps. By now, she knew exactly where she was going; she'd lost count of just how many times she'd been here. She loved everything about the place: the surrounding darkness, the soft, wet air that kissed her, the echo that rang out if she chose to speak. But it was the piano that drew her. Before she'd discovered this place, she'd had to make do with the chipped, yellowed keys of Ewan's upright, but now she longed only to slide her fingers lightly onto the glistening ivory of the grand piano that stood majestically in the center of her newest sanctuary. She hadn't a clue as to what the room was used for, but often wondered about the many costumes always strewn about, the glitter that dusted the stone floor. It was something she had decided she would like to find out someday.

Basie slid gracefully onto the red, cushioned stool that stood before the piano, and tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear. She touched one key gingerly, glancing about quickly. She'd never been caught yet, but...there was the dark again. You just never knew. She drew her gaze back to the sparkling keys beneath her hands and then she was off, her fingers moving deftly across the keys, pounding out chords, dancing out melodies. And then she moved into a slower, more melancholy tune, letting her fingertips drag out the refrain, and began to sing in her low, alto voice. It was a French song. She'd learned it as a small child, had heard her mother sing it often, and the words came easily now, the velvety accent flowing as beautifully as when her mother had sung it. Basie couldn't help but feel a small twinge of remorse as she listened to the sound of the smooth tongue she hadn't heard in so long. She let her fingers slow, still singing gently, and listened again. She heard something other than her own soft voice.

[Mike D. Greaser]

Did anyone know? Did anyone notice? Mike wondered this as he walked the streets of Harlem. Hundreds of people in one place, but did they know? Did they pay attention to each other? Could they read each other like Mike could read them? Did they know that he knew what they were feeling? thinking? No, probably not. That was the beauty of it. Mike had gained this gift years ago as he played with others emotions and hid his own. He learned to read people like he read books. It was something Mike was justly proud about. And now he used it almost every hour of his life.

A women and her husband walked by. Mike knew they were married because they both wore rings upon their left hand finger. True, they could be married to some other then the person standing next to them, but Mike knew better. The way he kept glancing at her. He loved her. She kept looking the other way. She was hurt. About what, Mike could only guess.

Two young boys ran past him and then stopped, trying to look inconspicuous. It wasn't working. Mike knew in their pockets were things that did not belong to them. He smiled at them as the passed, winking. They knew he knew. Their eyes widened and then they ran off.

Mike chuckled, shaking his head. As he glanced back up, Mike caught sight of a girl. She was walking fast, almost running, but trying not to attract attention. She was almost awkward as she ran. Mike knew she didn't want people noticing her. She wore a simple dress... and no shoes. Mike smiled. That was something new. But she wasn't poor, Mike could tell that by the direction she had come from and the condition her clothing was in. She was headed toward the Harlem Opera House. Mike knew what she would find. Emptiness. He had been there many times. And at this hour no one was around. Maybe that was what she wanted?

Mike decided to follow her. He was in the mood for some fun. And he knew she would be fun. By the time he reached the Opera House and made his way through the darkness, Mike could hear a piano and a soft voice sing along with it. Mike knew that song. He smiled and began to sing with her. That should freak her out. Yes, Mike was trying to freak her out. Like he said, he was in the mood for fun.

The melody slowed and her voice softened. Mike knew she heard him. Now for the fun part.

[brooklynlove]

Basie let her singing die away until she was barely moving her lips. The melody was still spinning through her head, and she felt her pulse quicken as another voice sang along with the tune. The voice was low and slightly gruff, yet it contained a rich, almost smooth quality and as Basie let the sound register, she was overcome with curiosity. A tightness still in her chest, she smothered the remaining terror, and turned stiffly around on the stool, searching the shadows.

Her eyes adjusted to the darkness that enveloped her, and after a moment, she could make out the slight form of a figure. Whoever it was carried themselves with an inerrant confidence, an air that Basie perceived as an almost haughty demeanor. She couldn't be quite certain, as she hadn't yet caught a glimpse of the face, but it seemed like a man. A young man, by the way he stood.

Turning back to the piano, she lowered her head and stared at her fingers, still on the keys. This was something new. Her secret was no longer a secret. This made part of her angry, yet it also awakened a strange curiosity that she hadn't felt in awhile. She was back to the darkness theory. You couldn't see, so you might as well step ahead and hope for the best. Basie spun off the stool, letting her feet touch to the cold floor before stepping all the way down. Her heart still pounding wildly, she made her way slowly across the darkened room to where the figure stood, wondering all the while just how he had known the French words to her song.

[Mike D. Greaser]

The words had more of an impact on Mike then he had thought or wanted. They were just simple words that flowed out of Mike’s mouth. But now, they meant so much more. At first, the song was just something Mike remembered as a vague memory. He thought it was just simply a song he knew from a show he had seen or something like that. But no, it was all coming back now. His mom used to sing it to him when he was younger. A vivid picture of her appeared in his mind and Mike had trouble controlling himself. He missed her. How she knew this song, Mike never knew. She used to say, “Michael, you need to stop asking questions and just listen to the song.” Mike laughed at the memory, stopping his singing completely.

He was pulled from his memories and back to reality as he heard soft footsteps. The girl was off her stool and was heading for him. His eyes were now fully adjusted to the dark and he smiled as the girl groped through the darkness towards. Strange how ones feelings toward a person can change within moments. The mischievous mood Mike was once in was now replaced with a feeling of…. Almost admiration. This girl was one of the few who could actually make him think back to his old life. Not that his old life was regrettable, no, the memories were simply to painful. He missed his parents so much, and he rarely liked to think about them. And people who made him think about them either made him want to kill them or hug them. Mike wasn’t completely sure about this girl.

One question haunts and hurts; to much, to much to mention. Mike cringed every time it came to mind. What would his parents think of him? Mike knew he was avenging them, punishing whoever had taken them from this world. But was he punishing the right people? He didn’t know for sure that the newsies were involved in the murder of his parents. He just assumed. And he didn’t blame them completely. They were just in his radar. He wanted revenge and the only way he knew how to do it was to make the newsies suffer. Mike knew he wasn’t blaming the right people; he never really blamed the newsies. He was just venting his anger and this was the only way he knew how.

Mike pushed aside these thoughts. This is what usually happened when he began to question his reasons. He did this often. When he first began his mission his reasons were so clear and real, Mike almost felt like he could reach out, grab them, and show them to the newsies. But now, as the days dances by, his reasons were getting more and more vague. Now he wasn’t even sure why he was doing what he was doing.

But one thing Mike knew, he wanted it. He wanted it so bad. Lately, Mike knew things had been slow; he had been slow. He was not the evil villain he used to be. He was the quiet one that stood in the background and waited for things to happen. But no more. No more. Mike didn’t care what his intentions were; they were not needed. He didn’t doubt his integrity; he just wanted it. And most of all, he didn’t think about his parents. They were in the past and not worth it.

Not worth it.

The girl moved closer and closer to Mike, and the admiration he felt quickly melted away and was replaced with anger. She had made him think back to his past. She had made him think about things that he did not want to think about. He had done so well about avoiding the elephant in the room and now she came along and ripped the blanket off the elephant, making it extremely hard for Mike to avoid it any longer. And she did this all with a song. A song that he had sung along to; Mike supposed that was his fault. This really was all his fault. He didn’t have to come in here in the first place.

Which reminded him….

Mike quickly moved backwards, farther into the darkness. His anger was gone, his admiration was gone, and all that was taken over by his mischievous mood he was in earlier. You could say Mike was covering up all his emotions and trying to have some fun, fake fun. Mike didn’t care. He could do what he wanted. Continuing to creep back, Mike had trouble not laughing. The girl would continue moving forward, unaware of where Mike had gone. She would walk right past him, giving Mike the opportunity to scare her to death.

Mike grinned like a Cheshire cat.

[brooklynlove]

The darkness was still dark, and Basie wondered bitterly how she could have appreciated it so much only a moment before. French words were dancing through the pages of her mind, accompanied by a haunting melody, twisting elegantly into a story that was about to unfold. Now that she was completely enveloped in darkness, Basie felt slightly uncomfortable. Not scared, but very vulnerable. The eerie light from the passageway cast long shadows against the opposite wall, flickering silently. Basie swallowed.

She kept walking. Why, she wasn't exactly certain, but now that she had come this far, what would be the point in going back? She almost certainly would feel more at risk moving in the opposite direction with her back to whoever was there. But then again, did she really know the whereabouts of this person? She had thought she did, but realized in sudden terror, that for all she knew, they could be standing just alongside her. She sucked in a cold breath.

How long had it been? She had no idea, but she wasn't enjoying the heavy silence that engulfed her. She thought for a second of speaking, singing, something to break the dead that surrounded her, but realized that the sound of her voice echoing through the walls would only make her feel even more empty. She felt very alone, yet very surrounded. There was that uncertainty again. Basie stretched out a hand, groping in the darkness.