“A deal?” asked the boy.

“Certainly. ‘Give and take’, so to speak.”

The boy seemed dubious.

“Nothin’ I really want,” said the boy. He then whispered, “I hear them saying I won’t around much longer.”

“Do you want to be?”

The boy shrugged, glancing around his hospital room.

“I’ve read in books that it’s fun outside,” he said slowly.

“So you want to go outside?”

“I want to be around longer,” said the boy.

“How much longer?”

“Long enough to see everything!” he replied. “Well, at least until I’ve had enough,” he amended quickly, remembering his manners about not being too greedy.

“I understand.”

——————————————–

“You never told me what you wanted, all those years ago,” he said mildly.

“You never asked.”

“Well I’m asking now: what is it you wanted?” he questioned.

“Perhaps I already received it.”

“Now, THAT is curious,” he observed, glancing down at the black and white keys.

“Having a difficult time?”

He grimaced, “The music is easy and I love it, but I’m playing it for her tomorrow. I don’t want to mess up.”

“I understand.”

“Do you even play an instrument?” he asked, amused at the idea.

“I played the trumpet a long time ago. It was my Father’s idea.”

He made a pencil mark on the score sheets, and dexterously flicked a trill with his fingers, nodding to himself.

“Trumpets are nice. They make good music. Another good friend of mine plays the trumpet for the band, you know.”

“I concur. Except, when you play in a band it is sometimes too obvious when one is not playing along with the rest.”

He laughed at that. “And that is why I play solo piano. No one to match up with! No one to follow!”

“May you succeed tomorrow.”

————

“I just… sometimes wonder if playing for her isn’t enough anymore.”

“Why would you think that?”

“I think she just wants something more…you know. Tangible.”

“I believe women like having gifts that they can show to their friends.”

He sighed, laying his arm over his eyes.

“Well that just means I’ll have to get better, won’t I?” he vowed.

“Well, you have lots of time.”

——————–

The night rang with the soft melodies of the piano as he practiced throughout the night.

“Get some rest. You’ve a big day tomorrow.”

He played on and on, barely even glancing at the groom’s tuxedo that hung in the living room.

“I believe you already committed it to heart when you wrote it for this event.”

Slowly, his fingers stopped playing.

“Perhaps you’re right,” he said, grimacing and flexing his fingers. “I’ve practiced so much I can barely feel my fingers anymore.”

“Get some rest in.”

“Goodnight.”

——————-

“Did you know that excessive drinking is considered Gluttony, one of the seven deadly sins?”

He decided to play deaf.

“And so is excessive lazing about. It’s considered Sloth.”

He threw the empty bottle at the wall, but missed.

“You are injured.”

“Go away.”

“You are bleeding.”

“I said go away.”

“If you do not stem the wound, your fingers will only -”

“Are you truly worried about my fingers?” he asked softly.

“I don’t understand the question.”

“You took it from me, didn’t you? Is that what you wanted all this time?”

“You are mistaken. I have never taken anything from you.”

He pounded the wall with a clenched fist but winced as his fingers burned with pain. “Then why? Why is it like this?!”

“It is the natural order of things.”

As the tears rolled slowly down his cheeks, he tucked his knees to his chest. He looked up slowly.

“Before I go, you should still tell me what it is you wanted to take, after all these years.”

“Soon.”

————————————-

As he watched his body swing to and fro in the hazy dust, he was finally relaxed.

“Give and take, after all.”

Thank you.