Tradewinds 16: Castaways: XVIII

The following evening, a gathering that was more than just another crowd had assembled at Bankshot for Twilight’s benefit concert.

Staged to help recover the cost of Danjo’s damage, folks from all over the Isle of Castaways chipped in. Money, furnishings, first aid supplies, a show of community each of them found impressive in their own way. A local physician repeatedly reminded Rod just how lucky he was: if Brad had twisted his elbow or wrist even a hair farther, he wouldn’t be playing guitar again anytime soon; weeks, possibly months, to say nothing of his career as a guitarist possibly over before it had rightly begun if they broke his hand.

Naturally, Rod promised not to overdo it tonight.

As Max made his way out onto the grounds, he found himself dwelling on how quickly he had grown accustomed to Ma’Quiver’s company, like the brother he never had. And, just as he could tell with his friends, how abruptly their new friend’s unexpected departure had left all three of them a little ill at ease. Even Bandit seemed less chipper, and Max hoped a fun night at Bankshot might cheer everyone up.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jillian stumble out from behind the ornate wooden arch framing the entrance, as well as a brief flash of palms behind her before they slipped back out of sight.

Even as he puzzled over this, she rushed up to him with a very urgent look on her face. But once she stood before him, she was all chagrin. Head down, bangs in her eyes, posture as if trying to shrink down into herself, yet she held her ground.

“Jillian?” Max wondered if he should have spoken, even as he opened his mouth.

“Please,” she said, voice so quiet he could barely hear her over the surrounding chatter, “you can call me Jill. Max, I…”

Max quietly waited for her gather her thoughts.

“Jillian!” Bruno called out from over near the door. Though injured, he insisted on helping out as much as he was able. “There you are! I need your help with the refreshments.”

For a moment, Jillian almost looked cornered, then she blurted, “I just wanted to let you know I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Thanks,” Max replied.

“So… when are you guys leaving?” Both more subdued, yet somehow more urgent.

“Probably in a few days,” Max told her, having already talked it over with his friends earlier. “The world is a big place. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover if we want to see it for ourselves.”

“Jillian!” Bruno called again, “The band’s gonna start any minute now!”

“Take care of yourself!” She bowed her head to him, quickly turning to follow Bruno, calling over her shoulder, “Enjoy the party!”

Max stood there for a long moment before asking Bandit, “What was that all about?” Only to be met with his feline friend’s usual quizzical aloofness at human behavior.

As he moved on to join his friends, who were already hanging out near the stage, he found a moment to wonder why that last conversation put him in mind of his childhood friend, Cleo. Though she and Jillian had next to nothing in common, he couldn’t help but ponder for a moment at what his old friend might be doing these days. From time to time, he thought about all of them, but at this moment, he was almost taken aback at his own unexpected curiosity about her in particular.

Feeling eyes on him, he looked up ahead to see Twyla rushing up on stage to join her bandmates, the last to arrive. Seeing Max, she grimaced for a moment, then shrugged. Picking up her sax, she spared one last glance at him, and a cryptic wink he suspected he would never get an explanation for even if he lived to be a hundred.

Found he remembered that about Cleo, too.

“Hey! There you are!” Shades remarked. “What took ya?”

“Well…” Max began, quickly finding himself at a loss for words.

“Never mind!” Justin cut him off, “The show’s about to start!”

Sure enough, now that the gang was all here, DJ took the stage, Twilight giving him an enthusiastic musical flourish as he thanked everyone for their support, and wished them a night of fun before he introduced the band.

Despite yesterday’s events still ringing in his ears, Justin still found an odd moment to wonder why meeting that crazy Felicia chick still lingered in his mind. In spite of happening just the day before, the whole experience still carried that oddly nostalgic haze his mind associated with his childhood travels aboard the Skerry. Especially his first meeting with Eleanor.

As the band started playing, his awkwardness gave way to remembrance, and he simply let himself drift away with the music of his first live concert.

Shades, on the other hand, couldn’t help but feel nostalgic for Rod’s new tune, for to him it was anything but, bringing back memories of his Zero Hunter days, and of Amy.

A wonderful vision of Twilight— or at least a vaguely similar band with Rod on guitar— playing a full concert in a dream he had as a kid. Including “The Song”— which he would not get to hear again for many years, at a club somewhere in another dimension. A victory celebration, he remembered that much, and other Resistance members were there, including Amy.

Who sometimes hummed it in the waking world. Of course, he had too, for days after, but eventually lost the tune. A song that, much to his confusion, just didn’t seem to exist.

Only to find out, years later, that Rod was trying to make a real song out of it. The other day, when he caught up with Rod, meaning to ask him more about the Resistance, instead found himself being asked what he could remember about The Song. An irony unto itself, given that Shades had once tried to remember it already, for John and Sandy. Rod went on to tell of a dream he had that Shades also recalled from his Zero Hunter days, strumming it for him.

Neither of them had a name for it, yet though it was stuck in their heads for days after, neither could recall any of the lyrics, either. Rod’s side of the story both puzzling and amusing, how he had never played guitar before. Don’t know how I was doin’ it, he remarked, but I sounded pretty damn good! How, after the show, he fell down the stairs backstage, hitting his head and “forgetting” how to play as mysteriously as he had “known” how to in the first place.

The whole experience was what inspired him to take up the guitar in the first place.

Shades’ side of the story perplexing, as he was half-sure he remembered Amy singing it once, now that he thought about it, and all he recalled was how melodic her voice sounded, rather than the words themselves. Twilight’s new song remained an instrumental for now, yet even its barest harmony made a strong impression on those gathered here. Rod hoped the experience of playing it live might jog his memory of that dream.

And The Song went on, live for the first time ever in the waking world, Shades was sure his friend would remember, in this place of light and song.