Watching Tanner play the guitar was absolute magic.
His fingers moved with a life beyond the simple impulses sent from brain to digits. They flew across the strings, sometimes slapping softly against the entire width of them, sometimes sliding up and down in a caress.
And Silas had an amazing voice. Drop dead gorgeous, lifting the ceilings until they didn’t even exist at all, until all that remained was the stars in the night sky beyond the building. I didn’t understand why he was singing in a bar in Lexington. I mean, the place was nicely decorated, the drinks mixed well, the tavern food really down-home delicious. But he could have been anywhere, on any stage. I guess some people are never given the luck of the draw, never seen by the right person at the right time to really break out into the industry.
Silas had a good overall look for mainstream music, too. The right sort of rocker gauntness to his face, the tousled come-hither hair, and the small, but defined body. It’s funny how familiar he looked, though I knew I’d never met him before the accident.
Next to Tanner though, he looked diminutive and too shadowed.
My eyes moved from the lead singer to find the guitarist I’d come here for. We looked at each other at the same time, our eyes meeting and we passed words back and forth in our gazes.
I wanted so badly to sing along to the cover they were doing. I was familiar with it; I’d sung it before myself on karaoke nights back in Dallas. I found myself trying to sign the words beneath the table, moving my fingers and getting little satisfaction from it. I couldn’t make noise with my hands, I couldn’t carry notes. I’d seen some interpreters do it, but I wasn’t learned enough for that, or talented enough.
By the end of the song, I had to stand up and walk out of the bar to get some air. I didn’t want Tanner to see me crying and feel bad for bringing me to the bar.
When I was outside, I stood beneath the stars in reality. They were muted by the ambient light of the city around me, but nonetheless beautiful. I cleaved to them, as if they were a security blanket. A comfort in gleaming, blinking repose against a black blanket that seemed to go on into forever.
“Laurie, are you okay?” I heard Tanner before I saw him. The music loudened as the door opened and closed, bringing him out into the evening air with me.
I wiped my eyes quickly with the flowy sleeve of my olive green peasant top and then I turned around, pushing my mouth into what I hoped was a pleasant smile. Hi. I waved. You guys sounded amazing. I love that last song.
“It’s one of my favorites. Took Silas some convincing since he’s not a fan.” Tanner, as was his habit, spoke and signed―fudging some of the words as he went. He looked like he wanted to say more, but he stopped himself.
Well, I love it. I love how it describes being free, even when you’re still caged. I had to finger spell cage. C-A-G-E-D. Finger spelling made it feel more important than it was, heavier in meaning. Trapped in silence. That was my cage.
“Was this a bad idea?” Tanner cocked his thumb back behind him over his shoulder and then signed ‘bad’ and ‘dream’ instead of ‘idea’.
Yes… and no. I admitted. I really miss singing. Of all the things I’ve lost, I think I miss that the most.
“More than Ross?” R-O-S-S. It seemed important to him, so I answered truthfully.
Yes… and no. He left me though, when I most needed him. He abandoned A-B-A-N-D-O-N-E-D me. No matter what I felt for him, still feel for him, that ruins it. There’s no going back.
Tanner looked at me for a moment and then he moved closer, so close that the brush of his clothing against my blouse caught my breath in my throat.
He didn’t sign this time. “I’d like to kiss you.”
I didn’t sign, either. I simply nodded.
My hip hurt a little, tightly bandaged though it was, as he pulled me closer to him. The ibuprofen constantly in my system kept it at a dull ache. The kiss was better than any medicine though.
It rushed through me, igniting each and every neuron, sending each and every vein into overdrive as my heart pumped furiously in my chest. The pain was gone completely, hidden beneath the euphoria of kissing him and him kissing me.
I’d been able to breathe on my own for a long time, since the tumor was removed. Now, though, it felt like I could not inhale or exhale. It was like I was no longer caged by silence, but caged by the kiss. And this cage I did not fight. This cage, I was content within because here, I could fly even with clipped wings.
I could sing even without a voice.
I could walk on two legs down the street holding Prince Eric’s hand.
And that’s what we did. We left the bar behind us and we walked the streets, which grew every more quiet as we moved further from the bar. And we talked. We talked until I thought my fingers might fall off. At one point, I asked Tanner won’t they miss you?
“They’ll survive,” he responded, and kissed me once more beneath a broken street light.