Shaun

            You would have thought that losing Christian’d be different than losing a real human being. I did. I thought that. I was never really worried. For me, it was: “Well, if anything ever happens, it’ll be okay. He’s not really human, is he?”

            It sounds nasty, but what else was I supposed to think? None of us could get too close to Christian, not with everything that was going on. It wasn’t safe. It wasn’t safe for our minds. If Christian got caught and anyone had gotten too close to him, it’d be like losing a real friend. And the risks of Christian getting caught were higher than the Empire State Building. Our school was teeming with people out to get him. Teeming with them. Teachers, mostly; the custodial staff, too, even some juniors and seniors. Everyone.

            Too many risks for us to dare getting close to Christian. We all tried to stay apart. He was just another guy, another faceless name who sometimes got solos and played pretty well. Just another musician, that was all Christian was. That was all he could be.

            Now that we’ve lost him, I think we all realize that staying apart from him never would have worked. He wormed into our minds like … I dunno, like water seeping under a door or something. Gradually, he just … he got in our heads, got in our hearts, I guess, and he stayed there. I think everyone’ll say the same. We tried to keep away from him, but it didn’t work. Never could have. Not the way Christian was.

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Logan

            It was always hard for me to hear him play. I sat on the other side of the band room – with the saxes and clarinets. We had the trumpets on our left, and they blocked all the sound Christian’s instrument could put out. I never paid attention to him during class. He was sort of just there, sitting where he always sat. he never said anything. He couldn’t, of course. He just sat and listened.

            Mr. Strickland liked him, I think. He often gave him solos; I think Christian liked that, too. he’d always play like he put his heart and soul into the music. I don’t know why. I’d have rather been still sleeping than in the band room at that hour, but he truly seemed to love it. It’s probably because he doesn’t have much else he can enjoy – this is one of the few things he can … he could … do without being scared something bad would happen. I don’t know how he existed that way, always living in fear, but he seemed to do pretty well. I’d crack under the strain. I dunno. Maybe he just can’t crack; maybe it’s impossible. I guess maybe, someday, I might have worked up the nerve to ask him. I can’t anymore.

            It brings a line of a song to mind … I don’t know what it’s called for sure, but it’s by Counting Crows, I think … “Don't it always seem to go, that you don't know what you got till it's gone” …

            So maybe we don’t miss the musician Christian was, or even the silent presence that always sat there in the band room – every day, never missing one practice – but we sure miss something about him. I just don’t know if anyone here knows what it is.

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Luke

            I came into the band in the middle of the year after I transferred from my old school to this one. It was all really new – the people, the music – and at first I was a little lost. But then I started warming up to it, and the thing that really hooked me was the piano. I’d never heard piano played like that before; I’d always heard classical stuff, never jazz like Christian played. And for a long time, I didn’t even know who was playing it.

            I’m one of the shorter ones in the jazz band, and I stood behind Shaundra, who has to be at least a foot taller than me. She’s a swell flautist, but she should not be allowed to be that tall.

            I couldn’t see anything around her except Mr. Strickland, and that only because I was half-turned to see around her. But Strickland was all I could see – nobody else. I could hear, though; the flutes were right next to the piano. It was really easy to hear Christian play – and he could play, no doubt about it. I often wished I could be that good, but I never had the attention span to actually get started. So I contented myself with listening to him.

            But I could never see him, and whenever I finally got my instrument packed away after class and looked up, he was gone. Of course, when I left the room, I’d begin to hear music drift out behind me. Christian was always like that; he had an … interesting … sense of humor.

            Somehow, I feel bad that I didn’t try to at least catch him playing by himself at least once. I’d’ve loved to hear him play on his own. But I never got to; I missed out. All I can do now is ask Bekkah, again and again, “what did he sound like?” Bekks is awesome; she always answers patiently, even though she knows I’ll ask her again, and again, and again after that. But what else can I do? I’ve never heard piano played quite like that since. And she’s the only one who got to hear him up close.

            She has a brave streak. I don’t.

            And sometimes I ask myself if the only thing I liked Christian for was his piano-playing. And that question makes me extremely uncomfortable. I knew Christian, sort of. But he couldn’t talk, so there was never much conversation. Sometimes, he’d help someone pick up something they’d dropped. That was only sometimes though. A lot of the time, he was quiet and moody and in a temper, and then he wouldn’t do anything – just sit and play his music. I don’t know. He was enigmatic to the max. Nobody could quite figure him out. I think most people just thought of him as the pianist and not much more, except maybe Matt and Bekks. But they take the time to read between the lines. Most of the rest of us don’t bother.

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Matt

            A lot of people were fascinated by Christian’s music. I was never a big music person, though. I was in the band because my mom wanted me to be, and that was all. If she’d said I could leave the band, I would. But she loved music and loved that I could play it, so I stayed.

            I didn’t like Chris for his music. For me, the jazz piano was just … just strange. It sounded odd to me, and I didn’t like it. So at first, I just thought he was weird.

            But didn’t everyone? I mean – someone like him is bound to get called weird by a lot of people. Not everyone can look at someone like him and go “oh, well, he’s just normal.” I couldn’t.

            But slowly, I got to change my opinion. I’d stay a lot after class trying to get my trombone into my locker; it was always a little difficult for me because my locker is really high up. At first, he'd just sit over by the piano and watch me, and it made me mad. He didn’t come help – just sat there.

            Then one day he came over to help. I didn’t even know he’d be able to pick the thing up – I honestly thought he wouldn’t be able to. But he did. He picked one end of the case up and I picked up the other, and together we heaved it into the locker. He gave me a grin and walked away before I could say thanks. He was weird like that.

            It became kind of a routine for us. He'd help me with my instrument, give me a little smile and then walk away. Sometimes he’d stay long enough to give me a chance to thank him, but that wasn’t too often.

            There were only a couple times he didn’t come and help me. Those days, he would sit on the piano bench and play, as fast as he possibly could and ignore me completely. Sometimes Bekks would come and help me with the trombone when he was in that kind of a mood, but more often than not she was fascinated by Christian’s playing and ignored me too. A lot of times, that was what happened when Chris played. People were transfixed until he finished.

            I don’t know what made him that way. I don’t know why he was so happy some days and so incredibly mad and moody other days, but there was no real pattern to it. And even though he could be kind of a jerk sometimes, nobody ever faulted him for it. And now that I think about it – how could they? How could we? I mean – I’d be moody, too, if half the population of my erstwhile school was out to get me. I don’t think I’d’ve dealt with it as well as he did, actually.

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Rebekkah

            Apart from Matthew, I don’t think anyone really tried to talk to Christian. They loved his music and some of them were fascinated by he himself – but nobody ever tried to talk to him. A lot of people stayed after band class to hear him play, but that was all.

            I think I was projecting my emotions onto him when I thought he’d be lonely. Well, if nobody ever talked to me and the whole school was trying to destroy me, I’d be lonely too. So I made it a point to try and talk to him. On those days when he wasn’t helping Matthew with his trombone, I would approach him and try to strike up conversation.

            Sometimes, it was a simple “Hey.” Other times, it was “What’s up,” “How’re you,” or even “You got a class after this or is it a study hall?” He never really answered. Not verbally, anyway – I didn’t know he couldn’t talk till much later. I guess I should have supposed something, but I didn’t.

            He’d nod and shake his head and shrug at me, and he’d motion with his hands, but he never spoke a word. Somehow, I could almost understand him though. Sometimes he’d give me a smile, and it was mostly on those days when he was in a better mood than usual; but often times he’d just look at me like I was doing something he desperately wished to do but couldn’t. It was speaking, probably, but now I guess I’ll never know.

            Before, I could never tell why I didn’t give up on Christian. He never spoke back, but I never gave up. Now, well … Whenever I was near him, my stomach would gain this slightly queasy feeling that wasn’t altogether unpleasant. And I’d always want to grin and laugh when I was near him – I don’t know why. I’d linger extra time after band class to try and catch him by himself, to be able to talk to him. My stomach would flutter (I can’t describe it any better than that) when I was near him.

            Now, I can’t believe I was crushing on someone like Christian. I mean – people think it’s bad enough to be crushing on one of the popular guys when you’re a total outcast … They think it’s bad if they’re crushing on someone older or younger than them. But someone like Christian? It wasn’t possible … Totally implausible. But I guess love doesn’t care. Maybe it has a sense of humor and just thought making me crush on someone like Christian was funny.

            Not to me. I mean … He was in such danger of being destroyed, for one thing … And the difference in being was totally impossible to overcome. It was all so impossible, but I still had that dumb school-girl crush on him when he was caught. Even knowing who he was – what he was – I couldn’t help but cry.

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Brook

            Christian was an amazing pianist, and that’s what I adored him for. But I still can’t believe I didn’t find out what he was till the end. Nobody thought to tell me – the blind girl – what he was, and I never thought to ask. For all I knew, Christian was a reclusive guy and by far the best pianist I’d ever come across. I never had the nerve to strike up a conversation … But many a day, after practice, I’d hear him playing while I was putting stuff away in the locker room. I’d stash my things and lean casually against the doorframe, and I’d listen to him play. It seemed always to be the same song, and I didn’t know what it was called. A little repetitive, but for me, it never got old. I listened to it so much over that year that I could hum it by heart by year’s end. The switches in tempo didn’t irk me as changes in tempo usually do – they made it seem ever more amazing to me. Every day he played I would stay and listen.

            And I never new what he was until after the fact.

            It was very near the end of the school year when Mr. Strickland made the announcement. I’d noticed that Christian was absent that day (I hadn’t heard his piano at all and figured he was sick), and Mr. Strickland’s announcement confirmed things.

            “I have news,” he reported before the band class began. “It’s about Christian.” I knew everyone was looking at the piano where he usually sat, even though I couldn’t see them. I turned my head, too.

            “What about him?” Luke piped up from off to my right where the flutes stood. “He’s just sick today, right?”

            “He can’t get sick,” snapped Rebekkah from the other side of the room. “You should know that.”

            “Rebekkah’s right,” continued Mr. Strickland. “Yesterday Christian was in the band room late, playing. I’d gone out for a moment and when I returned he wasn’t there.” Silence fell, and it seemed like everyone was holding their breath. Why, I don’t know. “I asked around,” Mr. Strickland said. “Some of the seniors were looking for me in the room yesterday, and they found Christian playing … He didn’t hear them coming. They were members of the … What do they call themselves? The annihilation force?”

            Matt let out a slight, hysterical-sounding laugh. “That’s it,” he said. “That’s what they call themselves. Really unoriginal…” He trailed off.

            “The annihilation force?” I spoke up. “They hunt ghosts. What do they have to do with Christian?” The room went quiet. Finally, my friend Derek spoke up from the left.

            “I … didn’t tell her?” He tried weakly.

            “Why?”

            “Well … She never asked and she didn’t even ever talk to him. I figured it wasn’t a big deal …”

            “Even she could have helped cover him up,” said Matt. “You should have told her.” I didn’t like being talked about like this, but I kept quiet, waiting, confused.

            “Well …” Mr. Strickland began. “Christian was one of the spirits hiding out around the school. That’s what the annihilation force had to do with him.”

            “And nobody told me?”

            It was at this point that I heard someone leave the room hurriedly. “Bekks?” Called Shaundra from the other side of the room. Why Rebekkah had taken off I didn’t know but I really didn’t care either.

            And I don’t know why Christian’s being a ghost upset me so much, either. He was a great pianist, and maybe that’s why I was upset when he was taken away. I don’t know. Something though, something got into all of us when we heard the news. We canceled practice that day and wandered the halls aimlessly. Once, I heard one of the members of the AF pass me by, and for some reason I wanted to whack him around the ankles with my cane. I don’t even know why – I didn’t know Christian. But something made me so mad, listening to him walk by me…

            It made the others angry, too. Derek got suspended for punching one of the AF members when he walked by her in the hall. Shaun told me later that Bekkah wouldn’t look any AF in the face that day, be they teacher or student. None of us knew why.

            But something made us unspeakably mad at the AF after Christian was caught. Everyone else tried their best to stay aloof from him, but he wormed his way into all of our minds and hearts – even mine, though I didn’t know what he was – and he stayed there. And the only one who has managed to figure out why he was so important to her is Bekkah. The rest of us are still remembering his music, his smiles, his helpful nature, his silence, and wondering why the hell we can’t let go.

            But still, even though every day we wonder why we can’t just forget him, none of us are sure we even want to let him go at all.