Piano Scales

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Young Adult  |  House: Booksie Classic
Andy's only friend is his pet, who soon goes missing. We all just need someone to lean on, someone to keep us going.

Submitted: October 16, 2015

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Submitted: October 16, 2015

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Andy pulled into his house in the Palisades, the more wealthier part of Grownbay. His house was an old black and white two story house, paint chipping off, large staircase and living rooms. There was a huge black rote iron gate that goes around the huge plot of land. Andy’s plans of remodeling his house died right after his wife died of breast cancer the year prior. The only thing she gave him in her memory, was her dog, Bruno. A Pincher, a bit overweight and oinks like a pig when he runs. Andy got out of his car, and opened the passenger's side door, and Bruno came out running to the back of the car. Andy walked to the back door of the car, and opened it. He pulled out a big packet of dog food, and closed the door. Andy walked to his front door, and opened it. He went in with his dog and the dog went right to the piano on the bottom of the staircase. The piano was big, black and white, rusting and a bit discolored. Andy sat on a chair in front of the piano and began to play Ludovico Einaudi’s Nuvole Bianche, as Bruno ran around the piano.

 

Andy glanced over at Bruno running wildly around the piano and smiled as he heard a whisper come down from the top of the giant staircase.

 

“Andy? Andy I love you,” said a sweet voice as Andy stopped playing, Bruno stopped running.

 

Andy looked at the top of the staircase, and there she was. As beautiful as she looked like in her Chemotherapy sessions. She wore a white nightgown as she took slow steps down the staircase, looking at Andy, smiling. She began to sing Asleep by The Smiths, as Andy began to play the piano for her.

 

“Do you remember? We used to sing this song together,” she said smiling at him.

 

Andy smiled as she reached the bottom of the staircase, and walked towards him.

 

“I love you,” he said as she sat on his lap.

 

Bruno barked at the door, and Andy looked at the door and back at his wife who wasn’t sitting on his lap anymore. Andy got up, he knew who it was. He opened the door and Bruno ran out, it was the mailman. He was a young man, he was already married because of the ring on his finger.

 

“Here you go,” he said, “nice dog.”

 

“Thank you,” replied Andy as the man smiled and walked off, “make sure to close the gate.”

 

Andy looked at Bruno running around in the yard and went inside to cook dinner.

 

Andy finished by later that afternoon and went outside to call Bruno, who wasn’t around. Andy looked around and Bruno wasn’t there. Andy looked all around and even in the backyard, he decided to even look inside and he never found Bruno. He walked down the stairs and a gust of wind opened the front door, showing an open gate.

 

“That’s not right,” said Andy, “I told him to close it.”

 

Andy closed the front door and walked to the empty dining room. There was a plate ready on the large and empty dining table. He looked at an untouched dog bowl sitting right next to his chair as he began to eat. Slowly, loneliness was starting to overwhelm him as he could hear crickets starting to chirp around him. He kept tapping his hand on the table impatiently as he waited, waited and waited. He grew impatient and threw the plate of food against the wall. There was a short but cute laugh coming at the other end of the dining table and there she was, again, as beautiful as she looked before. She sat at the other end of the dining table, giggling, looking at Andy.

Andy went to a door on one side of the stairs, that lead down to his basement. He found a dull ax and a few dull hunting knives. He sat in front of a grindstone, and turned it on as he began to sharpen them to a fine sharp point that he tested by licking the edge, leaving a few droplets of blood on them. He pulled out a white tarp and rolled them up with the knives and ax in the middle. Andy hid it behind a couch in his living room, as he could hear the crickets chirping, and the faucet in the kitchen began to drip slow and lonely droplets of water. He sat on the couch and began to cry himself to sleep.

 

There was a headless body standing in front of Andy, squirting out blood. The body didn’t move, but it stood still.

 

“You’re crazy,” said a whisper.

 

Andy woke up early in the morning and looked out of the window in the living room, out looking his front yard and he stayed watching it until a few hours past midday. He decided to sit on the chair in front of the piano and began to slowly play scales.

 

“What are you doing?” asked a whisper.

 

Andy looked up to see her, smiling at him.

 

“You shouldn’t depend on people,” she said as she sat on top of the piano.

 

There was a knock on the front door and he knew who it was. He opened the door and there was the mailman, exhausted.

 

“You look exhausted, want to come in for a drink?” asked Andy.

 

“No,” he said exhausted, “I have to-”

 

“No, come on, this is my treat,” said Andy.

 

The mailman walked in as Andy closed the door behind him. Andy lead him to the wine room that several sorts of drinks: wine, beer, rum, vodka, anything and everything.

 

“What would you like?” asked Andy.

 

“Water, please.”

 

Andy poured water in a cup as he crushed a few pills in it and stirred it, put a few cubes of ice in the cup as he handed it to the mailman who drank it, fast.

 

“Are you married?” asked Andy.

 

“I’m just getting used to it. We got married a month ago,” said the mailman.

 

“Oh, really?”

 

“Yeah, what about you? You have a really big house, you must live with someone,” said the mailman.

 

“I-” said Andy taking a pause, looking at and old black and white photo of his wife sitting under the wine cabinets, “I used to live with my dog, Bruno.”

 

“Oh, I have a few dogs myself.”

 

“Then you know what having a man’s best friend feels like?”

 

“Yes, I have three dogs.”

 

“Do you know how it feels like to get them taken away from you?” asked Andy in a firm voice.

 

“What do you mean?” asked the mailman, confused.

 

“Never mind, want more water?”

 

“Yes please.”

 

Andy took the empty cup and crushed a few more pills in it, poured water and stirred it with a straw as he gave it back to the mailman.

 

“Do you like mailing?” asked Andy.

 

“It has its perks, like generous hospitality like yours.”

 

“Oh, that sounds great, really,” said Andy looking at the mailman’s eyes beginning to fade.

 

“I really… have.. go,” said the mailman as he tried to stand up.

 

“Mhm,” said Andy with a smile on his face, looking at the disoriented mailman.

 

The mailman grew weak and fell over. His eyes began to fade as he looked at Andy fading, standing over him.

 

Andy dragged his body to the bottom of the staircase. He went into the living room and pulled out the tarp, knives and the axe. He had a huge grin on his face as he dragged the mailman’s body onto the white tarp. He grabbed the sharpest and smallest knife. Andy knelt right next to his body, and looked at his closed eyes as he put the knife against the mailman’s throat, and sliced one quick and soft slice, leaving the mailman’s neck wide open, having blood gushing out. You can hear the mailman struggling to breathe from his neck as he opened his eyes, looking right into Andy’s eyes as he stabbed the mailman’s body several times, without stopping, slicing horizontal, vertical and just puncture wounds throughout his torso.

 

“Shhh,” said Andy covering the mailman’s mouth with one hand, “it’s your fault Bruno left.”

 

“Andy?” asked a whisper.

 

“What are you doing?” asked the whisper.

 

Andy was filled with a sense of regret as he stopped stabbing the mailman. He watched the mailman’s life roll right out of his body through the rolling of his eyes. Andy looked up to see his scared and frightened wife.

 

“I can fix this,” Andy said with bloody hands.

 

“You’re crazy, you’re fucking crazy,” she yelled at him.

 

“But I can fix this,” Andy said grabbing the ax.

 

Andy stood over the mailman’s body as he made a check swing on the mailman’s neck. He finally lifted the sharp ax with bloodstains, that had a shine on the tip of the blade from the sun, and let it fall. With one strike, Andy decapitated the mailman’s body. Blood squirt on Andy’s face and on a few pictures around there.

 

“You’re crazy,” his wife began to scream endlessly.

 

“Shut up, shut up, shut up,” said Andy striking the mailman’s body with more strikes to the mailman’s elbow, kneecaps, wrist and ankles.

 

“What are you doing?” yelled his wife.

 

“I’m trying to fix this!” yelled Andy looking at the mutilated body.

 

Andy dropped the ax as he examined the body. His wife began to cry and scream hard.

 

“Shut up, shut up,” said Andy, “it’s okay.”

 

Andy put his bloody hands through his hair. He heard a bark outside and ran to the door.

 

“Bruno?” he asked as he opened the front door.

 

There he was, sitting on the porch, oinking like a pig.

 

A few teardrops fell down his cheeks as he hugged Bruno.

 

“I love you,” said Andy, “don’t ever leave like that again.”

 

Andy closed the front door as he ran for the piano. The piano was big, black and white, rusting and a bit discolored. Andy sat on a chair in front of the piano and began to play Ludovico Einaudi’s Nuvole Bianche, as Bruno ran around the piano.

 

Andy glanced over at Bruno running wildly around the piano and smiled.


© Copyright 2019 Erick Inzunza. All rights reserved.

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