Young Writers Society

Lamplight

This story is dedicated to Stephanie and Abigail, who helped me edit.

“Thank you again for coming.” Kira said as the carriage screeched to a halt, leaving them lurching forward in their seats. There was a sound of creaking wood as the driver clambered down.

“Oh we wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Irene answered as the lacquered carriage door squeaked open to reveal the music hall, cloaked in the liquid shadows of twilight. “You’re a wonderful composer.” She said gesturing for Kira to leave first. Edward took her hand and led her down the steep steps.

“That’s not how I remember you acting when I showed you my last aria, you looked as if I’d just asked you to fire a cannon.” She shot back. Irene let out a short laugh as John led her down the steps.

There was a moment of silence as they walked towards the double doored entrance of the music hall. Kira took a moment to look down at her necklace, a teardrop amethyst on a silver chain that rose and fell with the black velvet bosom of her dress, both in counterpoint to her blond hair and gray fur coat. Her contemplation was cut short by loudly scuffling footsteps.

“Did you hear that?” She asked.

“Probably nothing.” Edward said, nodding as he rubbed the silver handle of his revolver. She opened the door and stepped into the comfortably lit hallway, followed shortly by Edward, then John and Irene. The halls were mostly empty. It seemed that most of the attendees had already seated themselves. Kira could hear the cacophony of the orchestra preparing.

“Are you worried?” Irene asked as they walked quietly to the stairs leading up to the box. Kira shook her head and lead the way up the stairs

“My only worry is that the conductor might drive things too fast,” Kira answered as they walked up the stairs “the choreography is already difficult, the dancer doesn’t need any more trouble.” She finished as they stepped into the box. It was lavishly bare, with four thronelike oak chairs separated into pairs by an ornately carved chess table.

“Care for a game?” Edward asked as he followed Kira to their seats. John shrugged as he sat with Irene on the opposite side of the chessboard. The two began taking out the pieces as the auditorium quieted. Edward set up the simple ivory pieces while John set out the ebony ones. Edward was about to make the first move when the room went silent.

Kira couldn’t help but smile when the conductor walked onstage and introduced the piece. She barely noticed Edward clasping her hand as he looked down at the stage with her. The conductor looked to be in his late forties with wild graying hair that gave him a thunderstruck look.

“I don’t remember this being in rehearsal.” Edward remarked in a whisper as the conductor rambled on. Kira nodded. Her annoyance subsided once the conductor had stopped rattling on and stepped off the stage to courteous applause. The dancer, a young woman in a tight red dress took his place on the stage to much stronger applause.

Kira’s heart leapt as the viols struck a chord fortissimo and held, quieting with each crescendo of the suspended cymbal. Not taking her eyes of the dancer, she took out her notebook and began scribbling. She lost herself in the music and it seemed too soon when the intermission came. She looked down at her notebook, she was surprised at how many pages she had filled. She rose from her seat with Edward, shortly followed by Irene and John. When she entered the hallway Kira was surprised at how few people were out. She nodded absently when Edward and John excused themselves to the restrooms. She and Irene continued until they walked out into the cold night air. She put her note- book away in an inner pocket, taking out a long stemmed cigarette in the same movement.

“Do you mind?” She asked. Irene paused a moment, then shook her head.

“Just make sure the smoke doesn’t come near me.” She said, “I don’t get paid for standing on stages and talking.” She joked as Kira lit her cigarette with a thought. It took slightly more focus to keep the smoke away, but she still managed conversation. “What do you think of that dancer?” Irene asked after a moment.

“I’m happy I managed to get her,” Kira answered, “ I saw her in one of my other works —Nightfall I think. I liked her in that so I put in a request for her. I was surprised when we actually got her, she’s not local.” She paused for a moment to take a draw from her cigarette. She opened her mouth to say something, but the sound of scuffling footsteps cut her off. She let the smoke escape her lungs. “Did you hear that?” she whispered. Irene nodded.

“What d’you think is taking them so long?” she asked with forced ease.

“Oh you know them,” Kira answered, equally forced “probably started a chess game with someone they met during the war.” Irene gave a real chuckle at that.

“Maybe.” she answered as the door creaked open, streaking light down the stairs in an irregular line framed by two shadows. Edward didn’t need to say anything. Kira snuffed out her cigarette with a thought and tossed onto the cobblestones before walking up the stairs.

“Has it started up again?” Kira asked. Edward shook his head as they made their way to the box. John and Edward resumes their chess game as soon as they were close enough to the board, Edward moving a pawn forward before he had fully sat down.

Kira took out her notebook as she waited for the intermission to end. Flipping to an empty page, she hummed to herself as she briefly sketched out an aria. She flipped back to her notes when the conductor took the stage formally announced the intermission’s end.

“About time,” Edward muttered, “he didn’t wait this long in rehearsal, what’s he think he’s doing?” Kira let out a sound of agreement.

“How many acts are there?” Irene asked carelessly from her seat at the other end of the row. Her head was resting on a hand raised lazily on the padded armrest.

“Two.” Kira answered, too busy scribbling out barely legible notes to fully pay attention to the question. She only half listened to her piece until the end. She was giddy at the sight of the dancer, twirling and leaping in a furious blur of red to the metallic thunder of the cymbals.

“Too drawn out.” She heard Edward whisper. Kira rolled her eyes as she scribbled in her notebook. It ended abruptly with the dancer striking a pose in the center of the stage, surrounded by others in stark shades of black and white.

Silence rang out for a moment before being broken by an uproar of applause. Kira sighed as the dancers bowed.

“I could’ve done better.” John muttered, barely loud enough to be heard over the applause. Kira shot him a sidelong look. In the corner of her eye she saw edward purse his lips.

“What now?” Irene asked when the applause had quieted from thunder to rain. Kira shrugged as Edward and John began putting the chess pieces away.

“Dinner?” she suggested. The began debating once the two men had put way the chess pieces. About twenty minutes later they had agreed on a restaurant across the street from the concert hall.

When Kira had led the group out of the box, she found that it was silent. Hopefully the doors aren’t locked. She thought. It was an unnecessary worry, the doors creaked open just as they always had. They walked out into the night, it was quiet with a subtle chill. There were perhaps two carriages other than their own, a boxy, black painted affair guarded by the board looking driver. Two brown horses knickered in the front.

“We’re going to dinner.” Kira said, handing him a tip. “Stay here and I’ll pay you again.” she said. The driver nodded and went back to leaning against the side of the cage. They talked idly as they walked to the lamplit end of the sidewalk.

They stopped their conversation for a moment at the end of the street before crossing. They continued when they reached the other side of the road. Kira paused mid step at the sound of scuffling footsteps.

“Those damned footsteps.” Edward muttered.

“Let’s just go and eat.” Irene sighed. Her sudden exhaustion surprised Kira as they continued to the restaurant in silence.

It wasn’t a hard building to spot, the only one with any kind of light on the block. The golden light pouring out of the uncurtained windows pours out into the street, making the gamers flickering in the lamps seem pitiful.

Edward led them into a large lobby, lit by a three tiered chandelier hung with shimmering glass crystals. The crystals cast strange rainbow streaks on the red carpet. Kira wondered at them as she drifted with Irene to the right of the two worn couches that sat on either side of the lobby. Kira looked up from the multicolored streaks lazily and watched Edward converse with the attendant. She was a pretty young woman with brown hair, Kira guesses she was in her mid twenties. After perhaps a minute of talking, Edward turned with a nod and went to sit with John.

Kira brought her notebook out when Edward had sat down. She flipped through the pages, stopping briefly at one or two points to review notes for upcoming pieces. She showed her sketched out aria to Irene.

“Do you think someone could sing this?” She asked. Irene squinted at the page and began humming quietly over the sketch. She nodded.

“It wouldn’t be easy,” She answered, “but a decent singer could manage it.” She added, handing Kira her notebook. Kira kept the book open and hummed to herself as she added to the sketch.

She didn’t know how much time had passed when a pair of pressed gray pants at the top of her vision jarred her out of her world of melodies. She looked up into the brown eyes of attendant.

“If you’ll just come with me.” She said, every part of her voice and manner perfectly polite. Kira and Irene nodded as they stood and followed her to the center, where they met with Edward and John. They followed the attendant single file to a leather cushioned booth near the back. “Do you need anything?” The attendant asked once the had all seated themselves. They all shook their heads. With a curt nod the attendant spun like a dancer and left. She had only been gone for perhaps two minutes when the waiter arrived and took their orders for drinks.

“I’ll have red wine.” Kira answered. Edward seconded the order as the waiter moved to the side to allow an underling to pass by.

“I’ll have whisky.” John said.

“I’ll have white wine.” Irene answered with a resigned look. “I was thinking of ordering water.” She admitted sheepishly.

“Always better safe than sorry.” John joked, Irene glared at him.

“Certainly.” She answered coldly, still glaring around.

“Do you have any concerts coming up?” Edward asked, looking over at John.

“I’ve been true go to get the concert hall to do a short run of ‘Aurora’, but I haven’t made much progress.” He answered.

“Mainly because I insist on playing Sarah,” Irene cut in “though I can’t say I blame them, after last time…” she trailed off.

“I don’t know why,” John said, sliding closer to her, “you’ve cleaned up since then.” He said. Irene gave him a loving look, but said nothing. The drinks came after a few minutes of silence.

“May I take your orders?” the waiter asked once the drinks had been set in their places with the dull clinks of glass on wood. They all gave their orders for various semi-exotic foods. Kira was the first to take a sip of her drink, as the wine went down her throat she realized how thirsty she was. They sat in comfortable silence, usually sighing briefly between sips.

“Are you working on any articles?” John asked, looking over his quarter full whisky glass at Edward.

“Two,” Edward answered “due the day after tomorrow, one due in about a week from now for this month’s issue of ‘studies of contemporary music,’” he paused a moment to delicately finish his wine, “on Kira’s work actually, I’m doing an introduction and analysis for Nightfall.”

“He won’t let me talk to him about it,” Kira chimed in after putting her wine glass down “something about ‘interfering with his interpretation’ or some such, I don’t quite understand.” She finished, her voice shimmering on the edge of laughter. Irene let out a quiet giggle.

“I know I asked earlier, but do you have any concerts coming up?” Edward asked. John nodded.

“Other than that attempt to ge a showing of Aurora, I’ve got two concerts, one in a week, one in three weeks, and,” he paused for effect, “I managed to get someone to finance a short run of ‘Snowbird’!” He smiled slightly at the look of childish glee on Kira’s face.

“Really?” She asked, an eager child with a childish grin. “What day?” she asked. John smiled and nodded at Edward.

“It starts on your birthday.” He said, smiling.

“Thank you!” She said, a little too loudly, before kissing him. She took a deep breath and regained her composure. “Hopefully it’s as good as I remember,” she said in a quieter voice, “I’ll need to do some revisions,” she continued, trying her best to avoid getting swept up in her emotions “I’ve gotten better since then.”

Casual conversation resumed soon after, and by the time their dinner arrived they were talking freely, flowing from topic to topic lazily. The plates being placed in front of them had cut off their conversation about recent publications, John and Edward diverting considerably into talk of possible wars. There was a comfortable silence as they ate.

By the end of her meal Kira was quite full, but she called for a small desert anyway. The others did the same, they paid the bill and left, full and laughing. The cold cleared Kira’s head. It was almost midnight and she could sense that her day was about to come bearing down on her. Her heart stopped when she heard scuffling footsteps somewhere to her right. As the door closed behind her someone walked out, bumping into her with a muttered apology. Instinctively she patted the pockets of her coat.

“Hey!” She shouted at the thief. He ran faster as she gave chase, followed quickly by Edward. The man was a shadow among shadows, silhouetted by the lamplight. Kira was barely able to see him as he tore down an alleyway. She stopped sharply at the alley entrance and saw there was someone with him, younger and slightly hunched. “Give me my notebook,” she ordered. They showed no signs of compliance. As Edward came at the entrance of the alley. When she realized what might happen, it was all she could do not to shake.

“Here,” she said, her voice quaking as she undid her necklace with shaky hands “You can have this, just give me back my notebook.” She held it up by its silver chain close to her chest.

She barely registered that the younger thief had a gun before a shot rang out like thunder. She realized dimly that she wasn’t dead as Edward shot back. There was a scream of pain quickly followed by a sound of terror from the older thief. Kira’s hands went slack, her necklace clattered to the ground with a sound like metallic rain. The older thief put his hands up. His left held her notebook.

“No sudden movements!” Edward barked. The thief nodded shakily.

“H-here,” he stuttered, bringing his left hand down. Kira never let her eyes off the thief as she took the notebook. The thief’s eyes flashed and out of her periphery she could see his hand fly down. By the time she processed the movement another shot thundered out. There was blood on her dress. She Lept back in a daze. When she was sure of her feet she bent down and picked up her notebook and her necklace. It was an effort to bring herself back up. She stumbled over to Edward, he put her arm around his neck and they walked back into the street. Her breathing steadied as she distanced from the alley. By the time she was perhaps twenty feet from Irene and John she was walking on her own. Irene was startled and breathing deeply. John was stony calm.

“Are they dead?” John asked. Edward nodded.

“We heard gunshots!” Irene exclaimed in frenetic hushed voice. “Are you hurt?” she breathed.

“No,” Kira answered, a hoarse whisper.

“Should we report it?” John asked, ignorant of her conversation. Edward shook his head a second time. “The newspapers’ll have a ball with this either way, better that we’re not in the crosshairs. Anyways, the police’ll rule it self defense, I think.” he added as they began to walk. Back to the concert hall.

“I still can’t believe what just happened,” Irene said as they crossed the street.

When they reached the carriage their driver asked no questions. Kira thought a reasonable man ought to have asked. Edward paid him this time and they boarded. Kira sighed and slumped in her seat and dropped her head on Edward’s shoulder and the carriage lurched forward and turned. Even as she tried to push the affair from her mind, it was hard to ignore the bodies slumped in the alley, lit by the flickering, moonish, lamplight.