The protector

Secrets

Chapter 8

The city had passed hours ago as we drive down a empty two lane highway. Endless trees and fields greet us but quickly vanish from our side.

The sun still beats down on the open land with an angry glare. The engine makes an odd pop sound every other minute as this death machine rumbles forward.

It makes me feel even more uncomfortable. I drag my finger across the side of my seat, a loose thread catches my attention and I pick at it with anger as if that little lifeless piece of string had some how wronged me. I can not stop my fidgety hands as the thread rips free from the seat.

I open the window and let a small amount of air through the crack I watch as birds swoop down from the sky and grab something from the wheat fields. Their tall brown stems swaying in the slight breeze.

White picket fences running away as we drove faster down the barren motorway.

Sighing I stretch out my cramped legs and look out the front window. The same black tar ahead of us. "When are we going to finally get there?" I grumble as the hundredth white fence slides by the the rusted baby blue truck.

"We have some time till we get there." He says as he shifts his hands on the steering wheel as the road curves a little to make a slight bend.

The black leather of the wheel scratches away as his strong hands glide over the sides.

I look at the little black box with its weird little black knobs that sit in the center of the car between the two seats.

Moving my hand towards the buttons I click one softly.

A voice screams thorough the odd black box making me scream loudly and I quickly press the knob again which makes the sound stop. "What the hell was that!"

Alex chuckles. "It was music." My mouth pops open as I stare at the black box. "That was most defiantly not music." I screech as I glare at the box.

"That was someone screaming. People call that music. Hog wash." He full out laughs and then a snorts leaves his mouth.

"Well it is music." he says as he makes another slight turn.

"Was not. Where I am from music is made with flutes and the power of someone voice. Not there crazy screams." I say angrily as I place my hands in my lap. The string I pulled from the seat sits limply on my lap.

The slight memory of my home flashes across my inner eyes before quickly vanishing.

"Really. Tell me about it." He says as his eyes glide over the road.

I smile and watch the passing trees. "Beautiful, amazing, and magnificent." I say loudly as I picture the soft sound of the cello and the beat of the drums.

"We all used to gather outside in the gardens. Where roses spring year round and the lake never froze over. Always the same. Magic of course. Good old magic." A smile touches my lips.

"Everyone would sit down and there was a stage that everyone could perform on. Ivy would climb up the sides of the pillars and dangle from the top. Live music would be played every Sunday. All day long.."

"The birds would sometimes join. Signing their soft melodies. Well as I was saying. everyone would get a chance to play an instrument or sing."

I look over at Alex and see a smile lifting onto his face. "The music was amazing, so graceful. But the part that I always remember was how when you where done everyone would stand up and applaud with wide smiles on their face."

I smile as I end my little story. "As I was saying that was not music." That horrible screaming still fresh in my now ruined ears.

He nods. "So would you ever get on that stage." I grin and remember myself stepping onto that stage for the first time and watching everyone stare at me.