muscle memory.

prologue

The Battle of Bougainville
March 8, 1944
Solomon Islands

      The shock from the blast vibrated underneath the young soldier's body from where he was curled up inside of the foxhole. His ears started to ring as he lifted his head, hands clawing at the soaked mud to pull him out. A film of black soot covered everything that had once been there. The soldier stilled, his ears ringing as he searched for his three friends. Pianist fingers caught around a chain of loose metal and ran against the indentations of a name that made him choke back tears. He couldn't hear the rain of fire hurdling over the trenches; only buzzing that echoed through his head.

      In the pouring rain, Private First Class Donald Novitski held the dog tags of Sergeant Michael Trojan close to his heart, desperately trying to keep the rain from washing his best friend away from him.

July 21, 1947
Cleveland, Ohio

      "Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you . . . happy birthday dear Donny, happy birthday to you!"

      For a band that was well-known for its musical talents, only Julia seemed to bother with keeping a steady pitch. The other five members of the band were either too excited over the cake or too drunk to bother. In the case of Davy Zlatic, it was a combination of both.

      Twenty-four candles were poked into the cake and set alight, giving Julia a subtle glow as she set the confection down in front of Donny. His attention was more focused on keeping the tipsy band members away from the open flame, as well as shaking away the sudden ring in his ears.

      "A few more years and you'll be a fire hazard," Johnny remarked, tipping his beer to his friend before tumbling in his chair as Davy started to wobble on his feet. Donny rolled his eyes, earning a snicker from Nick.

      "Have you seen him try to light a cigarette around Julia? He already is one!"

      He watched his girlfriend flush in the dim lighting and start to scold the boys to focus and let him blow out the candles. If he hadn't been staring so intently at the way her auburn curls bounced in the light of flickering candles and dusk, he would have noticed he couldn't make out every word that she said.

      Donny held his breath, thinking of a reasonable wish. He had everything he'd ever wanted in the room with him . . . what more could he possible ask for? His brown eyes lingered on the rest of the band before he released the air he'd stored, the candles all going out in a line. The smoke curled up into the air amidst whoops and cheers.

      He stood up from his chair to wrap his arms around Julia's waist, leaving a soft kiss against her lips. Her hands rested against his chest when she pulled away and her lips appeared to move, forming what seemed to be three separate words.

      Donny's face started to pale when he realized he hadn't heard her voice at all. What had sounded like jubilation sounded muffled in his right ear, as though someone had stuffed a ball of cotton into it and sewn it shut.

      The ringing returned.