Spring Won't Come

Six: Isaiah

"It's just a building," Isaiah muttered to himself. "Nothing weird about it."

Isaiah was down the street from the building where he and Manny had decided to have band practice, the building where Alice lived. Manny seemed to have no problem being there but it made Isaiah nervous, which was ironic since he was the one who had discovered the building in the first place.

The change in attitude puzzled Isaiah. He had felt like he was meant to find that building for him and Manny, like it was their destiny to start their band there. Now the very thought of going there sent his stomach in knots.

You're acting like a little kid again, he chided himself. The reality was that he was acting like his old self, the self that he had been before becoming friends with Manny.

Isaiah would never admit it, though he was sure Manny knew him well enough to already know, but he was a scared kid. He was scared of the dark, scared of heights, scared of the things that scurried around in the dark. He was scared of those men with the white hoods, the ones who had killed his great-grandfather. Most of all though, he was scared of Manny finding any of this out.

A faint melody was carried on the wind, something that sounded like the singing of a robotic bird. Isaiah paused in front of the gate and realized that the sound was a guitar.

Manny?

Hearing his friend play put some of Isaiah's fears at ease. It made the building seem less ominous, less imposing, as he navigated the dark hall to the unit that he and Manny had chosen for their practice space.

There were lamps scattered throughout the unit, probably borrowed from Alice, which cast harsh beams that cast out the darkness. Manny was sitting on a metal chair, a guitar shaped like a stretched out black star in his lap, his fingers dancing across the fretboard. The sound that came from the amp was like nothing Isaiah had heard before.

"Manny?" Isaiah had to shout over the stream of notes coming from the amp.

Manny showed now signs that he noticed Isaiah's presence in the room. His eyes were narrowed in intense concentration, his forehead wrinkled like an old man's. He looks like he's possessed, Isaiah thought with great alarm.

Isaiah considered himself pretty well-versed in what he called "good" metal music. He had gorged himself on the records and CDs that he and Manny had bought together. He could identify the shredding of the likes of Hammett, LaRocque, and Mustaine. This was something different.

The notes that flowed from the amp were fast, melodic, and moody. Isaiah had heard some of the material that Manny had written and this wasn't it. Manny was a competent guitarist and songwriter, but Isaiah had never known him to be this good. Isaiah teetered somewhere between impressed and envious.

"Manny?" Isaiah placed a hand on his friend's shoulder.

Manny gasped and his head snapped up, his eyes locking with Isaiah's in a look of terror and surprise. Isaiah saw no recognition, and that scared him more than anything else.

"Manny? It's Isaiah. You know, your friend."

Manny stopped playing and brushed the hair away from his eyes. He blinked slowly and a smile carved itself on his face. "What's up, dude?"

Isaiah looked at his friend warily. "You good? You were just acting like you got hypnotized by Copperfield."

Manny swept his pick across his guitar strings, unleashing a rich and soothing melody. "I was just in the zone, man," he said nonchalantly.