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The Last Song Of C S H (A Reprise) Lawrence Peters
As he stood there, drained, feeling more than hearing the roar of the people, Cold was glad he did it. He always knew the best way to bring people out of themselves was to first bring them together, then give them a piece of your heart. Then they shared theirs... if even one did, it would cause a chain reaction somewhere. And maybe even get through the walls of a cold steel heart.
"This place... these people. Saved me." He thought... but in the crowd, he saw the first looks. What's next?, they asked. He was too spent for that. So he reached down in the audience, and pulled a girl on stage. He made a show of placing the microphone in her hand.
"What do I do with this?" she whispered.
"Sing. Talk. Tell a joke."
"I can't sing."
"That's what they told ME." he said to her, and putting a hand on her back he gently propelled her forward. A spotlight, soft, welcomed her.
He skated past the band, and formally saluted of them each in turn. As he built up speed he jumped off the stage to where his bag waited, scooped it up and hit the door hard.
Out into the sunlight. Sunlight. It had been too long. A few doors down was a used clothing shop.
Amed, the owner, met him.
"Cold!"
"Not anymore, Amed, the sun's out."
"Yes it is. And that's great."
"Sorry I can't stay, Amed, but I need my--"
"Of course of course the package. I'll get it right away."
Cold went to the window, and could see someone trying to force the back door of the bar. Too bad he's left a broomstick handle lodged in it.
Amed handed him the package and he opened it. Amed hissed at the contents.
"Such a shabby coat! Such a bummy hat! Why, Cold, why?"
"For exactly that reason, Amed. Now not a word, ok?"
"One day you will tell me why."
"Exactly." he said as he put on the long gray coat, and fedora. Perfect.
He stuck out his hand. "Goodbye, Amed, and thanks."
Amed reached out and took it. Raised one eyebrow.
"Jimmy."
"Jimmy. Come back soon, ok, my friend."
Jimmy waved, and cautiously stepped out of the door.
The bar back door was rocking.
Pulling out his cell, he pushed the button.
"Lexy."
"Cold."
"Not anymore."
Lexy's sigh was a small hurricane over the phone. "Good to hear that."
"Thank everyone for me."
"Coming back?"
"Going to see your dad. I need a break."
"I'll tell him you're coming. Give that basstard a hug from me, k?"
"Will do."
"And Jimmy?"
Jimmy smiled at his name. It had been a while. He missed it.
"Yeah, Lexington Wyatt Bartholomew?"
"Ouch. Hey that girl, Parker?"
"Yeah?"
"She said she knows you. Does she?"
"Of course she does."
"Ok."
"Take good care of her, Lexy. She's one of the real ones."
"Yeah, she kind of struck me the same way. She's on the stage right now. She's singing."
Jimmy grasped the doorframe... he so wanted to go put an ear to the bar's back door and hear it.
But you can't go back.
"Hold up the phone, will ya, Lex... one last time."
"Will do."
He listened for a moment. He knew what song she was singing. He'd heard her sing it before. He pushed the end button and put the phone away.
Once clear of the block he began to sing it too. In the sun of a new day.
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