“You’re welcome to it,” Janice said, “and thanks for asking.”
Vin sighed. “I’m sorry, Janice,” he said.
Sorry? I don’t think I’ve ever heard him say he was sorry.
“May I use your shower?” he asked.
“If it’s working, sure, but don’t you want to hear Jize play first? That is . . . if he wants to?”
As though in answer to Janice’s query, Jize walked up to the piano and sat down. He lifted the cover over the keys.
“Ah, jeez, all right,” Vin said. “Just make it quick. Play a short piece.”
“I will play a work that is short that I think captures our mood.”
“Who is it by?” Janice asked.
“It is Chopin. The Raindrop Prelude.”
He began with a light touch on the keys. Although the notes were in the high range, it was a very somber and simple piece. And then it changed to very low notes and became dark and foreboding. He started to play louder with more force, but then retreated to mid-range sobriety, only to repeat the louder part, alternating ferocity with melancholy. She began to sense his anger, his sadness, and even his frustration. Suddenly, he barely touched the keys, hitting some isolated high notes. And then it was over. Was there a hint of hope in the ending?
Over far too soon, she tasted the salt of tears. She approached him and opened her arms. He stood up, turned around, and they embraced, each one sobbing a little. Janice hoped there wasn’t a dry eye in the room, but she and Jize shared a moment of profound sadness, yet profound joy.
She had found her cat, and he had found his piano. And she was in her home, and for the first time in a long time, she was surrounded by people she cared about, that she dared care about.
It took an apocalypse to re-connect her to humanity.
And the pain in her shoulder reminded her of her own mortality.
Jize broke off the embrace and brushed the tears off of Janice’s cheeks.
“I wish to stay,” he said.
Janice’s facial expression turned to distress. “What do you mean you wish to stay?” She seemed to fumble for some thoughts. “You wish to stay here?”
“If it’s all right with you.”
“I don’t understand,” she said.
“We’re not staying here,” Jocelyn said. “We have to get to Colorado Springs, remember?”
No, they did not understand. They did not understand how much the piano meant to him, how lost he had been over this past week. He knew he had lost his family—he could feel it in his bones. And while he was grieving for them, he realized he was also grieving the loss of the piano.
“No, I do not wish for you to change your plans . . . well, I do. I would love for all of you to stay with me here. But I know what you are doing is too important. Therefore, I do not ask you to stay. I do not want to put you in a position where you have to say no . . . except you, Janice, and Emily.”
Janice looked bewildered. “Me? Emily?”
“You love to play the piano too. You have a cat to look after. We can take our fair share of the food. We can live for a decent amount of time.”
“When did you come up with this crazy idea?” Janice asked.
Jize put his hands on the piano. Every piano had a unique energy. This one had absorbed energy from Janice and Toonces. “While I was playing.”
“But what about us being infected? What if we turn into zombies?”
Jize shrugged and sighed. “We do not know that you will.”
“Yes, but what if we do?”
“Then we will all become zombies. I cannot ask for you all to leave me a shotgun, and I do not think I could bring myself to kill you.”
“Wait, let me get this straight,” Vin said. “You are willing to become a zombie so you can have a few days playing the piano?”
“I do not expect you to understand,” Jize explained. “I do not expect any of you to understand. But I do expect that you will not force me to go with you.”
Everyone was silent for a while—an extended, pregnant pause. Janice’s eyes were darting back and forth in their sockets, and Jize thought she might be trying to think of a way to let him down easy.
She did not look like a person who wanted to stay. She wasn’t smiling.
“I am sorry, Janice. I see I have made a grave error. I completely understand if you do not want to stay with me here.”
“It’s just . . .” Janice stammered. “ . . . it’s just I believe in Jocelyn’s cause.”
“As do I. But I will be of little help, I am afraid.”
The cat jumped onto the top of the piano, purring up a storm.
“And if I turn into a zombie . . . if Emily does . . . maybe the government has a way of keeping us . . . I don’t know . . . quarantined or something, until they can find a cure.”
“I understand,” Jize said.
“I don’t think you do, Jize,” Janice said. “Please don’t go. I want to help you, I do, but I want to help all of you. Please, I can’t bear to have us split up. I’ve helped you all, and I want to keep helping you. Please, I’m begging you, don’t stay here.”
“Am I not welcome in your home?”
“Of course, you’re welcome. But I really wish you’d go on with us.”
Jize shook his head. He already made up his mind. “I’m sorry—”
“But they may have a piano at the air base,” she said. Jize felt she was reaching.
“If they do, and you wish, you may come back for me. But I will not go unless they have one. You find me a piano, and I will travel there. I do not wish to be alone, but for now I must . . . unless you wish me to
