Tag Archive: Rycroft

Rye smiled as Kevin startled at the start of a song that he’d suspected was familiar to him. “This is an awesome version,” he whispered. “They did really good picking songs that were modern and making them sound period.”

“I don’t care with the critics say,” Rye murmured. “This is one of the best musicals that come around recently.”

“It appeals to the teller of tales in you,” Michael added.

“You too,” Kevin said, pointing at the younger boy’s open notebook.

Michael shrugged. “It’s a good story and a good question.”

“We live for today,” Rye said with a certainty. “Yesterday is a memory. Tomorrow is a question mark. Today is a gift. That’s why it’s called the present.”

“I’ve always liked that saying,” Kevin murmured as he settled back to watch how the show played out.

“I like these words better,” Rye murmured as they listened to the song. “They seem happier.”

“Dancing as opposed to dying,” Kevin added. “Yeah, the version in the video is happier than the lyrics written on the page. That band obviously changed the lyrics to suit their needs.”

“Or the transcriptionist misheard the lyrics,” Leigh murmured.

“If the transcriptionist was deaf, that explanation might make sense,” Gareth said with a smirk. “Let’s sing their version, instead of the one written here.”

“I agree,” Hector said. “I actually considered this song for you before I found the written lyrics.”

Micheal grinned and held up his artpad. It was already full of images that matched the lyrics of the song. “I love ballads,” he said from behind the paper.

Rye smiled as he listened to the important lord of state. He was attentive and sweet, everything that someone of his personality type was expected to be. Kevin knew as he watched the boy that the friendly face he was showing to the outside world was covering the terrified jumble of emotions that he held in check.

He’d read the younger agent’s file. The boy had been in the house when his parents were killed, hiding in a safe room with his sister. His first mission by himself had proven disastrous and nearly lethal. His second mission, when the agency had consented to partnering him with his sister, had been nearly as disastrous. Kevin knew first-hand of another terrifying encounter the boy had had with a group of street thugs.

Despite the smile on his face, Rye was not nearly at ease with this group of strangers as he appeared. Kevin couldn’t imagine how he’d handle spending the night in the unfamiliar place.

When You’re Alone in Your Bed

Late that night, Rye sat up staring around the room. Part of him wanted to go to his sister’s room. Part of him wanted to go to one of the other boys’ rooms. Part of him was too scared to walk across the dark space of his own room.

Tears came to his eyes. He felt very much alone. He couldn’t say, even to himself, why he was so frightened. However, there was no way he could sleep alone in the strange room.

He startled when his door opened. A shadowy figure filled the doorway and Rye swallowed a whimper. “Rye, it’s me,” a familiar voice said.

“Kevin?” Rye whispered back.

“Hey, kid, having trouble sleeping?” the older boy asked. Kevin sat down on the foot of his bed and Rye nodded slightly. “Want me to stay for a little while?”

“Just until I’m asleep?” Rye replied.

“No problem,” came the easy reply. Rye smiled and lay down on the bed. With the familiar presence of Kevin, he could finally begin to relax. Sleep soon overtook him.

Rye settled down to listen to the music coming from Kevin’s CD. It was the same group that they’d listened to the other day; he recognized the singer’s voice. The song seemed sad and solemn at first but then turned hopeful.

“This is a nice song,” he remarked softly.

“It was used heavily in a television show about people who were immortal,” Kevin said as the song ended. “They would get involved with mortals and then lose that loved one, whether through accident or simply old age. Often times it played as they contemplated how sad it was to continue without the one they loved.”

“It’s better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all,” Rye pointed out. They were happier being social than holding themselves aloof, I’m sure.”

Kevin nodded. “Our life on this earth may be fleeting but the people we touch, touch others and it continued endlessly. In that way, everyone lives forever.”

Rye forced himself to keep moving, even after he would normally have stopped to rest. They needed to get home. They needed to get away from the men who had kidnapped them. He glanced at his sister. She too looked exhausted, but continued to press on. Soon, he promised silently, soon they could rest. Something made him look to his other side, a sense of a presence. When he looked however, there was no one. He shook his head and continued down the dark path.

I Can Help You Cry

“There’s another song with a similar sentiment,” Kevin said. “I can’t take away your pain but I can help you cry or cry with you. I like that song, even if it isn’t something I’d usually listen to.”

Gareth nodded and murmured, “It is a sweet song.”

“I’ve heard a bluegrass cover of it too,” Rye said. He tilted his head and frowned. “It was… too bouncy and the phrasing was a little off, but overall it was pretty good.”

“Bluegrass?” Michael said, shuddering a little. “Please, no thanks.”

“The whole idea of these sessions is to expose us to music we ordinarily wouldn’t listen to, Michael. We listened to your songs,” Rye returned. “Needless to say it wasn’t something I enjoyed but I listened for its musical merits.”

Michael held up his hands in defeat. Rye grinned and scampered off. “What have I gotten myself into?”

“It’s what you get for torturing him with spoken word music,” Leigh replied.

Rye settled back and smiled as he watched effects the song he’d chosen had on his housemates. Michael was sketching, obviously inspired to give images to the story the song told. Mika had tears standing in her eyes, touched by the words. Kevin and Gareth, who usually talked during these sessions, sat quietly until the song ended.

“That was sweet,” Mika said, her voice cracking just a little.

Leigh grinned and nodded. “Rye loves songs that might tell a story or even hint at one. Mikey apparently does too.”

“Inspiring,” the artist said softly. He looked up, meeting Rye’s eyes. “Beautiful, simple but profound lyrics, deceptively uncomplicated melody. I really like this one. Good choice.”

Rye grinned. “It’s always been one of my favorites,” he said softly.

“I’m all for exposing us to new and different forms of music but really,” Rye said as he settled in the chair and smirked at Michael.

“Really?” the artist prompted.

Rye chuckled as he finished, “The only end I’m waiting for is the end of this song.”

“This guy’s got issues,” Mikyla said, shaking her head.

“It’s a powerful song about the end of a relationship,” Michael said, with a shrug. “Who hasn’t had those feelings after they’ve made a commitment to someone and… you know, had their heart ripped out and stomped on.”

“Right,” Rye agreed. “Let’s just say it wasn’t my cup of tea.”

Kevin settled back as the opening chords began. “I’ve always liked this song. The world lost a genius when he died.”

“Too much love?” Rye whispered. He listened silently for a moment. “This is so sad. But the guitar part is amazing.”

“Why do you think it’s been remade over and over, time and again?” Kevin said. “He was brilliant. It was a bit before your time, I guess.”

“I’d love to borrow this CD, Kevin,” Rye asked. “That piano part… then the way that the soft lyrical melody blends with the guitar… I’m seriously in awe.”

“He was awesome,” Kevin replied. “You should have seen him live. He had such a presence. Just don’t forget whose CD this is.” He smirked as he handed the CD to the younger musician. The singer may be dead but his legacy would live on through his music.

“I wonder if this song was inspired by the tragedies of a few years ago,” Melina said softly as they listened to the song.

“It’s very pretty,” Rye said softly. “It could be about any tragedy – even one on a personal level.”

“You’re a little young to talk of person tragedies,” Gareth said. “It does have a certain lyrical quality to it though.”

Rye sighed and stood, walking over to put his coffee cup in the sink as he replied, “I suppose.” He thought about his parents being killed and wondered if the older boy would consider that as a personal tragedy.

Monica Ferris

an author with many hats

A Land of Curiosity

From the files of Shynian Intelligence

Heather's Fancies

tales from the enchanted gardens and shadow hollow


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