Pink Floyd at Midnight

On Christmas morning, outside it was pouring. All was hopeless in this home, because that's what winter in Seattle is like... New Year's wasn't much better, either. I was left alone while the big kids went out to drink and have a good time. All alone in a hollow house with whispers of wind on our tin roof, and raindrops like teeth tapping at my window, fighting to get in. Biting to get in.1

Then I heard a knock on the door that was nothing at all like the teeth. It broke my concentration, tearing my eyes away from the hypnotic spinning of the record player. The floor froze my feet and numbed my toes as I went to see who my nameless visitor was. Probably someone looking for my cousins, not sure of where they had gone to this time. My blanket trailed after me. A lonely path through the house. I pulled the edges tighter around myself, fighting off exhaustion and the early-hours cold of a brand new January. At the door, I turned the handle, my fingers stiffening to the metal.2

Aidyn stood before me, rain soaked and looking as tired as I felt. I stepped back to let him in and closed the door. He walked silently to the bathroom and came back with a towel, drying off his hair. I sat down in front of the fireplace, soaking in the last dying embers' heat. As Aidyn came in, he grabbed some wood from the box by the door, setting it among the ash and glowing remains of what were once great, towering trees. He lit the wood on fire and sat down next to me. 3

His shirt was wet and it soaked into my blanket. I told him to stand up and lifted his arms, taking off his shirt, wrapping him in my blanket and sitting him down with me on the floor. Our backs rested against the sofa, and I leaned my head on his shoulder. We were silent. Words held no relevancy when it was just the two of us. We always seemed to know what the other meant with wordless messages. We didn't spend much time like this--Aidyn and I alone together. It was a nice break from the routine chaos.4

His black waves dripped onto my neck, tracing sky-tear paths down to my shoulders, soaking into my shirt. He stood up. With my eyes on him, he walked over to the records and picked up a disk, spinning it between his fingers before setting it on the turntable. He set the needle down and turned the volume up slowly. Our beloved David Gilmour jumped out of the docile piece of vinyl, standing me up, weaving himself between the two of us, drawing us together. Serenading us in our moonlit rain dance, telling us to breathe...5

We spun, left over bits of moisture from Aidyn's hair creating a rainstorm in my living room at the end of the song, Aidyn turned off the stereo. It seemed we only had enough patience and energy for one song. We sat down on the floor wrapped in eachother, breathing in the sweet intoxication of adrenaline and the remaining echoes of Pink Floyd. I watched Aidyn stare into the fire burning steadily now.6

'Fire is a beautiful sound,' he said, flames reflecting off his eyes, orange bursting with the black of his pupils, dirty dancing within his eye sockets with the blue of his irises.7

'So is rain,' I said, standing up and looking out the window. The stars were invisible behind a blackout of clouds. “The gerbils are out,” I said with a smile, remembering something we said when we were little kids. 8

Aidyn stood behind me, his chin on my head. His height always made me feel like a little kid. He traced a raindrop-gerbil scurrying down the window, joining with another, leaving a trail, stopping at the edge of the pane. “Gerbils,” he said, wrapping his arms around me. “I forgot about that.”9

We stayed standing like that for a long time, just watching the rainfall, listening to the fire… Beautiful sounds.10

*~*~*11

I don’t know how long we stood there, but all of a sudden, the sky was lighter, and the rain had stopped. I noticed for the first time that the fire had almost died out, and the room was cold again. But I could still feel Aidyn’s arms wrapped around me, holding the warmth into my bones, making me feel as if life would always be good, if he’d just keep holding me.12