Live Music - By Brian Law

He woke suddenly and sat bolt upright in bed. “What the hell was that?” he muttered, startling his wife. 

“What the hell was what?” she asked, yawning and barely awake. 

“That sound. It’s coming from outside. There it is again. Can you hear it?” he asked, climbing slowly out of bed and padding carefully towards the bedroom window. 

She didn’t move for a few moments as she listened closely. “Yeah, now I hear it. It sounds like music. But that can’t be, not from outside, anyway.” 

“No, it’s from outside. It’s coming from the park just like when they used to have those outside concerts. Remember, the sound would drift all the way over here,” he added wistfully. 

She got up, too, put on her bathrobe and joined him at the window. “But it can’t be live music. I mean, with the restrictions on outdoor activities and martial law and all that. It’s got to be a recording, right?” she mused, scratching her head. 

“No, listen carefully, it’s definitely live, and there’s an audience, too. You can hear the clapping and yelling. And I can even smell marijuana smoke in the air.” 

“My God, you’re right and I can smell it, too. But it doesn’t make any sense. It’s been over a year since anybody went outside. It’s too dangerous and there’s military types all over the place. No way there’s a live concert in the park, just no way!” she exclaimed. 

He turned and went to sit on the bed. He patted the place beside him and she sat down next to him. He looked at her in the dim light, sighed heavily and said, “Honey, we’ve been locked-down so long we’ve lost hope. We don’t even go online anymore except to order food. I bet the curfew has been lifted and we didn’t get the word. Possible?” 

She took his hands in hers, beamed and said, “God, you may be right. I mean, it’s been over a year and we have all but given up. It can’t hurt to get dressed and just go over for a peek, right?” 

They both got up at the same time and hurriedly dressed. He grabbed a flashlight and she snatched her purse. As they opened the front door and moved to the porch for the first time in a year, he cautioned, “We’ll walk, okay. No use going too high profile. We’ll stay away from the streetlights and move in the shadows. And we’re just going to catch a glimpse of the concert and then get right back here, okay” 

“Okay!” she answered with glee as the two of them headed down the front steps into the night and down the street. 

Had they taken the time to let their eyes get accustomed to the dark, they might have seen the two men seated in a car nearby, their cigarette embers glowing in the car’s dark interior. One spoke quietly into a walkie-talkie and said, “Blue Boy to Rover, targets are on the move. Pick ‘em up at the corner and arrest ‘em.” Putting down the radio, he turned to his partner and chuckled, “Well, we won't be able to use that little trick again for a while, will we?” 

His partner stubbed out his cigarette in the ash tray, nodded and replied, "Yeah, but I think the recording of the little kitten meowing helplessly will probably get the old lady on the corner out for a few minutes tomorrow night. Want to give it a try?" 


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