145 JOYFUL NOTES

ANDRE’S POV

I stood still, eyes fixed on my mother as she walked up to me. I was supposed to go pay Ariel a visit at the hospital, cause I had a feeling she would be there. Now I was being delayed by my parents. Just great, I was the one who brought this upon myself. I woke up, got ready for work, forgetting that about Ariel.

“You’re going to work?” My mother asked, she had gotten a little bit closer to me.

“Yes. But I’ll be going to the hospital first to see how Ariel and Luke are doing.”

“Oh right. We should go and see them, don’t you think?”

“You want to come along?”

“Yes, of course. Ariel is like a daughter to me, so I really need to check up on her.”

“Okay then, we can start leaving now.”

“Woah woah woah, young man. Not so fast” my mother spoke, and I gave her a curious look.

“Anything?”

“Yes, I thought you were wounded last night.” She crossed her arms.

“Yes. Yes I was,” I responded.

“And you’re feeling better now?”

“Yes,” I answered and let out a sigh. “I am feeling better now,” I added. Honestly, when I woke up this morning, took my bath, and put on my clothes, I totally forgot I got some scars on my body. Like, it wasn’t even painful. It was like nothing happened last night.

“Are you sure about that?” My mother gave me a skeptical look.

you

can

strong man, and

burst into laughter

are you laughing?” My dad asked, giving her a puzzled face.

to answer, as her laugh got harder. And seeing her cracking up like

She

My dad gaped at

you got chased by bees,” my mother reminded

those weren’t no ordinary bees.” He

tone, taunting him. “Oh

know what? I’m out of here.” My dad marched upstairs.

her the playful mode. “Mom, you got to stop laughing.

get going then. But have do you perhaps know where Mason is? I haven’t seen him

don’t know, but he stormed out of

that?” she

sighed, and walked out

could hear

****

ARIEL’S POV

at the dreary cityscape beyond. The beeping of machines and the faint murmurs of nurses outside the door created a dull backdrop to my

condition.

at the hospital when it happened. He was rushed to a

at me.

where the festive sounds could be coming from in such a somber place. Then, as if materializing out of thin air, a group of Mexican musicians burst into the room, their

musicians sported wide–brimmed hats, embroidered shirts, and polished leather boots. They carried guitars, trumpets, and maracas, their fingers flying expertly over the strings

the musicians began to play, their

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