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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