The music of the evening. One of the songs, that is.
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Outside, the late summer weather with the afternoon sun brings out a mood of sadness when I glance out my window. Trees along the bank of the Potomac are starting to change, and aren't fully in their autumn foliage yet. But the shifting season is obviously changing.
Grabbing a few papers that Azrael asked me to handle, I get ready to go over to his office. I smile inwardly at how I have these assignments to do. In the last three months that I've been able to work here Azrael has been able to give me work and I've started to actually help him in his labor. And that's fulfilling somewhat; that I'm able to be of help to him.
But I feel that even if I'm able to help him, I want to go past that. I want to do more.
Leaving my office, I walk out and head to the office just a few feet away. Knocking, I wait for him to say enter before I go inside. He sits at his desk and next to him is the son of the Levi's, Marco. He has soft brown hair and wide innocent eyes. His age is that of a third grader and Azrael seems to enjoy tutoring him whenever Levi has to bring Marco to this office.
Levi and his wife both work, and they want to stay home to raise Marco more than working, as Levi puts it. His family apparently puts a lot of pressure onto having working parents, and perhaps the laity isn't as nice to him either.
Shutting the door, I walk over to the desk. Marco sits next to Azrael at the desk and gets help from him. I think they're looking together at a math assignment as I can see some of the numbers for double-digit and triple-digit multiplication. School started for a him about a month ago, and now at the end of September he's already becoming busy in schoolwork. I hear them talking as I approach him.
"So eighteen times six is sixty-eight?" asks Marco to Azrael.
Azrael seems to be multi-tasking as he has work spread out next to where Marco has his assignments. He also has a lollipop in his mouth that he sucks on. On the table is a jar of candy that I got for him to ease out of smoking. He's been well at it and hasn't had a cigarette since I got him candy the first time, and I've continued to get him those jars as it helps him in discarding his awful habit.
Azrael is writing something on his own paper and nodding when he pauses. Turning to look at Marco's work, he looks at the paper before opening a drawer in his desk to get a calculator. He types on it before looking back at Marco's work, then looking back at the calculator. Finally he sees the issue.
"Carry the four, Marco," he says as he points to a portion of the work.
"Where?" asks Marco, looking at the work in front of him.
"Here," says Azrael and points to a part of the work that Marco needs to fix.
"Oh, okay," says Marco and writes the calculation in.
Azrael nods and then notices me and addresses me, saying, "Ah! Hogarth! Sorry, what is it that I can help you with?"
"I brought the papers you wanted me to sort out. From yesterday," I reply, putting the papers on his desk and showing him which ones.
"Oh, yes," says Azrael as he looks at the papers as he nods, "Thank you, Hogarth. It's very helpful."
"Is twenty-eight times thirty-nine one thousand twenty-two?" asks Marco, taking away the attention that Azrael had on me with his grey eyes.
My stomach turns and I want to say something to have his attention and gaze back on me. I don't want the attention of Azrael on a kid, I want it on me.
Typing again on his calculator, Azrael checks the answer before looking again at the work of Marco. He then spots the issue.
"Carry the seven, Marco," says Azrael, and then his eyes are back on me.
"So, are there any other assignments?" I ask as Azrael looks at me, and I try to capture his attention on me.
"Yes, in fact," says Azrael as he turns in his office chair to open another drawer in his desk, pulling out a stack of paper clipped together.
He must've prepared that stack of paper previously. It's become a fact and habit to prepare for my assistance. It's good that I take part of his mind and time to think, but there in his mind I want more.
"Here is the work that I would like you to have for me, by tomorrow, that is," says Azrael.
"I think I can finish it up by the time we have to go home," I say as I notice that it's not that difficult an assignment that he's given me. Just sorting out the contacts of a firm we deal with periodically.
"That won't be necessary," replies Azrael with a soft smile, "I have an appointment tonight and I will be departing soon."
"Where are you going?" I ask curiously, "I actually have to go somewhere too."
"I have to attend a special meeting with a certain group," replies Azrael as he tries to not disclose not too much information. I feel the inside of my chest turn at an angle when he mentions another person in his life, but it stops as he says, "not anybody I'm involved in. Just a person who's important."
"Oh, I see," I say, slightly relieved.
"Where are you going?" asks Azrael curiously.
"I have a date tonight. I'm going somewhere special on it," I reply.
I try to copy how Azrael says what he has planned tonight, not divulging too much information, in order to hook him onto my words.
Azrael just nods and only says, "I hope you enjoy it."
Turning back to Marco, he looks for a few seconds at the work the boy's doing before nodding and once and then stowing the calculator of his. I'm still thinking that maybe he'll take the bait when it's been a few minutes and he looks up from his work and talks.
"Err, Hogarth, you can go now if you would like," he says, unsure why I'm still standing here for some time now, "I'm going to pack up soon as well and will be leaving shortly."
"Right!" I say as I come to my senses and pick up my feet to move, plastered they were to the floor, "I'll, uh, see you tomorrow."
"See you tomorrow," replies Azrael with a waning smile as he helps Marco pack his work to leave. I nod and then close the office door behind me. I'm bummed that he didn't pay attention to me more, but I wish it was more than that.
After taking a moment I go over to my office and get ready to go meet up with Christine. We're going tonight to a concert that the hospital that Christine works at is holding for charity. The Hospital itself is not a children's hospital, but there are many children there. They hold the concert for those poor souls. I bought tickets for both of us and Christine was both happy and thankful that I did for the children.
Looking at the clock on the wall in my office, I see that it's three-thirty. past three-thirty a little, but close enough. The concert starts at five and goes for about half an hour. Which means it should end around six-thirty. After that concert I plan to go to dinner at a restaurant in that part of town. There's a mall near the hall and I think it would be nice to dine at one of the four star restaurants.
I do still care for Christine, but I don't know if I love her. Thinking back to when we first starting having a relationship, I have trouble coming to terms that it may not have been an honestly romantic relationship. That is, not that I was seeing somebody else, but that maybe I wasn't exactly interested in her.
I was interested in her as a person. I wanted to know about her more and also she did as well. We met each other in the medical classes we both took and that is where the conversation of being involved more came up.
It would be a lie to say I don't like her. She is a good person, and caring just as much compassionate. But do I want to spend the rest of y life with her? Do I want that to be the case? In reality I can't help but feel that I don't.
There is something about Christine that doesn't quite draw me in. Maybe it's primal, or it's intellectual, but I don't want to be with her. At least, not as much as I want to be with Azrael.
Thinking about that, I ride the metro to the part of town where the promise of the evening's entertainment is. There are many people around and they go about in the late afternoon that is fast turning into evening. Orange on one side and blue on the other, the sky has many other colors mixed in between. Stepping out of the staircase that comes from underground I'm able to see the colors. Time-wise I didn't have time to go home and change, but the suit that is now my daily attire that I wear as the official assistance of Azrael's is not as stifling as I first started wearing it.
Spotting Christine, I smile and wave, walking over to her. She wears a one-piece wine colored dress with a pearl necklace. Her arm slips onto mine and I feel somewhat disgusted. Not that word. More...repulsed. I don't want her arm there. Thinking back, maybe I never did.
But in considering that we are supposed to be in a relationship, I don't despise her in putting her arm on mine. It's natural that she would put it there.
I don't want it there though.
"How was your day?" asks Christine as we walk away from the station and head toward the concert hall.
"It was alright," I reply simply.
"Did anything happen?"
"I got some more work from Azrael. It's some administrative papers," I reply.
"At least he's giving you work to do and is letting you help him out," notes Christine.
"Yeah. That is good."
"How has he been? Besides work?" asks Christine, indicating the health of Azrael.
"He's better, I think. He's not as tired and he looks healthier too."
Looks better is an understatement. He looks amazing really. Azrael after stopping his smoking habits has a less pale look overall. And maybe because it's linked to how he doesn't have as much work either, he's not as grey anymore.
It's amazing how much he's revived physically, but also in his mental state, partially. One day he walked into the office with a haircut that I couldn't recognize him. In the past all his black hair was in long strands that you could tie it in the back of his head with the strands sticking out. But then he walked in with a boyish haircut. I think on that day he had hair gel on as well. I seriously mistook him as a replacement for me, but when he opened his mouth and spoke in Azrael's voice I completely jumped back and Azrael laughed on a rare occasion.
That's another part of him that changed as well. His voice that used to be scratchy and a nail in anyone's ear has evened out. Most of the spikes are gone and only when he says words that have a shifting tone does his voice ever so often get breathy. But not in a awful way, just as if it's been worn slightly. Softer tones mixed in give his voice an interesting sound.
It's nice to listen to.
Reaching the concert hall, we go inside and start to settle into the seats where our tickets tell us to be. The audience in general seems to be of either the wealthy who donated to the hospital and the parents of the children who received care there. Here and there is a child that Christine actually knows and waves to. It's a comfortable atmosphere.
The lights dim and then the curtain on the stage rises. Behind it are seats set in the half-circle that orchestra's tend to have. There's also a piano at the center of the orchestra and right now there's nobody seated there for now. At most of the other instrument positions there are musicians seated and a conductor walks onto the stage. After he walks onto the stage he bows once to the crowd which leads to us clapping. He smiles before taking his spot at the center facing away from us.
Soon there's music that's classical and calming. I listen to it and I luckily don't fall asleep. It's not bad music and it's only because a work-day has transpired that I would maybe sleep. But I wouldn't think it's bad ever.
Before I realize that the time that I've been listening has been the time of the show, a final standing ovation happens. The conductor bows and walks off the stage. I'm thinking it's time to go home when a man walks out onto the stage, in a suit and with a mike. He begins to speak.
"Hello, ladies and gentlemen. I thank everyone for coming to this show tonight in support of the hospital. There is not enough time or breath to say thank you to you all," he says.
He smiles once and a few of the people in the crowd say a 'no problem' to him. He continues to talk.
"But, there is one last performance that the person who rented this entire venue for this enterprise would like to give," says the man, and I realize that the musicians have left the stage while the man spoke.
Instead, a single person walks onto the stage, with the recently acquired haircut and the usual suit. Dark grey eyes and a step that's steady unnaturally.
It's Azrael.