~Declan.

Before long, Chip's car rolled up in front of my apartment. We both got out of the car at the same time, and he beat me to the trunk so he could open it. As I pulled my case and papers out, I met his eyes and gave another thankful nod.

"Thanks again for the lift." I said.

"No problem." Chip paused. "Now, I just can't help but wonder what the future holds for us."

"Yeah ... back to freelancing, I guess."

"Well, now that I think of it, I'm sure I could find work pretty easy. Everybody needs a drummer. But what I really am concerned for is you guys."

I frowned. "Why?"

"The odds are stacked against you two around here. Some people will refuse to support just because of who you are. I mean, look at Mrs. Paige."

"True. We'll figure something out, maybe put a band of our own together so it's not a bunch of us by ourselves fighting to get by."

"That's a good idea." Chip said enthusiastically, "Would definitely even out some of the odds."

"For sure. Say, do you guys wanna come inside? Get a glass of orange juice, maybe?"

"You know I wouldn't turn you down; I'll ask Madden."

I laughed and waited as Chip opened Madden's door and chattered at him for a second. Then Madden hopped out, and the two followed me into my shabby apartment. Neither of them looked all too bothered by the minimalistic decor, and understandably so. We all had much bigger things on our minds.

As it turned out, I only had enough orange juice to fill two cups and trickle in a third of a cup for the last. I took the glass with the least and handed them the full ones. After a good-humored toast, we drank.

"Deck was just talking about maybe starting our own band." Chip said, filling Madden in, "Instead of us all struggling on our own to make ends meet, we could use teamwork to make the dream work."

Madden nodded vigorously. "That's a great idea! If you want piano and don't mind me, I'd have you covered."

I smirked. "I have no reason to look elsewhere."

Chip started pacing, almost fast enough to slosh the juice out of his cup when he pivoted around, but not quite. "Are you thinking a small ensemble here, or something like the Paiges' band?"

"Oh, no. Definitely something like a quartet or quintet."

"So we'll need a bass player ... what else?"

"Probably just a second horn player to back me up. Trumpet, trombone, alto ... I don't really have much preference."

Madden cleared his throat. "My roommate says he plays both guitar and bass. Now, I haven't heard him play, so not sure how good he is at either of them, but maybe I could ask him?"

"Sure! It can't hurt to try."

Chip paused his pacing for a moment to ponder something, and then he continued. "If that doesn't pan out, I have a few connections we could use. And horn players aren't hard to find around here."

"You know..." I said, "I have a hunch."

The others clearly looked like they wanted to ask what I was talking about, but didn't. I wouldn't have answered anyway. Stepping over to my coffee table in the living room where my telephone sat beside a pile of papers, I knelt beside it and rummaged through the mess. Soon, I found a pile of small slips of paper where I kept telephone numbers for my various contacts, and I shuffled through them until I found the one for Nuri Justice.

I tapped out the number and waited as the telephone rang. Then with a click, Nuri picked up and muttered a "hello, who is this?"

"Hey Mr. Justice," I said, "this is me, Declan."

"Declan! Nice to hear your voice again. I hope everything's going well; I heard you got picked to play in the band for the Paige family."

"I did, but actually, just this morning, they fired me."

"Oh." Nuri's voice sounded heavy with disappointment. "Sorry to hear that. Did they give a reason why?"

"No, but they fired the only other Candorian in the band at the same time, so it's not hard to figure out what's going on there."

"Shameful. Well, sorry to hear that, but if you're calling because you want back in my band ... sorry, but I already have a saxophonist. Wishing you the best in getting back—"

"Actually, that's why I called."

"Beg your pardon?"

I glanced up at Chip and Madden and got a slight chuckle out of how confused they still looked. "Your new saxophonist ... what's his name, again?"

"Rudy Red."

"He's really good. If you wouldn't mind, I'd like his telephone number."

Nuri's laughter buzzed through my earpiece. "You're trying to get back at me, aren't you? Steal my new saxophonist right from under me?"

"No, no, nothing like that. I am putting a band together, but if Rudy doesn't think he can multitask, then he should stay with you. You're where the money's at, for now."

"I like the way you talk. Alright, let me find his number for you."

A minute or so intervened while shuffling sounds came through the phone. From what I could hear, it seemed Nuri was rummaging through a drawer or box. Then with a thud, he began crinkling a piece of paper.

So he rattled off the number to me, we exchanged a few more pleasantries, and then we ended the call. With Rudy's telephone number now on one of my little note cards, Madden potentially having a bassist friend we could use, and Chip having connections as well, we seemed well on our way to having a viable band.

"We might have ourselves an alto player." I finally announced, turning to face Madden and Chip.

"Nuri Justice's alto player?" Chip asked. With the confusion gone, he apparently felt liberated to start pacing again.

"Yeah, him."

"He's good; I saw them play together the other night. You have good taste, Deck."

'Thanks."

Madden grinned. "Alright, well, I have a date tomorrow, but maybe we can see about meeting day after tomorrow with the two other guys? Just see how it works out."

"Sounds like a plan." Chip and I said together.

"Great. Well, it's no fun what happened this morning, but I'm glad you guys have my back."

"Of course." Chip said, stopping his pacing to briefly pat Madden on the back, "If this band comes together, I'll have to give my sister-in-law a call. She either owns or has investments in a lot of the popular taverns around here, so we might be able to get our names out there pretty fast that way."

By now, everyone had finished their juice, so I gathered the empty cups and put them in my sink. "Sounds good. I look forward to seeing where this goes."

"Yep. We'll be going, but thanks for the refreshment, and see you in a couple days."

"See you then."

So with that, I let the two men out and then locked the door to my apartment behind them. Needless to say, a lot had happened in just one morning, and though it felt a bit overwhelming, our teamwork seemed to be helping us weather the storm. Now I just had to give Rudy a call.

* * * *

Tahlia.

The morning of Father's departure for war proved a somber affair for our family. We awoke early, ate a light breakfast, and then packed in the family minivan to drive up to the mountainous countryside where his designated military transport vehicle awaited him. Hardly any of us spoke during the trip either, for what was there to say?

And despite Father's best efforts to console us, nothing made parting from him any easier. When we arrived at the spot the troop transport had been parked at, with soldiers scattered all about the surrounding hillside and about the vehicle, Father reluctantly emerged from the minivan, as did we. He gave us all kisses and hugs aplenty, and while my brothers managed to keep brave faces on, neither me nor my mother could quite keep the tears at bay.

"I'll be back sooner than you know it." Father insisted before planting one last kiss on his wife's lips. "Try not to worry too much."

So we watched him board the transport, and then Mother had us all get back in the minivan. She drove us the hour-long ride back to Silverport, and once again, none of us spoke much the whole way over. On my part, I found myself praying many times for Father's safety, and besides that, little remained in my mind.

When we returned home, Mother stopped us all before we dispersed to our various rooms. "I know we are all distressed to have Phillip gone, but he would have us not to grieve. So in the interest of that, I believe we should distract ourselves. I will make arrangements to have some guests for dinner and a concert after. Does that sound agreeable?"

We all assented, and with that, she dismissed us. By the time I got to my room, I'd realized I had grown quite tired, so I settled in for a nap.

I awoke a little before noon, and after eating a quick snack, all I really did for much of the day was paint. The landscape coming together on the canvas made little sense, objectively speaking, and it ended out more abstract than I normally would have liked, but still, the process had been something pleasant to occupy my hands with. While my mind dwelled on my Father and his welfare, I managed to find some measure of distraction in my art.

Then, all too soon, the time came for me to change out of my painting clothes and get dolled up for whatever guests Mother had invited. I hardly felt ready for a social dinner, but I had little choice in the matter. If I opted not to come downstairs and join everyone, that would reflect badly on the rest of the family, for people would ask questions in their heads and hence provide their own answers. The last time Benjamin had done similarly, rumors had spread that he'd eloped with some young lady and become estranged from the rest of the family for that reason. In reality, he'd simply been too absorbed in his studies to present himself. But needless to say, since that incident, Mother insisted on our full attendance at every event, so I would oblige.

When I decided I had made myself fully presentable, I emerged from my bedroom and headed for the stairs. By the time I had reached the front door, a few unfamiliar smells hit my nose. I sniffed deeper and made out the fragrances of a few perfumes and colognes I was unaccustomed to. Had the guests arrived already?

I entered the dining chamber and found my suspicions confirmed. Along with my mother and brothers, a smattering of guests had shown their faces, from Miss Brook and a handful of her other friends, to Delilah Wrath, to—

Keene Abrams.