The Conductor

Sometimes, she wishes she could paint her sadness onto paper sparrows and let them fly away. But that’s not the way it is with him. They have conversations with the words they never said to each other over coffee cups and crinkled letters. He holds her when her skin feels loose until the record finishes playing, and they have to go on with their lives. She has a place, and so does he, for the entire world sleeps.

She returns to the rooftop, closes her eyes, and begins. With swift movements of her hand, the bustling city wakes and she hears the music. Cars screeching, laughter, bus doors opening, and footsteps. Millions of footsteps. Some running, some strolling. Each footstep resounding with thoughts of people, places, things, but none of her. She raises her arms as if conducting a symphony of instruments without musicians and the sky opens up. Her hands twist and move in circular motions, pouring rain from the skies and people with long bodies open their hands over the earth. The sky darkens and the sun becomes hidden. She begins slowly, moving her hands in four count, and her face turns upwards toward the sky. Tiny water droplets lick the beautiful naïve faces below her as they open umbrellas. Parents call children inside their homes where is dry. Her hands move faster now, in mirroring triangles. The grass sighs in relief and people retreat beneath roofs. The relentless rain pummels the round tops of umbrellas and tin roofs. Drummers take pots and pans and leap from one to the other in the sky. Faster and faster still her hands move, and the birds begin their singing. They dance in the trees and in the streets beneath the dark open sky. They own the land.

She opens her eyes and sees him, standing in the road, letting the rain seep into his skin. Her arms stop moving and the entire world comes to a halt. She slides down on the wind toward his unmoving body. "Please,"she whispers. "I cannot do this anymore. I need someone to hold me. Like you used to."

But his eyes are empty.

She touches his cheek, but it feels cold now. She understands what she has done and what she has to do now. The winds lifts her back onto the rooftop and she looks down at him, one more time, wishing there was some other way. But she closes her eyes, and slowly raises her hands above the world. Gently, she traces his name in the air. Long hands in the sky uncover the world and the watering pails return upright. Drummers rest their bodies and the earth breathes again. Birds calm their excited song to sweet melodies. People slowly creep out of their homes, cautious of the outside world. They look in the sky and see a rainbow there.

She opens her eyes, one more time, and looks down at the place she cannot return to. He is smiling.