Clefford Harmony was a small boy, at ten years old, he managed to be the shortest in his class. His hair was not only unruly as hay but very nearly the same color. And although he rarely spoke, when he did it was usually in soft tones, as if he were afraid to bruise the silence. Clef had an older brother named Arthur. Well, that was his middle name, anyway. To Clef, Art was a hero, he had been given a free ride to a specialized music academy, so he was lonely most of the time.
The news that Arthur was coming home for a long weekend had cheered Clef up, and the fact that Art’s birthday landed squarely in the middle of it had him quite excited about the inevitable party.
Clef had poured his savings jar onto his bedspread and counted out the silver dollars that he had been saving for a special occasion. With a smile, he poured them into a gym sock from his dresser and shoved it into his jeans pocket. He grabbed his backpack and ball cap and tore out of the room.
***
Clef rarely left the house unattended, not for any unusual reasons, though. He just preferred to stay inside and practice playing the instruments that his parents had collected over the years. He had actually gotten quite passable with the concertina and piano, which was a feat he was quite proud of.
He stood in front of his older brother's bedroom door, looking at the flip sign that hung from a hook on it:
Threepwood Arthur is: OUT
He knew that it was pointless to try to go into Art’s room, he had jinxed it shut, and to his limited knowledge of such things, there was no way to unjinx it. He had hoped to get some insight into what might make a good birthday present. Shrugging, he ventured outdoors and headed towards the bus stop.
***
The bus ride was quiet, which he appreciated, and after two transfers he found himself standing outside of the Galleria. He gulped and headed inside, feeling the fear of something new, but unwilling to let it control him, he pressed on.
To say he was shocked was an understatement. He had glimpses from the outside, but it had not prepared him for the noise and color that assaulted him. Clef wandered, bedazzled by the apparently infinite number of shops that offered an equally infinite variety of goods left him somewhat overwhelmed.
A gravelly grey-green voice called out, causing him to turn and confront its owner, an overweight man in a security uniform
“You lost, son?”
***
Despite the shock, the guard who was named Harry, was quite helpful with Clefs’ decision on a gift for his brother. Armed with this new information, Clef stood in front of a music store, the colors of the music from within was close to drowning out his vision. Unslinging his backpack, clef pulled out a set of noise-cancellation earbuds and inserted them, immediately sighing with relief as the colors died down to a much more comfortable tone.
Now, to say that Clefford had no experience with modern music was an understatement. His mother, who was the principal of the private school that he attended was quite a music snob. Further, he had been forbidden to sing, so as long as Arthur was gone, there was no singing in the house.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
The store was lit by bright incandescent bar lights in the ceiling and filled with rows and rows of vinyl, CDs, magazines, posters, and other music paraphernalia. It was staffed by a girl of indeterminate age wearing heavy black makeup and an apathetic look as she incessantly chewed bubble gum that sent a brief flash of lime every time it popped.
Suddenly Clef felt a wave of anxiety as their eyes met and he looked around in a panic. He spied a bin of CDs with the label “Classic Rock” and his panic fell away. He hadn’t heard any of these bands before, but it said they’re classic, so they had to be good, right?
He pulled a CD out at random and glanced at the price.
"Good. I’ll be able to get it and have lunch." He thought, as his stomach rumbled in agreement.
He placed the CD and a stack of silver dollars on the counter. The clerk looked disdainfully at his choice, slipped the CD into a bag, and dropped the coins into the till before turning away.
***
Clef stared at the cover art, back and front the entire bus ride, fascinated with the entirety of it. Did the band had something to do with electricity? He would have to listen to it when he got home.
***
Shortly, Clef stood in front of the Stereo equipment that dominated most of one wall of the den, his finger hovering over the eject button of the CD player. His mother would have a fit if she knew he was using it but since she wasn’t around, he figured what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.
The tray slid silently out, practically begging for the new CD. Clef's hands shook as he fumbled the CD case open and placed the CD onto it.
As the disc disappeared into the machine, a faint hiss announced the arrival of the music. Clef’s jaw dropped as the music blared from the speakers, casting brilliant waves of blue and red into the air, the tones vibration causing the colors to shake and form delicate sine waves among each other.
Then the vocals came in. They felt so right, so in tune with the music, that all he wanted to do was hear it until the final strains faded out. He hit the back button and started it over. He felt the music take him away, and as the song began, he did the unthinkable.
He sang along.
Living easy, living free Season ticket on a one-way ride Asking nothing, leave me be Taking everything in my stride Don't need reason, don't need rhyme Ain't nothing I would rather do Going down, party time My friends are gonna be there too
The air crackled with energy, colors pumping from the speakers bent towards him, but his eyes tightly scrunched closed, remained oblivious to them, so he sang on, blissfully unaware of what was happening around him.
I'm on the highway to hell On the highway to hell Highway to hell I'm on the highway to hell
A sudden blast of heat pressed Clef backward, causing him to open his eyes in surprise. Where a wall of excruciatingly expensive electronics once stood, now hung rip in space, the very fabric of reality torn, revealing a blasted wasteland, illuminated darkly by a red light.
The stench of hot asphalt strong in his nostrils, the words caught in his throat, as he backpedaled away from this thing that should not be.
The asphalt began encroaching upon him, spilling out into the living room, igniting the expensive carpet that his mother constantly watched, lest some stray crumb or drop of drink ruin it.
From behind, the welcome voice of his brother shouted: "Stop it Clef!"
Arthur grabbed his little brother by the scruff of his jacket and flung him back, over the couch behind him.
“Clef! I need you to end it NOW!”
Clef’s mouth worked silently, his eyes full of confusion.
"Dammit." Arthur dove over the couch and rolled into a run towards his room. He emerged shortly, carrying a guitar. As he approached, he began strumming the strings, and the music began to dull, then silence entirely,
Like it had a zipper, the rip in space sealed as if it had never been there.
Clef's eyes took in the damage that had been done and flopped to the floor.
“Welcome home, Art.”
Arthur laughed, “Just so you know, you’re going to be the one to explain this to mom.”