Requiem for a Soldier (Requiem #1)

Chapter 20: Give and Take

April 27

Ryan

Today I brought Ana a little farther along the river to one of the best fishing spots. I was a little surprised yesterday when she agreed to go fishing with me. I dared her to catch something large enough to cook, so it's only fair if I give her a fighting chance. The bend in the river I've brought her to today has some slower spots where large fish like to rest lazily in the weak current. It's my favorite spot for salmon fishing in the summer.

Like last week, Ana doesn't seem particularly fond of fishing, but today she has a vested interest. I watch her from the corner of my eye as she stares at the water with a determined expression on her face. I can't help but smile.

"Fishing is supposed to be relaxing, you know," I say, watching her tense little form.

She turns her head to eye me. After giving me a sideways glare for a few moments, she turns back to the river. Her shoulders rise and fall with a deep breath. Her face turns to the sky and she closes her eyes. She begins to hum that song she sang the last time we were out fishing.

"Are you going to sing again?" I ask, then wish I hadn't.

Ana regards me with round eyes. "Why?" she asks.

I look away from her. "You have a nice voice," I say quietly.

I haven't heard music or singing in a long time, part of my self-imposed isolation from popular culture, the media, and the outside world. I was never a particularly avid fan of music, but hearing her sing has made me realize how much I've missed it over the last few years.

"I wish I had my guitar," she says.

"You play guitar?"

"Yeah, acoustic. Since I was eight. My dad taught me how."

I watch her carefully after this admission, but she doesn't break down into tears the way she did when she spoke of her sister's musical talent.

"Do you play any other musical instruments?"

She cocks her head as she thinks. "Ukulele, cello, and a little bit of violin." She shrugs. "I like strings."

"That's impressive. I can't imagine learning to play that many instruments. My parents forced me to play the cello for a few years in middle school. I hated it."

Ana's expression immediately changes to one of disapproval. I hurry to amend my statement.

"Not that I have anything against the cello. It seems like a great instrument. I just didn't like doing anything my parents forced me to do."

Ana's expression is now one of amusement. "Nice save," she says. "The cello is my favorite instrument. I could play cello all day."

"But you wished for your guitar," I point out.

"My guitar is very... forgiving. It's easier to play, it's not as expensive, and it can handle a lot more abuse than my cello can."

"So it's like the Mosin Nagant of stringed instruments," I say, indicating my dependable rifle.

Ana bursts into laughter.

"Only you would compare musical instruments with rifles," she says, shaking her head and smiling at me. "But I suppose your analogy has some element of truth to it."

I smile back at her and decide to buy her a guitar. Sitting so close to her in the bright sunlight, I can see that Ana's eyes aren't just the warm brown they appear to be from a distance. Her irises have streaks of green radiating out from her pupils. The effect makes her eyes mesmerizing. I find myself staring into her eyes for much longer than I should. She continues to look back at me, her eyes widening as her expression becomes serious.