Chapter Text
Summer months in the Bay meant a lot of gloomy weather. Dense fog would blow in from the northern coast at night, from there it settled into Muir Woods getting everything damp and slick along with fierce winds. Climbing trees and exploring around the grove had been prohibited out of safety concerns. Amani and Caesar found other things to do in Cathedral Grove for a while. Huddling inside their hollowed tree, they created worlds and stories within them in the glow of lantern light. Eventually, however, the resulting hassle of mud-caked shoes and tangled clumps of fur were not worthwhile.
Further inland, areas shielded within mountain ridges and rolling hills were nothing but clear blue skies. That Saturday Amani trotted up the Rodman's porch steps with Caroline. A whimsical, melodious piano tune emanated from their home. It sounded like music that her art teacher often played in the background during class. Perhaps a track from some modern film, a theme for the hero's mundane and peaceful life, before earth shattering conflict arose.
Will guided them inside with an affectionate hand which, Amani noted, lingered on Caroline's back. They were only slightly more tolerable with their public displays of affection than the lovebird's at school. Amani slipped between them, needing to find Caesar so they could enjoy listening to the music together.
The song faded out as she walked down the hall, transitioning to a thunderous and urgent sound. Amani jolted as if struck, pulse skipping. Yet she grew even more intrigued.
Entering the living room, she basked in the contained warmth of Summer's hot white light spilling through a curved bay window, closing her eyes briefly and savoring it. Then she surveyed the room. A clash of personalities made up the living space, biology equipment and tools, sheet music books and subscriptions to the local theater laid on every surface. Signs of peaceful cohabitation were also present in framed photographs neatly lined the shuttered fireplace's mantle. And in the corner sat Caesar and his grandfather at the piano.
Except Charles Rodman wasn't merely sat at the piano. He was swaying and rocking to the music, his red sweater flared over the bench like some grand coat specially outfitted for a concert performance. Caesar bounced up and down in restless excitement alongside him. When the tempo slowed Caesar would freeze, head at a tilted angle watching Charles' fingers dancing over the keys, mesmerized.
For the next couple of minutes, Amani stood there, hand grasping the door frame. Each note tremored and hummed beneath her palm. Her imagination conjured images of a ship lost in anl violent storm, then a brief reprieve from its turmoil, followed by a sense of foreboding, and ultimately drawn back into chaos. Amani liked it. She wanted to draw it, pencil colors would be appropriate for the mood. She found herself tapping her fingers to the beat, head bobbing along with the rhythm.
Caesar noticed her after the song ended. Her space buns and sunflower yellow shirt were hard to miss. His slouched form shot up, the flecks of green in his eyes catching spark. He slid off the bench and grabbed her hand, tugging her forwards just as Charles swivelled around in confusion at his sudden disappearance.
"There you are!" Charles chuckled, getting up and tucking the music sheet under his arm. "Now we have a party." Bending at the waist, he extended his free hand in greeting and introduced himself. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Amani. Your name comes up a lot in the Rodman household."
Amani took his hand in her free one, ducking her head as she whispered out a bashful "hello." She snuck a glimpse at Caesar from under her lashes noticing that he appeared equally, if not more, sheepish.
"What were you playing just now?" she found herself asking, unable to hold in her curiosity.
Charles' brows quirked upwards, pleased by her interest and clearly eager to elaborate. "Vivaldi's Summer, third movement. The piece before that–I'm not sure if you might've heard it walking up–was the second." He drummed his fingers on the music sheet and hummed the melody briefly, nodding inquisitively for clarification. "What did you think?"
She didn't hesitate to answer, brow furrowing in deep thought. "It was nice, but if that's supposed to be Summer, than it sounds like it does in the Bay."
Charles' laughter was boisterous. "That it does," he said warmly in approval, "a keen observation." Tossing the music sheet on the coffee table, he fixed them with a stern look. "But it's a beautiful day around here. You two shouldn't be cooped up inside during Summer."
In her peripheral, she noticed Caesar signing to Charles whose mouth thinned unhappily as he sighed in response.
"Still, it's been a while since I've played for anyone outside of family." He indicated that Amani should take his spot on the bench next to Caesar. "As for teaching, my only student is Caesar these days."
Caesar chose that moment to heavily drag his hands across the keys.
"Does Will play, too?" Amani asked, fingers lightly brushing against the keys.
Charles propped an elbow on the top of what she'd later learned was called an upright piano. "Oh, very well. It runs in the family." Charles' voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, mouth ticking downwards in a mocked grimace. "Imagine my surprise when he comes home one day and tells me and his mother that he wants to be a scientist."
Caesar was playing gently now and it was the same two notes back and forth non-stop.
Amani tried to imagine the soft spoken, mild-mannered scientist conveying the despairing, frenzied tone for something like the third movement of Vivaldi's Summer, and couldn't.
Sensing her disbelief, Charles grinned. "This might surprise you, but science and music were considered one and the same a long time ago. In fact, it was the ancient Greeks who classified music as one of the four main branches of mathematics."
"So was Will a great piano player?"
"He was, but we both realized he was in it more for the passion than the technical aspect."
***
When Amani was nine her parents took her to a travelling circus.
She remembered it vividly; the swirling lights, dazzling outfits, and seeing an elephant for the first time. Her favorite act had been watching the trapeze artists soaring and performing stunts more than twenty feet high.
Seeing how far the human body could push itself never ceased to amaze her. In the National Park Service family, extreme sports were a part of life. In Alaska, there had been a community of ice climbing and snow boarding rangers that her father joined.
"Humans are physically and mentally capable of surviving more than what we perceive as beyond our limitations," Amani's father had told her during an intermission. "We've been marked for great things in this world. It's a shame many forget that with the comforts of advancing technology and pointless wars."
Her mother tutted and said, "maybe so, love, but humans did not have wings."
When Amani saw Caesar climbing the holds attached onto his wall, a cold sense of dread washed over her. He made a leap and soared across the air like the trapeze artists had that day. He grabbed one of the exposed ceiling joists, swinging upwards on the momentum then landed into a crouched position. Amani was not confident in her own agility and strength for such a feat. Caesar stared expectantly at her, motioning for her to join him.
Biting her lip, she fidgeted with the metal clasps on her denim overalls, although they were already loosened enough to not be hindering. There were no harnesses or safety gear to protect her should she fall. She imagined the multicolored holds as features jutting out of a tall boulder on Mount Tamalpais. Free climbing, she recalled the term from a daredevilled park ranger back in Yosemite. Her mother referred to that particular ranger as suicidal.
"I don't think I can do this, Caesar," she confessed in a small voice.
She heard him drop behind her with a thud. Amani faced him, pouting miserably, shoulders drooping in defeat. Caesar frowned concerncedly for a moment, studying her before his mouth set in determination, grunting. "Amani is safe. Trust Caesar?"
She felt herself nodding despite her throat growing dry in trepidation. "Amani trust Caesar."
Caesar went over to his bed, shoving the mattress off the blue frame and tugged it near the wall. An impromptu safety mat, she realized.
"Trust Caesar," he implored, then brushed a hand against her arm in a comforting gesture.
Amani swallowed thickly, nodding. "I trust you," she croaked.
Heart pounding, she turned around and clutched one of the holds in a vice grip and secured a foot on another. Taking a deep breath, she gradually ascended with Caesar's soft, supportive hooting urging her on. She climbed and climbed, until she must've gone eight feet high and unable to move anymore. Amani glanced over her shoulder to the nearest wall stud, then looked down at Caesar. Big mistake. She whirled back around, eyes squeezing shut.
Caesar cried out, grabbing her attention once more, he pointed at the wall stud behind her and gesticulated on what to do next. When she leaned forward, the tip of her index finger barely brushed against it. She would have to jump.
Caesar gave her a nod of confidence, his eyes shifting back and forth to her and the wooden stud.
Amani kicked off the climbing hold with all her might and–
Her heart felt like a bird swooping out of its cage as she plummeted.
But her hands firmly slapped against the wood, fingers locking into the wedge of the interconnecting stud and slanted ceiling frame. Grunting, she nimbly scrambled up and planted a foot on the frame, feeling a little lightheaded. She dared not look down. With a little squatting and weaving, she stood, pulling herself up and onto the joist and straddling it. Amani bowed her head, panting with exertion and adrenaline. Below, she could hear Caesar whooping with pride.
Seconds later, she heard Caesar at her side. He gave her a congratulatory pat on the shoulder as he gibbered excitedly. Amani finally looked up, beaming at him, chin raised in a show of pride.
Confident that she was secured, Amani looked around. She marveled at the full obstacle course set up within the attic that she was too overwhelmed to notice before. There was a small wooden ladder bridging to the next joist over, gymnastic rings tied around the exposed ceiling joists above his bed, and a giant blue exercise ball dangling on another chain. He even had an indoor zipline.
For the time being, however, she was content right where she was.
She hadn't noticed Caesar had brought something up with him until he was presenting it. A paper airplane.
"Not bad," Caesar signed, teasing.
She took it off his hands, appreciating the cool spaceship design he'd made.
"Not bad yourself," she said, flipping the airplane over.
"Amani chase it?" he asked, clearly still teasing her as he sat on his haunches, readying himself.
"Not unless your spaceship can turn into a real one," she replied sarcastically, giggling as she tossed it.
***
After lunch, the sun's white light cracked open like an egg, filling the kitchen in a yellowish-orange warmth. Caesar and Amani were at the table enjoying their snack; chocolate chip cookies and milk. A mini car zoomed on the table's surface and Amani caught it. Flipping it around, she dragged it backwards, feeling a slight resistance from the gears rotating in the cheap transparent plastic, hearing it click-click-clicking before she let it go. It bumped into his cup, taking a sharp turn left and careening off the table.
Minutes earlier, he'd asked Amani what school was like and she was currently reminiscing on the group of kids she'd walked to school in the dark with back in Alaska. Now his attention was directed towards the window. Outside, Amani could discern at least four boys halfheartedly fussing about who popped the highest wheelie, drowning out a younger girl yelling to her brother that their mom bought popsicles. It baffled Amani when Caesar explained that he couldn't play outside. Not even in his own backyard.
Caesar's chest rose and fell, his sigh barely audible, as if a great weight made it difficult to breathe. He looked anxious all of a sudden, lost in his thoughts.
"The Bay won't be gloomy forever," she softly reassured him. "We'll go back soon."
They sat in silence for a long moment. Amani felt a surge of protectiveness towards Caesar, desperately wishing to help cheer up her friend.
"Why can't you go outside?" she asked, frowning.
"Caesar scared neighbor." He frowned, brows knitting in confusion as he further explained the incident which lead him and Will to meeting Caroline.
Amani scowled, indignant on his behalf. "But you didn't do anything wrong!" she cried out. "He attacked you!"
Caesar's eyes widened, having never seen this side of her. He shook his head as if the violent man living next door didn't matter.
"Is that how you got this?" she asked, pointing to his scar with worried eyes.
"No," he signed, amusement twinkling in his eyes. "Caesar birthmark."
"Oh." She deflated, only a little, then perked up as she scrutinized his scar. "Oh! I have one, too, wanna see?"
That seemed to interest him anyway, so Amani unclasped her left suspender and tugged her shirt collar down. "It's not as cool as yours, though." Below her collarbone was a perfectly oval bluish-green spot the size of a quarter. "Birthmarks are supposed to have special meanings," she said, fixing her shirt with a frown. "Like your past lives, or the future."
"Amani birthmark?" he asked.
"I don't know," she answered, shrugging. "Like I said, mine is kind of boring." Amani had an aunt with a heart shaped birthmark on her wrist that she liked to bring attention to with charm bracelets, and she was happily married.
"Caesar birthmark?"
Amani hummed, squinting. "Yours looks like..." She reached out, tracing it, a small smile flitting to her face. "Yours looks like a shooting star."
This pleased Caesar who patted the scar with something like reverence. Amani pondered what the shooting star meant for him, after all, the first chimpanzee went to space decades ago.