He wasn't a child anymore acting as a grand pianist sitting at his father's piano. The keys indented beneath his fingers, white and black taking turns to hit a note from a distant recollection. A chord was struck to make a sound. It was bad, done poor in coordination as he hit the wrong key. By memory a tune of an old Santana song was played, albeit poorly. His attempts were premature, not allowing the music to fill him as it did hearing his father play or the musical genius his little brother seemed to be. Nasim's anxiety about being around his brother was due to feeling incompetent, less adjusted in his own life, as the young man was going places that their parents and shared siblings would respect him for. The college senior was on his way out the door in studies that might help people someday, aiming to continue and envy of such regarded focus translated in the striking way he played the keys. Jealously never had its place in the Haddad home but unreachable expectations did. That trickled down from mother, father, then to older sisters and so on. Being the oldest son, a lot of weight piled on his shoulders from the start. As each child was treated the same, there was a different place for Nasim. He was lost in the shuffle most of the time and it showed as he tried to step off the train to hitch a ride on a stray car. A real life boxcar kid turned an adult all too fast when he made the decisions that cost him a far more laborious course.
Only when he set his mind to do something, to take it by the bullhorns, that objectives were beatable. He could accomplish whatever it was he wanted, on his own terms and with his own way of figuring it all out. Knuckleheaded, distracted easily, and quick to move on to the next bright shiny thing, led him to where he was now. Tapping away being the least musically inclined was a small hurdle when he possessed the ambition to gather himself as a true force to be reckoned with. The man was nearing thirty in the months to come and when he touched that next age bracket, where seriousness mattered, and buckling down was key, his fears decided to step in. Looking just over his shoulder at the youngest Haddad, he gave an up nod, the motion to step forth so they could work out the song properly. Admitting he needed help took more out of him when he prided on doing it all on his own. As the thinner and slightly shorter statured younger male eased next to his older brother, he too placed his fingers on the keys, jumping in without fear. Both lacked the words but read Nasim's body language that echoed being unsure.
"You're missing a key. Not taking your time to rush through. It is a smooth number, brother and requires some finesse," his brother immediately said with quick observation.
"I'm rusty, akh." Light eyes glanced over very quickly as not to lose a step when following his little brother's digits move across his side of the store's piano. He didn't realize why they were in there in the first place but if his brother wanted to flex his fingers, and reminisce about the days of complete innocence, he was up for it. Sitting side by side felt like he shrunk in size, Benjamin Buttoning to an age he remembered. He was twelve, and a four-year-old tiny person hopping along ready to follow his lead. It was like old times, except his lead was non-existing but his brother Haseem's was. Words passed back and forth in their first tongue. Arabic brokered in with bits of English. Looks were shot in their direction and to which was annoyed.
"HEY! There we go. One more and we can break out of here for food," Haseem exclaimed as the in sync chords came together without major hiccups. Nasim followed the kid's lead, tapping against the piano because it brought him back to a place he always needed the reminder of. If working up to accomplish visiting the rest of his family began with time spent with his little brother, he was willing to consider the larger leap.
