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~~~

Charlie

After the long and grueling process of clearing out our rooms and packing the moving trucks was over, we hauled our infinite supply of cardboard boxes into the house. It still amazes me that we have a home, Sky and I, all to ourselves. So many memories were made at the old apartment, who knows how many we could make here. It was a fresh start, a great opener to the painstaking journey that would be adulthood.

It took several hours, but once the moving truck was completely vacant and all the heavy boxes were stacked on top of each other in the various rooms of the new house, Sky and I rejoiced. '680 Foley Lane' was now listed as under the property of Charlie Cooperton (and Skyler Clawfield).

The sun was beginning to set after a long and tiring day, and once the movers who helped us with the boxes had driven off with their truck, Sky and I took one last tour around the house. This time, we directed it ourselves.

We started by chasing each other around the spacious, vast halls, removing our shoes and socks to feel the floor with our bare feet. Sky hid behind boxes as I pretended to be a zombie again, searching for his flesh to feast on. We then walked out onto the balcony as the sun actually began to set.

We looked out at the view, still marveling that it was ours. I mean, it was unbelievable. You don't normally find a house this astonishing with such a perfect price. We would only be renting it, though, buying it in full is a whole other story.

Sky searched in the various boxes that lay in the living room and pulled out his suitcase Victrola, along with a 7" 45 RPM vinyl record he owned for ages. He plugged it into the outlet that was on the balcony and carefully placed the record on the metal tip. He turned on the machine and the record spun around in a rotating motion. He carefully slid off the casing of the needle and held it above the first few indents of the record, pushing the small lever down. The needle then lowered onto the record, static emitting from the speakers.

I sat on the couch, sinking into the cushions and the breeze, watching him stand up, waiting for the tune to start playing. Suddenly, an upswing of drums and guitar sounded, playing the first few notes of 'I Want To Hold Your Hand' by the Beatles. Sky tapped his foot and nodded his head as the song increased in volume. I sat up and leaned over, resting my chin on my fist, intrigued to see where this was going.

When the lyrics began, Sky held up his fist to his mouth to symbolize holding a microphone, dramatically turning his head to me and belting the lyrics: "Oh, yeah, I'll tell you something,"

"Wow," I mouthed as he rocked his head back and forth to the beat exaggeratedly.

"I think you'll understand," Sky continued, his off-tune vocals making me laugh. Sky held his hand out to me, beckoning me to join, singing: "When I say that something, I wanna hold you haaaaaand!"

He tried to pull me up from the couch before the next line, but he was too weak for a strong husky like me. I stood up chuckling, joining him on the wooden platform. I wove my left paw with his right paw and placed my right arm around his waist, Sky doing the same with his left arm.

"I wanna hold your haaaaaand," I joined in with a complicated riff, my voice actually in tune. Sky smiled widely, containing his laughter, face-planting into my shoulder. I continued to sing as we swayed back and forth to the music, dancing like Emma Stone and Ryan Gosling in La La Land.