Three pieces of music today, a triptych of the soul. Nourishment, like a gentle rain. I Never Thought I’d Live To Be A Hundred, I Never Thought I’d Live To Be A Million, and finally, Watching and Waiting, which takes us right up to the edge.
.A short bit today.
They made it through the line with plenty of time to spare; Dina’s eyes kept darting about like a cornered animals, and the closer they got to the boarding area the more they darted – yet by the time they stepped into the front row of the little boat she could hardly breathe…
“Dina?” Tracy asked. “Are you alright?”
Dina shook her head. “Something’s not right. Something is going to happen.”
“Grandma-ma? What do you mean?”
“Can’t you feel it?” Dina hissed. “Like a black place…gravity is pulling and stretching us…” she just managed to say as she began weeping. “Time blowing up all around us…slipping away…we’re slipping away…like the wind, the wind all around us…” she said as the little boat took off into the twilit bayou – with moss draped trees on one side and a restaurant full of happy revelers on the other…and they drifted along, on the threshold of forever, just before they fell into a maelstrom of dancing fireflies lost inside the wind…
“What the hell is going on?” Tracy cried. “There’s something going on alright, and something is most definitely not right…” she whispered as their little boat began falling away through windblown fireflies into complete darkness…
Then in an instant the sensation of speed, of an immense stretch of time passing in the blink of an eye, inflated as new, discordant feelings grew beyond gut-wrenching – but by that point Dina had been screaming for hours.
He was aware of them, of course. How the chill waters of the Pacific grew warm as they surrounded him. How, with his head just out of the water, their huge black faces seemed to tower over his own. Yet – he was just barely aware of their presence – as music seemed to be flooding through the fabric of the universe – pushing everything else aside. A strange piece, classical, almost a dirge, and as he bobbed on the waves he felt an endless sorrow unfolding around them all – this pod of orcas and himself.
Then…a new feeling, and this latest impression was unmistakable…that the music was coming from…his orca…this new friend of his.
The orca came close and leaned-in to meet Henry halfway, and instinctively Henry turned to meet his friend. He placed the side of his face on the orca’s, right beside the whale’s huge brown eye, and the music exploded – literally exploded into his mind.
Then the visions came. Of strangers. Of people he had never known. Yet.
‘How do I know that?’ he asked the orca.
‘Listen. See with your heart.’
Then he saw Edith with two men, men he must’ve known once, or would know someday.
And then that music again…the dirge…surrounding him, filling his soul with despair.
Then another explosion of light.
A boy. The eyes of a child. Seeing the world again, through the eyes of a child…
Sitting between two women? ‘Why? Do I know them? Is that his mother? His grandmother? Who are these people?’
Then the orca pulled away, contact broken. Images like sand falling to the bottom of an hourglass, because his life was passing too quickly now, the last sands slipping through his fingers.
He opened his eyes and looked around.
The orcas were gone. Nowhere to be seen.
But the boat was gone, too. Rupert. Pete. All of them. Everything gone.
Then…another orca. A female. Very old, almost ancient.
A grandmother. The real leader of the pod.
She came up to him and looked him in the eye.
No…that’s sympathy I see, isn’t it?
“Why do you feel sorry for me?” he asked.
She leaned close, her meaning clear. He leaned into her.
“Come with me. It is time.”
“Time? What do you mean?”
“Your time. It is at an end. Come with me.”
She moved away and began to swim off, then he saw she was turning, circling him, waiting for him to join her, but only when he was ready.
Henry Taggart went to her, he reached out to her, and when he had hold of her she started down into the darkness.
‘This is so easy,’ he thought as his mind gave up on the idea of taking another breath.
Pinpricks. Like starshine on his naked soul. Pinpricks and light. Cold light. Light wiping away the darkness. Then that vision again, of the boy with two women by his side.
‘I know that music,’ Henry Taggart sighed. ‘How many times was I there? Yo-ho, yo-ho…’
He thought he felt Edith just before he felt Claire standing there inside the blinding light – and now she was like the wind, the wind with her arms all around him.
Come Alive is at an end, and I hope you have enjoyed the trip. In the not too distant future look for a coda, and look to The Eighty-Eighth Key for all your unanswered questions. This work © 2020-21 adrian leverkühn | abw | this was a work of fiction, pure and simple. All music herein quoted under the Creative Commons, including lines from Yo Ho (A Pirate’s Life for Me) © 1967 by the Walt Disney Music Co. Ltd., music by George Bruns, lyrics by Xavier Atencio.
One last piece, one last fragment of music to carry you on your way. Hope you enjoy.