midnight nightmares and an epiphany for Taggert |
Chapter 11a A threefold cord is not quickly broken. Ecclesiastes 4:12 Hidden rooms underneath Ptitseferma Biological Station 0145, Thursday, 16.02.2462 Taggert twisted awake. His nightmare slithered in the shadows. His fatherâs ghost lingered there, too, a leather belt dangling from his fist and righteous rage contorting his face. Taggertâs heartbeat drummed in his ears, his breath heaved in his chest, and soggy sheets snaked about his limbs. Next to him, Kendi rolled to face him and murmured in his sleep. But it was his fatherâs soundless voice that echoed in his soul. Godâs voice. Pervert. Across the room, from the depths of darkness, the devilâs red eye blinked at him. He drew a shuddering breath and forced himself to sit up. The room came into focus. Not the devilâs eye, just a blinking light under the video screen. He was safe in their hideaway, in an underground tunnel beneath one of the faraway southern islands. His father was in Lansbury, too distant to use his leather lash. But God--God was everywhere. He couldnât escape God. He cupped his hands over his mouth, closed his eyes, and tamed his heart. Desjpite thier fight, or maybe because of it, he yearned for Kendiâs touch. For his voice. For his love. The afterglow of the sensual ecstasy theyâd shared just hours before still shone in the slant of Kendiâs lips, in the languid contour of his muscles, in the sheen of his perfect mocha-toned flesh. He'd called it make-up sex, but it was more than that. It was a re-confirmation of their bonding, of their love. How could loving such a miracle be a sin? He let Kendi sleep and padded to the adjacent room, the one where he could call up music. He sat at the console, put on headphones, and invoked one of the songs heâd found yesterday. Unchained Melody. It captured perfectly his hunger for Kendiâs touch, how his need swelled in a crescendo of longing, how his yearning ascended to the heavens. The melody and the relentless, pulsing, inevitable tempo matched the rhythm their love. Volume, pitch, and tone, all a reflection of love. It even ended with a prayer to God, a prayer bound to the certainty that God blessed love. But not just any love. The accompanying video of a man and a woman showed what kind of love that the God of the song blessed. Yesterday, heâd sung that song to Kendi. Love let him effortlessly reach the notes, the highs and lows. Yesterday, the song had lifted him up. Not tonight. Tonight his fatherâs voice darkened his soul. If this perfect love song depressed him, maybe he needed something uplifting. Perhaps a song of praise. He opened the search engine and used the keywords Kendi had taught him. Male vocalist. Popular. Twentieth Century. The ones that matched the no regrets song from his recital. Memory of his recital made him smile, but then he remembered the message that the devil had added to his copy of the recording. The message that sent them fleeing to this hole in the ground. Kendi was certain that the Navy techs had added that message. Heâd rolled his eyes at the notion the devil did it. Taggert wasnât so confident. This morning, he needed something positive, something reassuring. He frowned, and then added hallelujah to the key words. A song with that word of praise was sure to be uplifting. He played the first song on the list. The harmonies were lovely, and the melody would be easy to sing. Much easier than one heâd just listened to. But the words made him frown. They were a puzzle. The song ended in fading hallelujahs. Taggert chewed his lower lip and listened again. The notes, the harmonies and rhythms, those he understood. They were indeed beautiful. But the song was an enigma, a puzzle he couldnât solve. It was about King Davidâs sin, or at least it seemed that way. It started with how David pleased the Lord with a secret. But then it continued with him seeing her bathing on the roof, so she had to be Bathsheba. Thatâs when all went wrong, when he sinned. Was his love for her his secret? How could that please the Lord? How could he then sing hallelujah before the Lord of the song? He listened a third time to commit the words and melody to memory. Time enough later to puzzle it out. He erased hallelujah from the key words and added simple and faith. This time the screen filled with videos, all titled Simple Gifts. Taggert picked one with a male vocalist. The purity of the melody, the simplicity of the whole, filled him with awe. The words, though, those spoke to his heart. 'Tis the gift to be simple, 'tis the gift to be free 'Tis the gift to come down where we ought to be, And when we find ourselves in the place just right, 'Twill be in the valley of love and delight. The valley of love and delightâsuch a perfect description of how he felt when in Kendiâs embrace. They'd had a fight, but then they'd come down right. Truly, that was a gift. The simplest of gifts, in fact: their love for each other. Simple, but also the greatest gift of all. When he came to the verse that started 'Tis the gift to be loved and that love to return, his chin trembled and tears blurred his eyes. To be loved and to return love. That was Godâs gift. It was so simple, just as the song said. Why did it sometimes seem so hard? A warm hand squeezed his shoulder and he inhaled Kendiâs sweet scent. He removed the headphones and said, âSorry, I didnât mean to wake you.â Kendi gave a little shrug and glanced at the screen. âYou didn't wake me. I needed to pee and saw you were gone. Whatchya doinâ?â âJust listening to songs. I couldnât sleep.â A faint furrow of his brow and squint of his eyes showed Kendiâs concern. âAnother nightmare?â Taggert looked away. âYeah. It was nothing.â âYour father again?â âHe was there. Among others.â Taggert knew better than to mention the devil to Kendi. âI donât want to talk about it.â Kendi gazed at him in silence for a beat, then said, âTell me about the song you found.â âI found two. The first oneâs a puzzle, but this oneâŚwell, itâs special. Itâs called Simple Gifts.â He started to sing When true simplicity is gain'd, To bow and to bend we shan't be asham'd, To turn, turn will be our delight, Till by turning, turning we come 'round right. Kendi nodded. âItâs lovely. Whatâs it mean?â âItâs about how the best gifts are the simplest ones. Theyâre the most pure, and the purest of all is when we turn to each other, to be loved and to return that love.â âAnd to not be ashamed. Nice.â Something eased in Taggertâs chest, a knot untied and no longer constricted him. It was as though he had turned and, in turning, had come âround right, just like the song said. Then it struck him: that was why the first song sang hallelujah. The songs were about the same thing! He jumped to his feet in excitement and grasped both Kendiâs hands. âI just figured out the first song! I couldnât understand it all. It seemed to sing hallelujah to Davidâs sin.â Kendi frowned. âWhose sin?â âKing David. You know. David and Bathsheba.â Kendi freed himself and waved his hands in the air. âWho are they? People in Lansbury?â Taggert took a deep breath. âNo. Theyâre in the Bible. David lusted after Bathsheba, a married woman. He sent her husband, Uriah, off to die so that he could have her.â âUriah, huh?" A sly grin bent his lips. "Sounds like a pisser to me. So, this David guy. Heâs a selfish jerk, then?â âExactly. He sinned. But the songâit told the story and then sang hallelujah! I couldnât figure out why.â âBut now youâve figured it out.â âYes, Iâm sure of it." He sang the opening verses, including the one about the secret chord. It was't a chord, though, it was a cord! When he finished singing, he said, "The things David didâthose were sins. Especially what he did to Uriah. But the love he and Bathsheba shared with each other, that wasnât wrong. Love canât be wrong. Love is Godâs gift.â Doubt still lingered in Kendiâs voice. âWell, I canât disagree that itâs never wrong to love someone. Thatâs what Iâve been saying all along.â âDonât you see? Our love for each other is Godâs gift to us. Godâs present in that love, the secred cord that strengthens our love and blesses it. God is right there with us.â Kendi smirked. âIâm not really into three-ways.â Taggert gave him a blank look. He continued, âI think I get it. It's like when my lit teacher explained poems and shit to me. I especially remember a poem called Annabel Lee. You're like Mr. Railsback, making stuff clear." His eyes glowed. "When weâre together, really together, that connection feels eternal. Like it's divine. That's whar youâre saying, right?â âNot like it's divine. It is divine.â âThe difference between feeling divine and being divine is too deep for me.â Kendi ran a knuckle down Taggertâs cheek. âItâs enough that youâre happy.â He yawned. âI think Iâll go back to bed. Stay up if you need to. Itâs not like weâve got anything to do until Mysha comes for us. The mention of Mysha brought all their troubles, their other troubles, cascading back. His mood dampened and fatigue dragged at his muscles. He followed Kendi to their bed. Under the covers, he thought about David, about how he was a great and revered King, despite committing the sin of murder. Israel prospered under his rule. Maybe Kendi was right after all to place to put his hope on rescue by Dr. Golitsyn. It gave him something to think about. Kendi was already asleep, a faint snore buzzing from his lips. Taggert nestled his head against Kendi's strong chest and closed his eyes. Maybe things would turn out right after all. |