Hear No Evil

In the morning, I was exhausted, and my body creaked with ache and fatigue. I don’t know how long my panic attack lasted, but it was the longest one yet, and on top of that it was late at night. After their prayers had finished and I’d obliged to be carried to bed—again in the Canadian seat of embarrassment—I wrote in my journal. I had been very careful about journaling this year, making sure each day was explained in poetic detail. I left out something though, that I will always remember: the lack of follow-through.

After all their prayers, after all the words and the smiles and the hands touching me, no one acted any differently. No one made attempts to make me feel wanted, or that I belonged. I went to bed alone with my iPod. It was broken, fried by the heat and probably sand, and stuck on the ‘Soundtracks’ playlist. I went to sleep with RENT and Beauty and the Beast, but no one said goodnight.

 

Groaning and hopping, I went to the bathroom and changed into my jeans. And I must tell you, it is a challenge to change your pants with only one foot to stand on, especially in a moving boat.

 

Back on my couch, there were people slowly walking in and out. A large group was going to take the boys’ boat up the lake, to hike towards a waterfall. Lucas, also exhausted, was debating on whether or not to go. He searched the shores and the boats for a reason to stay behind. His knees hurt. I told him even if I hadn’t been injured, I wouldn’t have gone on the hike. And then, as though he’d seen me for the first time, he exclaimed, “That’s my excuse! I’ll stay here and hang out with Katie!”

 

I reminded him about the song briefly. After another gruesome moment of debating on what to do, he made a frantic face at me, and ran to the boys’ boat for his guitar before they launched. He came back with his guitar case, and three backpacks. We had some art to make.

 

To my disappointment, we didn’t start on the song right away. I was ready to get going, to make my poem musical. Instead we spent some time coloring, and making a diorama. I found out later it was for the girl back home he claimed to be in love with, which makes me very bitter now. But at the time, it was tremendously relaxing, and above all it was a source of entertainment. I made Charlie the Unicorn—the one that goes to Candy Mountain—and a princess, and a castle. I have to tell you that dioramas are not easy when their theme is “crazy magic candy mountain lake land”, or something to that effect. When I got tired of cutting and pasting, I whipped out some crayons and pretended to not be bored and miserable. I was successful. No one noticed how annoyed or irritated I was.

 

And then, just when I was starting to adjust to the monotony of crayon scent and construction paper, Lucas brought his guitar to the table. I stared at him blankly for a moment, before it seemed my entire body tingled with anticipation.

 

We worked on the song for hours. He had claimed boldly and with confidence that I was the real artist, and that should anyone want to hear the song I would have to sing it.

 

“It’s your song, Katie,” he said, his eyes saying clearly that I needed to believe it myself.

 

“Alright… what do you think about the key of A?” I held my chin in my hands, thoughtfully staring at the paper. “I like A.” 

 

“Don’t we do ‘The Valley Song’ in A?”

 

“Yes. I like A.”

 

“Are you sure you want to do it in A? It sounds kind of like a sad song. Maybe an A minor.” He smiled then, sheepishly. “Then again… don’t we do Only You in A minor?”

 

“And everyone hates that song in A minor.” I smiled back. “Well… how about D?”

 

We tried it in the key of D. And despite the fact that we hated it in the key of D right off the bat, we continued with it for a good hour. It’s definitely a very high range for me, and I struggled endlessly with the first line of the song because of it’s octave. Things became easier with the second verse, but my throat was teetering on the edge of exhaustion and death.

 

So we took a break from music. We colored some more. He made me some tea. And we worked on lyrics. In search of a second chorus, or a third verse even, I let him see my notebook. I showed him my other drafts of the poem. It was like a journey almost, as though we were holding hands and I was guiding him through the maze of my emotion. He gazed at my words in awe, noting how I wrote his initials next to all the drafts. He was flattered. And slightly embarrassed. And I didn’t care.

 

We managed to write a bridge, and a second chorus, though they weren’t much different lyrically. It was the chords that mattered, the harmonies. We went back to work. He wrote down the new additions in his wormy, crawling handwriting. He made some comment about liking my pen, how it was so smooth.

 

“What’s a good key that goes with D?” he asked me. “I’m thinking about doing a key change for the bridge.”

 

“Um… B something? I can sing B. And we could put the bridge into D.” At this point my excitement had faded slightly, and I was feeling very businesslike.

 

Lucas smiled at me. “That sounds like a plan.”

 

I’m pretty sure we decided on B minor. But since I haven’t been able to read music since I was about 10,  I can’t be positive, but it’s definitely B something. After we had set out the chord progression and the structure, we played the song. We played it endlessly and with such repetition that the others in the room started staring at us in a way that clearly said they wanted to be annoyed, but found it difficult to find fault in art.

 

That night, after dinner and discussion, we had a worship session on top of the girls’ boat. (It was the cleanest.) By that time my ankle was feeling a little less fragile, and I knew that if I didn’t participate I would feel pretty depressed. I managed to hop out to the ladder-esque staircase, and by putting all the pressure on my toes, I easily and slowly made it to the top. I’m surprised that I didn’t slip, since everything had some portion of the lake on it. Still, I made it somehow, and took my place among my friends.

 

We spent a while singing requested pieces. We sang all the typical favorites, the soft and emotional ones, and a few of the more rambunctious songs, but everything has a more relaxed feel to it when it’s played with a few acoustic guitars. And of course everything sounds so much freer and genuine when you’re on top of a boat, in the middle of an endless lake, singing to the heavens.

 

After a while, I got tired of standing, considering I was hanging on to the railing so as not to slip. I was heading back towards the staircase to go to bed, when from behind me I heard some very familiar chords. A grin split my face, and with some difficulty I turned on the spot, and met Lucas’ eyes. He was playing our song.

 

I had almost forgotten what it was like to sing something when no one knew the words. As I opened my mouth, as my voice rose from my exhausted and nervous chest, I realized it was my voice all alone. Lucas joined me on the chorus, and it was more comfortable, but it was such an impromptu thing. Everyone was staring at me. Everyone was watching my quivering lips, my jerky smile, the way I kept looking back to Lucas for encouragement.

 

And then I was in awe. In awe of music. In awe of myself. As I sang, and I looked around, I saw the effects of the words, of the notes. There was power in the lyrics. The song beat back at the waves of the lake. It whispered desperately at the clouds. It shone in everyone’s eyes and knocked on the doors of their hearts. It was emotionally intense, in that minor key it wasn’t surprising, but as the song rocked along with the boat and the bridge’s harmony began to rush from our lungs fervently, I stared out into the diamond scarred canvas of summery night sky, and at the tired glitters in everyone’s eyes. I saw that having my words thrown out at the sea the sky and these people--it was like having the world hear my soul.

 

It’s a good thing that darkness is something not caught by ears.

Reviews

[Elise O'Haire]

"I saw that having my words thrown out at the sea the sky and these people--it was like having the world hear my soul.
It's a good thing that darkness is something not caught by ears."

These words right here. WOW!! This was another awesome chapter. By the way, is this a true story...considering the main character's name is Katie and your name is Katie? Can't wait for the next one!