Prologue-
Some say that songs and music are the things that bind this world together, the reason we are and become what we will. The reason that sound is all around us at all times and in all things.
It's something about a tune, a strand of music that can bring back a long lost memory. One that was lost to the dark is suddenly brought to light in a brilliant flash. Makes you remember things like those early morning fishing trips when the moon would still dance on the water, or your first kiss down by the creek. The few notes that would bring you back to the time you fell in love on a muggy summer night, or the moment you found out just how cold the world could be.
It's just something about the music that powers and triggers us, opens our eyes to a new sunrise on the eve of life. You know the one I'm talking about, like the one that plays the moment that we all think to ourselves for a second and decide maybe the best thing to do is to simply walk away...
"By myself alone
I know I see you
On the breath
Of something known
Taking a look at things
The things all around you
I'll be the one
That stands the ground beside you."
*****
"I'll walk away..."
Collin closed his eyes, letting the single tear fall down his cheek that had pooled in his bright sapphires. A woman sat beside him, stroking his back softly as she stared on into the mass of people, meeting a fleeting glance from the preacher. She shook her head sadly, leaning down to hug Collin tenderly before leaving him alone on the wooden pew.
He drew in a staggered breath, sobbing quietly into his hands as the rest of the mass began to leave, a violin playing out what his heart begged for them to understand. There would never be any more of the kind smiles he adored, nor the stories he longed to hear. They were all gone from him now.
Gathering what strength he had left, Collin lifted his heavy limbs to the front of the chapel to look one last time at the empty form that had been his mother only days before. She was still beautiful, still vibrant in her white silk gown she'd worn on her wedding day. His father had gone two years before, the same violin crying for them both just as Collin did.
It had seemed so simple in the early years, happiness and unconditional love surrounding him in a soft blanket of warmth and memories. That song used to have more meaning, more sounds then a sad, slow bow pulled across strings. He could remember that, the days in the late summer that they'd sit in the quiet and listen to the old records or the radio. He could feel it then, believe it because life was so sweet.
He laid a hand on the smooth wood, letting another drop fall as he shut the lid in his last farewell. The preacher shut his bible, saying a quiet prayer as he placed it on top of the casket, crossing himself as he bowed his head and walked from the room, leaving Collin alone in the growing darkness.
"I know I never said it enough, and now it's too late to change. I was a fool to believe that it was going to turn out so much better when I decided to walk away."
He shut his eyes again, leaning in close enough for his lips to touch the wood before he too backed away for the last time. Everyone was gone when he stepped out onto the grass, the sun glowing a brilliant crimson beyond the cliffs and the water below. It set the sky on fire, the clouds rising like steam to clean the stars so they could shine so brightly.
He sighed, taking in the feel of the wind as he walked away, back to an empty home of memories that he would never forget, back to the place that lost it's hum of energy as suddenly as it had begun. No more hunting out in the forest beyond the back fence, no more home cooking over the old wood-burning stove, and no more stories of how his grandpa would always be a hero in everyone's eyes.
Collin fell onto his bed, hugging his old quilt tightly around him, the scent of his mother's caring hands still lingering like a silent ghost. She had finally let go of the things that had held her and kept her, helped her to go back, but he could never let go of her.
"Is there anything ever as hard as this? Why is once loved always lost?"
He fell into a restless slumber, shedding tears into his pillow as he continued to mourn. What he saw in his dreams was meant to comfort him that night, though they did little to soothe his aching heart. The morning, when the sunlight first made him open his eyes, he could only remember two visions from his dreams. The first was as if he was looking down on himself, the figure of his mother sitting on the edge of his bed and gently kissing him before he walked away. The second was again of her, dressed in flowing white robes, speaking to a gathering of angels around her. Slowly, one angel hugs her tightly, then spreads her wings and fades from the image.
He sat out on the porch with his morning cup of coffee, watching the sun make it's morning trek beyond the clouds. He could hear the waves breaking on the sandy shoreline below, birds cawing softly out in the distance. There was no other human sound besides his drinking and gentle sighs that he would expel every few moments. No more family, no more friends, only the sky to tell him that he wasn't alone.
Collin stood in the doorway of his parent's room, light filtering aimlessly through the curtains down to the bed. He walked to his father's side, reaching down to grasp the case that hadn't been moved in almost a year. Placing it on the bed, he slowly lifted the latches and removed the top. Sniffling, he picked up the instrument, resting it on his shoulder before pulling the bow against its strings.
He had learned it to make his mother smile, to see that glimmer of hope that had been lost when his father had. He played their song, soft and slow, the way he remembered it from when it was first played for him. It always made him cry, the way his mother would hug him, tell him that was the true song of love, the one that would play when the right one came. But to him, it was also the song of grievances, of lost memories and comfort.
He moved out to the living room, taking the violin with him and simply held it as he rocked in the old chair. It seemed to him to be the last living thing in the house, because not even the old ghosts could speak so meaningfully to him as the music did. Through the hours, he'd play for a few minutes before falling into silence again, rocking on the wooden floor. It was the only way he felt truly content with himself.
The light was fleeting into reds and oranges once more when he glanced out the window, watching it dance against the water. He wiped the tears growing in his eyes with his sleeve, wishing that someone, anyone, would be there with him, understand the pain that he couldn't drown with all of his tears.
As he got up to put away the instrument again, he heard a soft knock on the front door. Surprised, he opened it cautiously to be greeted by a warm smile, and wide wondering emerald eyes. Her light brown hair drifted about her shoulders, the sun behind her making her glow with a light aura.
"I was just walking by, and I heard someone playing. Was it you?"
Her voice was almost a song to him, flowing tones to his forsaken ears.
"Yes, yes. Come in?"
She nodded as he moved aside, letting her pass into the small room. She looked at everything quickly, turning back to him.
"Would you play it again? It's like I've heard it before, but I can't place it."
"It would be my pleasure."
She sat on one of the old overstuffed chairs as he began again, letting all of his emotion seep into the instrument through his fingers. He let the last note linger, hanging in the air like a quiet voice. Looking back to her, she too was crying, but not of sadness.
"My mother would hum that melody as she put me to bed. Said that I would hear it again when the right time came, but I never knew what she meant. You live all alone here?"
"I do now. My mother passed away a few days ago, and that song is all I have left to remember my parents by. She said that's how love would find me, would be through that song."
"My name's Sara, it's nice to meet you..."
"Collin...They call me Collin."
"Collin..."
She smiled again, tasting the name as it rolled on her tongue. As he continued to watch her, it still seemed like she carried the light around her from the dying sun. Her eyes gazed lovingly at the instrument as he played the song again, soothing his mind, if not his heart.
Sara left shortly as the last rays faded into dusk, and Collin watched her walk down the gravel walk until she was no more than another shadow moving along with the moonlight.
No dreams came to him that night, none that he could remember, none to plague his mind for the day.
The late autumn heat was enough to drive him out onto his porch for his solace, seeking it again in the music. Never before had he turned to it as devoutly as he did then, believing it more as a peace keeper between his heart and mind than even the great Lord above between good and evil. The last solid thing he could believe and have faith in spoke only when he needed it to, and it came from his own powers what the message held for him.
Again, just before the sun began to loose it's battle with the moon, Sara was at his front step, joining him to just simply listen to what the violin had to say, though the song was always the same. It was the only one he could bring himself to play when she was there beside him.
"The music flows even thicker than my blood now, so rich and vibrant. How could such a simple thing hold so many meanings?"
"What do you mean Collin?"
"It's a song of life, of love on so many levels. But then in the same right it speaks of death just as softly. The first is so drawn, so mellow...Could be a sunrise on an early spring day, or a light snowfall on the coldest of winter nights. So many things to say, but only you and I to hear and understand it."
"What if it is not meant to be understood?"
"Why would someone write a song with no clear meaning to understand?"
"Is love a clear meaning to understand? Just as you said, there are so many levels. But this song, I think it sings of the highest power that can be had and held by two people."
"What kind is that, Sara?"
She turned from him, searching the sky for a moment before standing to take her leave.
"That is for you to find and decide."
Soon, every day would bring the same, listless days spent wasting away until the night threatened to take over, when Sara would be there again to talk in light tones about nothing in particular. The highlight of every evening would be Collin playing the song, as many times as he felt before she would fade away with the darkness again. It was almost ritual to him, this routine that repeated endlessly long into the bitter winter months, and just as he described the first few notes, the meaning began to change in his own heart.
He never asked where she came from, but it wasn't lost to him that she would just suddenly appear most of the time, not even a rustle of gravel on the walkway. It was almost like she only existed for those moments, on the porch, in the living room. He would offer food and drink, what little he ever had, but she would never accept, letting him eat his evening meals while she held and caressed the instrument.
Collin would watch her intently during those times, memorized every movement she made while caring for the violin. If she ever noticed him, she never said, never tried to hide what she was doing. To him, it almost seemed like she was caring for a newborn child, the way she cradled it, gently wiping it with soft cloths.
Sara would always leave depending on the light, never really based on time. Just as the night would begin it's crawl of darkness, she would hug him tightly, kiss him lightly on the cheek, and tell him things were getting better for him. Then, she would fade off into the dark leaving him alone with his thoughts and his song again. He never asked where she went either, for it didn't matter to him as long as he had a companion to share at least a small amount of time with.
A week before Christmas, Collin saw another vision in one of his dreams. His mother and father were together once more, sitting close on a blanket of mist. He held her hand as she began to cry, finally falling into his arms. His father unfolded his wings, wrapping them around them both in a tight embrace. But the image that burned into Collin's mind was that of his father looking sorrowfully at him, his teal eyes shimmering.
For hours he lay on his bed, alternating between crying and wondering what had made his parents, even as dream reminders, so saddened by him. It was obvious to him that he had done something, or hadn't done, or he would have seen them joyful at being reunited.
He was still there in his room when Sara arrived, but he didn't mind her coming in on her own. She knelt by the side of the bed, stroking his face gently while whispering soothing sounds to calm him.
"Shouldn't you be at home with family? It's almost Christmas..."
"No."
Her tone was soft, running her fingers through his dark hair as he sniffled, digging further into the bedding. As he was drifting off, he mumbled quietly under his breath.
"I love you, Sara."
He fell asleep soon after, listening to her hum the familiar tune. Once she was sure he was sound, she walked to the window, watching the snow gently drift down and settle. Looking to the sky she sighed, a dim light growing around her. As she turned back to the bed, her wings became visible, the feathers ruffling lightly. She brushed her fingers down his jaw-line, her thumb sliding across his bottom lip.
Sara smiled, kissing his lips before leaving him again. Her feet left no prints in the snow as she faded away.
"I love you too Collin..."
His mood was still somber the next morning, though he talked himself out of bed long enough to find something to feed his forgotten stomach. Walking back into his room, he stopped by the window for a moment, picking up a solitary feather from the sill. He brushed it against his cheek, placing it reverently on his dresser.
Collin was again on his way to slumber when Sara came to see him. For the first time, she began to play the violin, sitting on the edge of his bed. When she completed the song, she smiled down at him, meeting his gaze.
"What is it Collin?"
He pushed himself up on his elbows, clearing his unused throat.
"I said it so quietly last night, I guess I was almost hoping you wouldn't hear..."
"Wouldn't hear what?"
"That I love you."
Sara set the violin down again, sighing.
"I love you too, but in a way you'll never understand."
"Why not?"
"Because you don't truly know me..."
"How can I when you only stay for a few fleeting moments every night? Why must you always go?"
"It wouldn't be fair to the others if I stayed."
"Others? What others?"
"You just wouldn't understand."
She stood quickly, moving away from him.
"I'm sorry Collin...I can't do this...I just can't..."
Sara ran out of the house, suppressing a sob until she was sure he couldn't see and wouldn't hear. He stopped at the door, searching the dark.
"What won't I understand? Why can't you tell me...?"
He collapsed in the doorway, tears streaming down his face. It had been Christmas Eve.
No tree, no lights, no presents, and no happy faces graced the almost empty house. He sat alone with the violin in his lap, watching the snow fall into the waves beyond. He wondered absently how the Christmas sermon was going, how everyone else was celebrating with family and friends around them.
His mind drifted to Sara, sweet Sara and her emerald eyes. He smiled at her kinder times, those when they would just sit and talk before she would leave again. He did wonder who the 'others' were, why she wouldn't stay though she said she loved him. For once, he truly did not understand what was happening to him, why he felt he was so far astray.
Sara stood on the porch that night, knocking gently at the door. She could only manage a small smile when Collin opened it, pulling her into an embrace. He let go, taking a step back to allow her inside, but she didn't move.
"I can't stay tonight, but no one deserves a Christmas without at least one gift..."
She handed him a package, brightly wrapped. He glanced at it for a moment, setting it on the table beside the door.
"You would be gift enough to me..."
"Collin, please...I can't do it, and it wouldn't be fair of me. Please, I can't go on like this..."
She turned away from him, starting to run from him again. She stopped again where she usually did, but was startled to see Collin only a few steps behind, trying to catch up.
"Sara, please, talk to me...What wouldn't I understand? Why do you do this when you say you love me?"
She stopped, glancing quickly at the setting sun.
"There are many levels of love, just as you once said. And yes, I love you in possibly the highest form there is."
"Then why won't you stay?"
"Because it is not the love of lovers I feel for you..."
His lips parted slightly, water filling his eyes as she turned towards the last sliver of light.
"I knew you wouldn't understand, and I had wished that it wouldn't come to this moment. I am not what I seem, and that is the reason I can not stay."
"But..."
She pressed her fingers to his lips to silence him as the last light faded, drawing in around her as she began to glow. He watched as the light took shape, forming and becoming her solid wings. She spread them wide, letting him see.
"They wanted you to be loved, and I do love you. The kind I feel for you is unconditional, just as your parents had for you when they were still here. It was they who sent me, because they knew you wouldn't go on without someone to show you that there was still something worth living for."
"You...you're an angel?"
She nodded slowly, folding her wings down.
"You have so much life left in you, you just had to learn...Unconditional is the strongest love that there can ever be, and I'll never forget you..."
"I won't see you again, will I?"
"Someday...You will see me again, but you have more to do before then. Your mother and father are smiling now, watching you. They want you to know that you will never be alone."
Collin sighed, hugging her again before stepping away.
"Tell them I still love them..."
"I will...And remember how happy we were, remember how you felt...Make it that way every day Collin...We angel's need something to smile about too."
He smiled, nodding. She kissed him softly before turning towards the darkness again. As he stood and watched, she walked away for the very last time.
***
Epilogue
It was true that he would never see her again in his life, and as he looked back on it, maybe that was for the best.
On late summer nights he would still sit alone on the beach, playing either his violin or the clarinet that she had given him as her last gift. He had finally found the peace he needed to play more of a selection, but their song, his parent's song, always brought him back to the year when he fell in love with an angel.
Yes, there is something about a song, about a melody, that wisps you away from reality and back to better times. And maybe, just maybe, those memories are there to teach us again what we forget in life.
"To the never ending dream that will always live on in song..."
Dedicated to Daniel Jones
