They brought out a pretty linguist from Switzerland and she questioned me in Italian. I answered her, and we went back and forth in a light conversation. She switched to French with no warning, and I answered her in kind before I realized what she had done.
The host’s look of skepticism melted slightly when that happened. Having already been found out, I went ahead into the slightly guttural language of Deutschland. She nodded, and answered in German. The exhibition went on for a couple of minutes, us switching back and forth, until the woman smiled. She said I was quite fluent in all three tongues, shook my hand, and left the set.
I didn’t mention anything about time travel, alternate realities, or Melody’s sickness.
The interviewer kept pressing me to explain how I had gotten to the church.
I told him that I had no idea as to how that happened.
He stated how many people had been convinced that it was all a hoax… and how many believed that, somehow, my brother was involved. I adamantly denied those accusations. A doctor from the rehabilitation center was then interviewed by way of a television feed; he backed me up and verified that I had indeed been comatose for four years. He also said that I had been receiving a blood transfusion at the time of my disappearance from the facility. The host knew about my change in blood type, and was also very curious about that. He asked me to explain what I thought had happened to cause such a thing.
Once, again, I pleaded ignorance… so did the doctor.
__________
To close the show, they brought out a baby grand piano. I had agreed to play for them in our contract. I made my way over to the instrument, and was impressed with the quality there before me. I sat down and hit middle C to test the sound, which was rich and smooth… then, I went into ‘Chopsticks’, simple and childlike.
I looked up, smiling, and the crew realized I was having a little joke on them; they all busted up laughing.
After they had quieted down, I expanded into a full blown classical piece, all developed around the same tune of ‘Chopsticks’; it lasted for about 30 seconds. When I finished, everyone in the studio was clapping, whistling and cheering. Finally, their noise receded, and I adjusted the microphone and said that I would like to do a song for Melody. The lights in the studio softly dimmed.
I held my hands for a moment above the keys, and then brought them slowly down in order to make the music flow into a gentle introduction. After a few measures, I leaned into the microphone:
Every time I look at you I melt.
Every time I hold your hand,
It’s like I’ve never felt
Your skin… before,
And, every time you walk through that door…
I melt,
I dissolve,
I simply fade away,
Then, I just revolve,
around you…
That’s what I do…
I simply melt… I melt for you.
Every time I think of you, I melt.
Every time I hold you close,
It’s like I’ve finally been dealt,
Into the game. And, every time
I hear your voice, and, when I say your name…
I melt,
I dissolve,
I simply fade away,
Then, I just revolve,
around you…
That’s what I do…
I simply melt… I melt…
I simply melt for you.
I always have… I always will,
It’s just the way I feel,
For you.
I always have… I always will,
You’re the only thing that’s real
To me, and,
Every time I dream of you, I melt.
Every time I close my eyes,
I see a knight that’s knelt,
Before his queen, before his one true love
Before his everything…
I melt,
I dissolve,
I simply fade away,
Then, I just revolve,
around you…
That’s what I do…
I simply melt… I melt…
I simply melt for you.
I had no way of knowing the song would go to number one and stay there for four weeks.
Chapter 79
Thanks to the music sales, I had enough money to totally reimburse Jeremy for the hospital bills and rent. Melody and I also had enough left over to put down on the house we had been renting. I kept the boat, and on weekends, we would take it out into the bay. Sometimes, I would find the cabin door open when I had closed and locked it, and I knew that it was Giddeon telling me that he was still around. Most likely he was living there when he wasn’t over at The Del. I wondered if his wings had been clipped, or if he was still flying around the universe sampling various futures and pasts.
At the end of one year, Melody had no signs of cancer. We still continue to have her tested at regular intervals, just to be safe, but I think we can quit worrying about that particular problem.
__________
The second summer of my new existence, I decided to surprise Melody with a bit of a show. I had pretty much physically returned to normal parameters, and was feeling better than I had in my entire conscious life. So, I coordinated an unadvertised set at The Casbah… that’s a little club that I used to frequent in my college days. It’s a good place for live music, and has been known to have bands like ‘Fountains of Wayne’ and ‘Social Distortion’.
Jeremy and Janice were with us. We paid our money (so that Melody wouldn’t suspect what was up) and went inside. We listened to a succession of three bands; each one played about 45 minutes. At around 11:30 P.M., the stage was cleared and the club manager announced my name and explained who I was. The employees made sure that Melody had a spot at the front of the little crowd. I could see people looking over in her direction, recognizing her famous face.
I had a little help setting up my guitar and keyboard… they had been delivered there, without Melody knowing, that afternoon. I thought to myself how easily things like that were accomplished with Giddeon in charge… however, the extra hassle actually felt kind of nice.
After we had everything in place, I checked the sound, and then sang three songs behind my guitar. They were from mine and Giddeon’s collaborations on the other side, and the music seemed to delight both Melody and the audience. I could see several cell phones being held in extended hands; their soft glows recorded the performances from beyond the stage lights. Enthusiastic applause followed each of the tunes.
For the final song, I positioned myself behind a Yamaha keyboard that I had treated myself to a few months before. Jeremy came up, took my Ovation guitar and sat down on a stool to accompany me. I checked the levels, again, looked at Melody and smiled. “I wrote this song a couple of years ago,” I said. “I wasn’t sure I’d ever get the chance to sing it to the person I loved. Back then, all we had were dreams, and now, every day is a dream.” She blew me a kiss.
I
Feel
Time
Really isn’t all that real.
And, you
Should know
That we’ll
Simply go,
On and on, on and on, on and on…
That’s the deal… that’s the deal,
That’s just the way it is,
Some things are really real,
Like you,
And me,
Always and forever.
We were meant to be, meant to be…
Together…
For life.
Would you consider this…
Would you be my wife?
Would you be my wife?
My love,
My everything
I’m dreaming of?
I’m dreaming of you…
Dreaming of me.
Wherever you may go…
That’s where I want to be.
Would you be my wife?
Woul
d you be my wife?
Would you be my wife?
When I had finished, Melody climbed straight up onto the stage, not bothering with the steps that were over to one side. I stood up and she threw her arms around me. We kissed, long and passionately, and I was carried away into my own private heaven. I could smell lemons and mango. I remembered a similar kiss, high above the world, with stars twinkling all around.
We went to the top of YouTube, again.
Chapter 80
Although my subconscious had suggested it many times, Melody was the one that finally convinced me to do it.
Write all of this down, that is.
I’ve left quite a bit out, because so much happened on the other side that I feel like it would fill a volume of encyclopedias. However, even though I’m not that good with grammar and punctuation, I think I’ve captured the essence of it.
At first, I was reluctant to consider disclosing my adventures from over there, because it was all so unreal that sometimes I don’t even believe it myself. Melody said that it simply had to be done, because it’s such a beautiful story. She believes that the money it can potentially bring in can be used to fund a number of good causes… that it can help to alleviate so much suffering.
It was her idea to link the songs with the book, so that people can hear as well as see the words on their computers and e-readers. She’s so smart and compassionate that I’ll just let her decide where the money goes… assuming it does come in the way she says it will. The only request I’ve made of her is to make sure that some of it goes to a charity of her ex-fiancée’s choice… so that he can have some say in saving the world he cares about so deeply. I’m not really concerned with the finances. I feel like I’ve won The Lotto now that I have her by my side.
I’m sure she’ll do a good job… and people will remember her for generations to come.
__________
Finally, you might find it strange that for that first year out of my coma, Melody and I had separate bedrooms. We both wanted it that way. After we were married (by Father McCreely), I can assure you, that that wasn’t the case. We have a bouncing baby boy to prove it. He looks like a little angel, with a thick head of honey-blonde hair. He’s learning to walk, and the cats seem terribly fascinated with him.
We had no trouble at all deciding on a name…
Giddeon.
THE END
EPILOGUE
Melody and I sometimes still share dreams. It happened again just the other day.
It was the middle of the morning, and her mother and sister were in town for the weekend to see the baby. Exhausted from our parenting duties, Melody and I took a little nap. I ‘awoke’ to her taking me by the arm. She guided me out of the front door of the house, and we walked hand in hand towards the golf course, the morning air cool and crisp on our skin. When we got close, she held a finger up to her lips and squeezed my palm tightly, signaling for me to be quiet. We dissolved until we were invisible, but I could still feel her by my side. We continued on, stepping carefully so as to not make any noise.
Giddeon was on the first tee. It was so good to see him, again. He hadn’t changed a bit. We stood near to him and I took in his presence like a long drink of refreshing liquid. Melody squeezed my palm, again, as if to let me know that she was glad to finally see him after all that she had heard. He teed up his ball and took a couple of practice swings. Then, he hit one right down the middle, maybe 350 yards.
Giddeon had bent down to pick up his tee, when something totally unexpected happened.
“Mind if I play along?”
A beautiful brunette with curly cascading locks walked up to the tee with a bag over her shoulder. She had on white golf shorts, a white, collared shirt and new, white shoes. Around her neck was a simple gold necklace, and on her right wrist was a matching bracelet. She was the spitting image of the Italian girl from the market place.
It was a rare thing to see him shocked, and I quite enjoyed it. He stood up and quickly recovered. “Not at all. I’m Giddeon.”
She held out her hand, and he took it in his. Giddeon held onto it much longer than is customary for a handshake, and looked down as if he couldn’t believe that there was actual contact. She crinkled her eyes and nose in a cute little smile, as if she couldn’t believe it, either.
“I’m Mia,” she said.
I thought back to Gid’s ‘Mama Mia’ remark 2000 plus years ago. Finally, they let go of each other.
“Have you ever played here, before?” Giddeon asked.
“I’ve never even played golf before, so, you’ll have to be patient with me,” she replied.
“No problem… I’m a good teacher.”
She set down her bag and teed up a ball from the blue tees… at the time, I figured she just didn’t know any better. After going through some adjustments, Mia finally found the stance she wanted, and then, took a decidedly amateurish swing.
The little dimpled sphere flew down the left side with a strong power fade, which brought it back to the middle.
It finally landed in the Bermuda grass and bounded forward. We watched as it scooted along the manicured fairway and lost its speed… at the end of its journey, it looked like it actually rolled over Giddeon’s ball and popped up into the air about a foot, or, so, after it did. I realized, then, that we were seeing Melody’s subconscious.
I suppose soul mates are connected all the way down : )
Giddeon burst out laughing and threw his club in the air. It glistened in the Coronado sun and disappeared. He picked up her bag and put it over his shoulder.
“Not bad! Not bad at all!”
They walked down the fairway, holding hands.
*****
Boris, hard at work.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
G.B. Brulte lives in Southern California and plays golf on Coronado every chance he gets.
He has recently completed Book 2 in The Silver Strand Series, entitled ‘Giddeon’
Coronado Dreaming (The Silver Strand Series) Page 29