War In Heaven

by Jasmine Bowen

  Gabriel flicked his hand, indicating they should continue.

  “The reality is, your voice is getting rougher, there’s no denying it. And I know the struggle you must be going through right now, it must be the roughest moment of your life. But God-willing, you will get through it. What I’m proposing is to add a singer.”

  Everyone gasped at this, staring at him as if he had grown a third head.

  “Who?” Ramiel asked, curious. Jinn shrugged.

  “Someone. We are off tour for the whole summer, we have time to find someone who follows our work. A backup singer, Gabriel, who would only step in if he needed to, on stage. Otherwise, we continue with you on nights that you’re fine.”

  “And who in their right mind would accept that offer?” Gabriel asked, shaking his head. “And what is wrong with your voices?”

  “Ramiel and I aren’t singers. We can sing, but not if it’s taking away from our primary focus of the music,” Jinn said, calmly. “We can find someone, if it’s meant to be.”

  Gabriel buried his face in his hands, shaking his head.

  “I can’t believe this.”

  “Well, there’s no point in pretending it’s not happening,” Ramiel replied, callously. “So you cannot believe it, or you can be part of this band and support it, rather than acting like a one-man show.”

  “And you can stop with your attitude,” Jinn told both of them. “Because I’m about sick of being on tour with two children.”

  A silence filled the room, as everyone’s brains felt like they were about to explode. It was such a harsh and sudden choice, and nobody wished for it to happen this way. Finally, Isda spoke, her high voice sounding painful.

  “Gabriel, please. For the Love of God. I need you to be ok.”

  And he looked up at his wife, his small and young wife, who had endured so much already. She had given up so much of her life and her dreams so that he could have this, and he knew it. And how heart breaking it must be, for Isda, to sit at home and watch them perform, while she sang only to the walls. But even she knew the importance of their mission, of their message, and if she was willing to step aside so that they could sing the Lord’s praise to a mass audience, than why couldn’t he swallow his pride to get him through this?

  “Can we pray about this?” he asked, for the first time in months. He moved from the pew to sit on the stage with them, and the four of them joined hands, something that hadn’t happened for far too long. Jinn bowed his head, eyes closed.

  “Dear Lord, we ask you for guidance in this difficult choice, to look after the health of your servant, Gabriel, and to continue to allow us to spread your message. We don’t know where to go, Lord, but we do know that whatever choice Gabriel makes, we will support. Guide and teach us, and love us as your servants, Lord Jesus.”

  Another silence fell over the room, and then finally, Gabriel took a deep breath, and looked up. A few tears had slipped down his face, but he knew in his heart what the right answer was.

  “I guess we’re holding auditions,” he said, quietly. Isda breathed a sigh of relief, looking upon him with grateful eyes. Jinn nodded.

  “Thank you.”

  “It’s God’s will, isn’t it?” Gabriel asked, his emotions overflowing about this disease for the first time. “I don’t have to like it, and I don’t have to understand it, but it is God’s will, and so I’m going to obey it.”

  “Amen,” Ramiel said, and they all breathed a sigh.

  Chapter Five

  “The Christian mainstream sensation, War in Heaven, is holding auditions today for a backup singer. Lead singer Gabriel St. Clair released a statement to the press earlier this week, stating that he wanted more time to focus on song writing and instrumental, and is therefore looking for a support singer. The audition call was open to all ages and races, as well as both genders. Questions remain swirling as to why the change of focus. The auditions will be held in the west end of Chicago, and the lucky winner is expected to tour with War in Heaven this winter.”

  Gabriel snapped off the TV, not wanting to hear the entertainment news. They had played it well, and no one suspected that the real problem was his lack of air. He could still belt out tunes on command, but he knew it was getting worse. However, it didn’t change the foul mood he was in as he took his place with Jinn and Ramiel behind the table. They had done a huge audition call, and a casting agency had narrowed it down to forty potentials that they needed to see.

  They had opted not to receive demo CDs or photographs, looking for the power of the live voice. Isda was curled up in the corner, working on her third year take-home exam. Her internship at a local law office meant that she hadn’t been present through much of the audition process, but she had moved heaven and earth to be here today.

  “I think, before we do anything today, we should pray,” Jinn said, taking a sip of his coffee. It was early and he had been up since 3 am with a sick toddler. He was grateful to be home for these moments with his children, but it didn’t change the fact that he was exhausted.

  “Of course we should pray,” Ramiel replied, his attitude sharp even at 8 am. “We should pray that the label isn’t going to kill us over this choice, we should pray that everyone who walks through that door isn’t shit, and we should pray that we don’t choose a good audition and a terrible performance. Or a groupie.”

  “I think all of those things are valid,” Jinn replied, with a shrug. “Although maybe put a little more elegantly than that. Dear God…”

  “I feel fine today,” Gabriel said, when they had finished. “So that will be their final test. If they can’t match the notes I randomly belt out, than perhaps they should be washing dishes.”

  “Darling, we’re not looking to replace you,” Isda called standing up. She had agreed to be the runner, getting the auditioned. “Just someone to support you. It’d be better if they sounded different than you.”

  “And when we need this person to completely replace me?” Gabriel asked, bitterly.

  “It’s not going to happen,” Jinn answered, nodding at Isda. “Go ahead, you can get the first one.”

  Isda took a deep breath, and blew a kiss at Gabriel. Then, her low heels clinked across the floor as she went to open the door, and beckon whoever was wearing number one to the room.

  “Hi, I’m Jon,” number one said, bouncing in. Tall, with an odd sort of scraggly beauty about him, Jon’s hair fell in his eyes, and down to the nape of his neck, which was followed by broad shoulders and a lanky frame. Ramiel, the boldest of them, clicked Jon’s application open on their laptop.

  “So you’re a…travelling singer?”

  “Aye. Lounges, cabarets, the sort. I spend a lot of time on the road, so I’m already used to the life.”

  “Except this is on a crowded tour bus,” Gabriel said. “What’s your vocal range?”

  “6 octaves,” Jon said, without shame.

  “And you’re…Pentecostal Christian?” Jinn said, reading the application. They had left that section optional, their record company had deemed it illegal to make it mandatory to ask. However, the people who had made it through to them had all declared their denomination.

  “That’s right, born and raised. My church’s youth group has been playing your music almost every week. You guys are like heroes.”

  “Well, let’s hear what you’ve got,” Jinn said, glancing at Gabriel. Jon nodded, and moved his feet apart, squaring his shoulders, and tilted his chin up, and then launched into a cover of Jerusalem.

  His voice was good, but Jinn knew immediately it wasn’t what they wanted. It was even, safe, and careful, the notes only spanning 4 octaves. Whether he was lying about his range or chose to play it safe didn’t matter to Jinn. This wasn’t a singer who could jump in and scream at the end of a song if Gabriel’s breath failed. This wasn’t a singer they could rely on to pick up any note and continue the song without skipping a beat. He sounded like he belonged on Broadway, with melodic pop tunes and long lasting big finales. And whe
n he finished, they nodded politely and said they would be in touch, but everyone knew it wasn’t to be.

  “Great start,” Ramiel said, sarcastically, as Isda closed the door.

  “It's not like having him would be the worst thing in the world,” she replied, trying to show a bit of kindness.

  “No,” Gabriel replied. “Just the most boring.”

  “You ok?” she glanced at him.

  “No, I’m obviously not,” he snapped, although it wasn’t as harsh as in the past. “But I’m here, aren’t I, so let’s see number 2.”

  “God bless you, Isda,” Jinn said. “I wouldn’t have the patience to do what you do.”

  He gave Gabriel a pointed look, but the boy rolled his eyes, leaning over to look at the application for number 2.

  Number 2 was a fiery brunette called Eva, who had the Metropolitan Opera on her resume. Petite, barely 5’1”, the music that came out of her tiny frame was astounding. However, Gabriel stopped her only three verses in.

  “Eva, you’re amazing, I can give you that. But you’re not the sound we are looking for. I look forward to seeing you more on stage at the Met.”

  “Fair enough,” she seemed to take it well enough, and they were on to number 3 without even a minute’s pause.

  It was Ramiel that stopped number 3 less than thirty seconds in, but not because he was blown away by the man’s music.

  “Stop. Stop, you suck. What’s wrong with you?”

  “Ramiel!” Isda cried, horrified. Ramiel cocked an eyebrow.

  “Seriously. You suck. How did you even get through?”

  “Can we try to be politer?” Jinn asked, once number 3 had slinked off. Ramiel shrugged.

  “The music industry is tough. I won’t be the first person to tell him that.”

  Gabriel had to let out a little giggle.

  “He did suck.”

  “You two are children,” Jinn rolled his eyes and asked Isda to call in the next one.

  They made it up to number 10 without much comment, a few good but not great singers. Number 11 came in, wearing all black and a nun’s habit. Ramiel raised an eyebrow.

  “What’s your name, Sister?”

  “Mary,” the girl replied, who couldn’t be more than 16. “And I’m just a novice.”

  “So you realize that going on tour with us won’t be only in monasteries.”

  “I know,” Mary replied, with a small shrug, “But maybe this is God’s calling for me.”

  “All right,” Gabriel was intrigued by this girl, who was just as tall as him, and had 50 lbs on him. He wasn’t about to judge by looks, he heard incredible voices come out of the most unlikely bodies. But the fact that this girl was studying to be a nun made him a little nervous. “Go ahead. What will you be singing?”

  “Britney Spears,” she said and Jinn choked.

  “Oh…um, go ahead them,” he said.

  What was remarkable about this girl was not her voice, which was a perfect imitation of the pop star. It was that before the first voice was almost over, she had launched into the dance routine and began unbuttoning her clothes. She had her shirt undone before Isda managed to stumble over the shocked boys and stop her.

  “What are you doing?” Isda asked, in disbelief. Mary regarded her with annoyance.

  “Performance. It’s a rock band, isn’t it?”

  “You’re a nun!” Isda protested, and Mary shrugged.

  “I’m just a novice.”

  “Thank you, Mary, we’ll be in touch,” Jinn replied, avoiding her eyes. “Please take the time to do up your clothes before you go out there.”

  “Did you like it?” she asked hopefully. Gabriel cut in, trying not to laugh.

  “Good luck with your studies,” he said, putting his hand over his mouth to stop the laughter. Only once the door was closed did Isda turn back to them, wide-eyed.

  “Oh my. Perhaps if we were looking to depict the Whore of Babylon.”

  “Isda,” Gabriel managed, through giggles. “You are the Whore of Babylon and you always will be, nothing will change that.”

  She glared at him, as even Jinn laughed.

  “Shall I get number 12?”

  “Please do,” Ramiel said. “Unless there are any other potential nuns out there, I’m interested.”

  “Lord help us,” Jinn buried his face in his hands. “Please. We need all the help we can get.”

  By the late afternoon, and at number 33, they had 5 potentials set aside, who impressed them. 3 men and 2 women who had walked in with confidence, with impressive resumes, given them a nearly flawless performance, and then matched Gabriel note for note as he took them up and down the octave range of their most difficult songs. But as the clock turned five pm, Jinn was worried that no one would be what they wanted, or worse, they would be deadlocked in a choice for months. The five potentials each had something different to bring to the table, and each had their own pros and cons.

  “Bring in 34,” he said to Isda, who looked just as tired as them. She held open the door and beckoned in 34, a middle-aged woman who looked like she went to their church, or any church in the country. She kind of fit the bill, with a knee length skirt, and a tank top, that went high, and all in black. The conservative house wife mixed with rocker.

  “Hi, your name is…” Jinn started, but he didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence.

  “I LOVE YOU!” the woman cried, launching at him and starting to cry, simply from being in his presence. She almost threw herself across the table. “I love you! I’m a big fan of all your songs, and you’re the glue that holds this band together! I would give you more than 2 children, Jinn, I would be the perfect wife! I would give you anything that you wanted! Please please, consider me.”

  “Uh…” Ramiel stood up, one hand on the laptop to protect it from falling off the table and the other reaching out as a barrier. “What the…”

  “Get out of my way, skinny boy!” she nearly threw Ramiel, grappling for Jinn.

  “SECURITY!” Isda screamed through the open door. It took 2 burly guards to wrestle the woman out of the room, dragging her screaming and crying from the floor. The four of them stared at each other in shock. “Jinn, you have a fan,” Isda said. Jinn still looked shaken, glancing down at the laptop.

  “It says number 34 is a 45 year old man? Who the hell was that?”

  “I’ll um…find out…” Isda said, shaking her head in disbelief and following the security guards out of the room. Jinn sat down, as the boys tried not to smirk.

  “Forget us, Lord help that woman to heal,” he said, in shock. Ramiel snorted. “It’s not funny.”

  “It’s a little bit funny,” Ramiel replied, trying not to burst into full out laughter. Gabriel was already well ahead of him.

  “Your face! You should have seen your face! It was like you were at gun point. Your eyes!”

  “And I’m glad I can count on you guys if I’m ever in a spot of trouble,” Jinn replied, shaking his head. “That poor woman. What are you doing?” He looked at Ramiel, who was dialing a phone number.

  “Calling your wife. This is too funny not to shared.”

  “Give me!” Jinn grabbed the cell phone, pocketing it. “I’ll tell her myself. Tonight. Alone. When it doesn’t sound like I enjoy misguided groupies.”

  “You look like you enjoyed it a little bit,” Isda replied, coming back into the room. “She was actually somebody’s mom, who is now mortally embarrassed and doesn’t even want to audition for us.”

  “Understandable,” Ramiel replied. “Can’t we just quit now? We’ve got 5 good ones to go off of, one of them has to pan out. I’m tired. And hungry.”

  “And bored,” Gabriel put in. “None of these potentials can hit my octave range, so what am I supposed to do? Just lower my standards on stage?”

  “Guys, we have 7 left,” Isda tried to say it with encouragement. “It can’t be that much longer.”

  “I have a question for you guys,” Jinn leaned across the table, collecting h
imself. “Do you think you’ve seen enough with these audition, the good ones, or do you think we need a call back? Because what we could do is see the rest tomorrow, and then arrange a call back? We have the room for 2 days anyways, in case we want to quit.”

  “But everybody is already gathered!” Isda protested, and Jinn shrugged.

  “But that’s part of the industry, being ready to go on a moment’s notice.”

  There was some hemming and hawing over it, but eventually, they decided to order a pizza and plow through the rest of the auditions. Only when they were sharing a slice did Isda speak quietly to Gabriel.

  “I know this is hard, love, but you’re almost done.”

  “Of course it’s hard,” he replied. Once upon a time, he would have responded with a softer tone, but now, it felt like they were two strangers, or people who once shared love end now only had memories. “But what kills me the most is I feel like I’ve failed.”

  “What?” she looked at him in shock. “Gabriel, you didn’t fail anyone. Don’t be silly.”

  “Well, I kind of did. With my body,” he said, nibbling on a piece of pepperoni. “I was called to do something for the Lord and it appears my body does not have the strength to do so.”

  Isda wracked her brain for the proper thing to say, but she realized she didn’t have to, for the words came to her as if put in her brain. And she knew they had been, by the Lord himself.

  “Therefore, I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distress, for Christ’s sake, for when I am weak, I am strong. 2nd Corinthians 12:10.”

  Gabriel opened his mouth, about to say something, but then shook his head, turning his back to her.

  “Boys? Let’s finish this up.”

  Isda sighed, watching Gabriel saunter back to the table. She had thought, over the past few days, that things might be healing, that he really might be coming to terms with what was happening. Of course it was hard, and she didn’t expect him to instantly get over it. But it appeared all her prayers for healing had gone unanswered.

  “I’ll get the next one,” she said, and they made noises of acknowledgement.