Colors (9 page)

“Well, there’s
Godspell
and
Jesus Christ, Superstar
. And there are other shows that have inspirational songs in them.”

“It does sound like a good idea. Not a whole program of Broadway songs, but we could include some. What do you suggest?”

“Let’s see. You could open with ‘Prepare Ye’ from
Godspell
, then segue into ‘Day by Day.’ And Melissa could solo on ‘I Don’t Know How to Love Him.’ There is a fantastic song in
Spring Awakening
called ‘I Believe.’” Zane begins to sing a soft rock melody with the words “I believe” over and over. “And then, of course, there is always ‘Climb Every Mountain’ from
Sound of Music
.”

“I like the
Godspell
idea, and the
Superstar
number fits Melissa. And that ‘I Believe’ song sounds tailor-made for us. But instead of ‘Mountain,’ what about ‘You’ll Never Walk Alone’ from
Carousel
? I like that number better, and it brings back good memories. And it would be a dynamite finale to our show.”

“You’re right. Socko, boffo. Okay, that’s four numbers. What else can you do?”

“When Melissa and I were rehearsing last week, we warmed up with a few hymns. Our harmony was perfect. Melissa loves doing hymns. It’s in her blood, I guess. I would be willing to bet she will want to do a hymn medley. And there’s Miriam Railston. Melissa loves Miriam Railston,” I say, my enthusiasm growing. “I’m sure she’ll want to do one or two of her songs.”

“Miriam Railston?”

“Contemporary Christian music. She wrote the song we did last Sunday. Great stuff.”

“Wow. Great material. If that’s any indication,” Zane said, “then you’re right. Fantastic song. Now, you need a solo too.”

“I hadn’t thought about that. It’s Melissa’s church. She deserves a solo.”

“And you don’t?” Zane scowls. “Wipe that idea right out of your mind, guy. You need something shiny—something classic. I heard this old guy on TV once do a song called ‘How Great Thou Art.’ It had power and would show off your voice. You’d stop the show with it.”

Great idea. I smile, remembering I’d heard that song too, and thinking about what I could do with it.

“Okay.” I’m totally sold now. “With the Broadway numbers, the hymns, ‘How Great,’ and a couple of Railstons, we should have a whole program. We can always do an encore of the first Railston song.”

“Encore?” Zane laughs. “I like your way of thinking, Mr. Broadway.”

“S
O
, I
was thinking—we ought to do a whole medley of Miriam’s songs.” Melissa’s excitement is almost heating up the phone receiver.

“I agree,” I say. “I was telling Zane the same thing after you left today at lunch.”

“And what did Her Highness say?” Melissa’s tone of disapproval comes through the phone lines loud and clear. “I’d bet he’s never even heard of Miriam Railston.”

“Well, he didn’t know who she was. I reminded him she wrote the song we sang last Sunday. Then he was all for the medley.”

“I’m so, so glad he approves.”

“Melissa”—
be gentle, Neil
—“you’ve
got
to stop doing that.”

“Doing what?” Her words are innocent, but her tone telegraphs she knows exactly what I’m talking about.

“You
know
what: being so negative about Zane.”

“Okay, okay… I’ll try not to offend her, uh,
him
anymore.”

I try ignoring her, putting the problem out of sight, out of mind. “We should do some Broadway numbers, also,” I say.

“Oh, another one of Zane’s ideas?” Her sarcasm is loud and clear, but she apparently checks herself because her next words are kinder. “I would expect that from him, but I don’t know if I’m comfortable doing that kind of music.”

“Melissa, Zane knows theater. And there is a lot of good inspirational music in the theater. He can be a big help to us.”

“Zane, Zane… have you completely fallen under his spell?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know… people like him. They know how to worm their way into things and turn people.”

“Melissa? Are you crazy or what? I told you Zane is a professional. He can help.”

“Yeah. Like he’s already helped. He’s taken over, now, hasn’t he?” There’s anger there. Pisses me off.

“Calm down, Melissa.” Steam is building in me. I almost hiss at her.

“Neil, he planned our whole program. And I wasn’t even there. Yes, I call that worming his way in. And I don’t like it one bit.”

A breath. I don’t like her this way, yet I don’t want to jeopardize the concert, either.
Kid gloves, Neil.

“Melissa, I’m open to suggestions. What do you want to do?”

“First of all—I don’t want to do that song, the one he suggested.”

“You mean ‘I Don’t Know How to Love Him’? Okay, no problem. It’s out.”

“You mean it? Won’t your friend be mad?”

“I doubt it. But it doesn’t matter.” I put a smile in my voice, using all the acting training I’ve ever had. I’m with Melissa. She’s my girlfriend. But I don’t like her attitude about Zane. I’ve got to change her mind about him—eventually—but right now, I want her to be happy. After all, we’re doing a whole concert together. At her church. A place that means the world to her. “It’s our concert, not his. You can pick your own solo. Got anything in mind?”

“I’ll think of something. There are a lot of great songs.”

Sounds like I’ve appeased her. Crisis averted… for now.

“Melissa, I really like the songs from
Godspell
—and not because Zane suggested them.”

“Neil….” Annoyance creeps in her voice again. “Your
friend
may know a lot about the theater, but I know the Church. I don’t want to do a bunch of chorus-line type songs, with high kicks and feathers.”

I sing the first line of “Prepare Ye” from
Godspell
: “Prepare ye, the way of the Lord.”

A beat.

Nothing.

“That’s all it is, Melissa. Just those seven words, sung over and over.”

Another beat.

“Well… maybe.”

“I believe, I believe, I believe….” The
Spring Awakening
number.

“What’s that?” Melissa’s voice perks up.

“What?”

“That song you were just singing.”

“Was I singing?” I play innocent, hooking her, then reeling her in.

“Stop it, Neil… you know you were singing. What was it?”

“Oh, that. Just a song.”
I believe, I believe, I believe
and this time going beyond the opening and on to the lines that say there is love in heaven. “You like it?”

“Wow. That’s amazing—I love it. That would make a truly incredible middle song in the program. Where did you say you found it?”

A little soft-pedaling. “Well, it’s from a show called
Spring Awakening
, and there’s not a chorus line, a bead, a feather, or a high kick in the whole song. What do you say?”

Melissa laughs. “Okay, okay. We’ll do that one, but nothing else Zane suggested.”

That’s it for progress—for now, at least. I’ll give her time, then slip in the other two
Godspell
songs.

“Tell you what,” I say, “you get some sheet music together, and I’ll pick out some things I like. We’ll meet at your house tomorrow after school. Okay?”

“Sounds good,” Melissa agrees. “Night, Neil.” Her voice has suddenly become honey.

“Yeah, sure. Good night.”

I hang up the phone.

She’s going to have to get over this Zane hang-up. Tomorrow she’ll see Zane is right about the show tunes. I’ll just sneak in his suggestions. Funny… a month ago I didn’t have any friends, now I have two of them fighting over me. Well, Zane will learn to share, and Melissa will just have to get over her petty jealousy.

T
HE
SUN
nears the horizon as I arrive at the church. Melissa said to meet her in the sanctuary. My stomach’s gurgling at the thought.
Just hold on, Neil.
Melissa said we could go over last minute prep for the concert. That will surely be enough to distract me.

“Neil,” she says, rushing toward me as I walk down the aisle, eyes straight ahead, blocking out any colors that may be shining through. She hugs me. It’s a nervous, apprehensive hug for her; for me, it’s just apprehensive. The hug does nothing to allay my fears.

“I’ve been waiting for you. Why are you so late?” Her voice quavers. Did she work herself up over nothing?

“Late? We said 6:15, and it’s 6:11. I wouldn’t call that late.”

“You’re right.” She shakes her head. “I’m just nervous, I guess.”

I stare into her eyes, ignoring the inevitable. There’s no one around, no one to see. I could kiss her, right here, for a few minutes longer. She’d like that. Then maybe she’ll let me focus on the concert—the concert only. That’s all that matters.

“Look,” I say, placing my hands on her shoulders and looking her straight in the eye, “there is nothing to be nervous about. We are totally prepared, and you are fantastic.” I force a smile and try to be upbeat, delaying her hello kiss for whatever, a reason I’m not entirely sure of. “And besides, you look
maavelous
tonight.” Uh-oh. Wrong choice of words.

“
Maavelous
? Did you pick that up from your friend Sweet Zane?”

I know I blew it, but I don’t like the tone in her voice. “Don’t start. This is
our
night. Don’t let anything mess this up.”

“Okay.” Melissa looks down at the carpet. “Thanks for the compliment.” Crisis averted.

“I meant it. You look beautiful.” She smiles at me. I’ve won her over. And finally I plant the long-delayed kiss. I feel her loosen up. “Is the mic ready?” I say.

“I think so. Kenny said it would be set up and waiting for us. I’ll test it.” She bounds up onto the altar platform. I like her burst of enthusiasm.

“Testing… one… two… three…. How does that sound?”

“Great,” I answer, trying to match her mood.

Melissa shifts the microphone to the center. “Is this about where we want it?” She casts her eyes heavenward to see if the mic is centered on the platform.

Without thinking, my eyes follow hers.
Red, green, purple, yellow, blue, orange.
I stagger a step backward. Shut my eyes like an alligator clamping his jaws on his prey. Shake my head, releasing the colors. Open. Suddenly mesmerized. The colors stain Melissa’s light dress.

“Neil, what’s wrong?” Melissa rushes to me.

Beads of perspiration break out across my forehead. Bile rises.

“Are you okay?” She leads me to a chair and sits me down.

I swipe the sweat. My stomach settles just a bit. “I’m fine,” I lie. “I guess the reality just hit me. I felt a flock of butterflies in my gut.”

“Everything will be fine. Just trust the Lord.”

The same Lord who protected that nine-year-old I once was?

“I’ll get you some water. You rest a minute.” She leaves the sanctuary.

I close my eyes, hoping for the bliss of solitude.

But the colors still dot the inside of my eyelids.
Orange, blue, green, red, purple, yellow.
Why won’t they go away?

A nine-year-old voice:
“Please, stop.”

“You like it, Neil. You know you do.” Brother Gramm’s hot breath. It smothers him.

“No,” the boy Neil protests.

But Brother Gramm keeps on, touching him, touching himself. It seems to take forever.

The voice echoes, “Your body is a gift from God. And I am a man of God. He wants you to share your body with me, Neil. You want to please God, don’t you? God loves you, Neil. He doesn’t want you to disappoint him. But remember, this is our little secret. And you won’t tell because you like it.”

A tear slides down my cheek.

“Here’s some water, Neil.” Melissa holds the cup to my lips.

No! I don’t want to stay here.
I blink my eyes several times
. Did
I like it? Was that why I couldn’t fight him off me?

“Neil.” There is worry in Melissa’s voice. “We have a concert to do.” She tilts the cup up, letting water spill across my lips. “Drink some of this. You’ll feel better.”

A shudder, like reality pushing through. I look up at her as the cool water slides down my throat.

Then I realize: no more colors. I look to the windows. The sun has set. Safe—for now.

I gulp more of the water, suddenly more thirsty than I’ve ever been in my life.

“You’re going to be okay, right?” Melissa pleads.

I swallow. “More.”

Melissa jumps up, rushing the cup to the water fountain in the foyer.

I shake my head from side to side. Clear the lingering cobwebs.

She’s back with the water. I grab the cup, tip it up, and drink the whole thing in one swallow.

“I don’t know what came over me.” I cough. Talking while swallowing has done me in. But it’s a good feeling. An alive feeling.

Melissa leans in, surrounds my neck with her arms, touches her cheek to mine. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

Instead of pulling away, I find I like this. She’s loving, caring. I don’t know if I’ll ever welcome her touch all the time, but right now, it’s comforting. “I’m fine now. Don’t worry.”

“Good,” she says, breaking away. “One thing I forgot to tell you.” Melissa hesitates. “At the end of the program, Kenny will do an invitation.”

“Invitation?”

“You know—like at the end of the Sunday morning service—where he invites people to accept the Lord and join the church.”

“Oh, great. That’s all we need to end
our
concert.”

“The
Lord’s
concert,” Melissa almost whispers. Reverent-like.

“Okay, okay—the
Lord’s
concert,” I echo. Hate the churchy stuff, but God, I’m glad to be thinking about the concert again. The show must go on.

“One other thing.” Melissa measures her words carefully.