The Song

by Chris Fabry

  “But it’s so soon. I thought we’d have time together. Just the two of us.”

  Jed nodded. It was a loss, of sorts. Having a child this early was not the plan, though they hadn’t given pregnancy a specific spot on their calendar. “This is a gift from God. A surprise, yes. But a gift that’s going to change us and bring a lot of joy.”

  Tears brimmed in his own eyes now. They hugged and Jed whooped so loudly that people in the podiatrist’s office at the other end of the building could hear.

  “The Song” released as a single to limited airplay on a few stations, but something happened about a month later. Call it word of mouth or a groundswell—it was big. Stan said they needed to take advantage of the wave that was growing, so Jed put his band together from a few of the guys he’d played with through the years and they began playing moderate-size venues.

  “I don’t want this to get in the way of us,” Jed said to Rose before going on the road.

  Rose shook her head. “No, this is us. This is just an extension of us. Let’s go for it. Together.”

  CHAPTER 21

  AFTER THE HONEYMOON, Rose had moved into Jed’s apartment in Louisville until they could get a bigger place. Her dad offered to help them with a down payment on a house, but Jed refused. He wanted them to be as independent as possible from both sides of their family. They squirreled away the money that came from his concerts and the advance from the label and put the cash gifts from the wedding into a savings account.

  Rose called her dad each day. He’d hired a teenager from a neighboring farm to come in and help him, and it sounded like the boy was good for Shep. There had been some problems in the kid’s family and being around someone stable, like Shep, was a gift. And a strong back was what Rose’s father needed most.

  Rose traveled with the band from town to town while Jed performed and wrote new songs for the next album. Some of the songs came fast and poured out like a bucket tipped over. Others came in drips and drops, sort of like he was pulling at a thread that led to another and another until he grabbed hold of the whole cord. These songs were equally good, sometimes better, and he loved the process of finding the rhyme and tunes and just the right phrase.

  In the meantime, “The Song” rose to number seventeen on the country charts. That it was Rose’s song had knit them together every time he performed it, every time they heard it on the radio. One night when the crowd swelled and Rose stood in the audience, he caught her eye and pointed at her, giving her the look that melted her heart. The look that said, We’re together in this. I can’t do this without you. You’re the reason for any success we have.

  The only drawback to their life together, other than the traveling and staying in hotels, was the troubling scene at the front of the stage each night. Girls with low-cut tops and short shorts pranced and danced to try to capture his eyes. And it wasn’t just the teenagers. Older women with freshly colored hair dressed like teenagers and acted just as inappropriately. When Rose was quiet later that night at the hotel, Jed asked what she was thinking.

  “I see all those girls, all those women looking at you. Some are innocent, but I can tell others are sending messages.”

  “I only have eyes for you,” Jed said, rubbing her belly and feeling the baby kick. He laughed and pushed on the hand or foot moving inside and marveled at what was happening inside her.

  Her body was changing and her heart was too. It was no longer just Jed and her—there was another person in the mix and that scared her. Could she love this little one like she loved Jed?

  When she got to her seventh month of pregnancy, Rose knew she couldn’t travel any longer. The rumbling of the bus and the lack of privacy made her long for home, but Jed’s apartment was tiny and the neighbors were loud. He had been looking at houses in Louisville, about a half hour away from Sharon, and the more Rose thought about it, the more she knew this was the best for them—not to say good-bye to what she’d always known but to separate from her dad. Leaving wasn’t really a matter of distance; it was a matter of the heart.

  Jed struggled with the move too. He didn’t want to take Rose away from her father. He felt the same kind of guilt being away from his own mom so much while he was on the road.

  His mother had been there for him through all the childhood struggles, all the rejection of the rest of the family, the ridicule and scorn. He told Rose about a night onstage in middle school when he’d tried so hard to play one of his father’s songs but things didn’t go well. His mother had been there long into the night, helping him see that life wasn’t perfect and you could learn something from every performance. She’d been his biggest cheerleader. She wanted him to succeed and fall in love and start a family. But her emotion at the wedding, that melancholy look, hung over both of them. She had lost a husband, then another, and now a son, although it encouraged Jed to think that she’d be gaining a grandson.

  Rose’s dad made a show of telling her she should leave, that she should begin anew with her husband, but it was a gift that was half-wrapped and didn’t have a bow.

  They visited the vineyard a few weeks before Rose’s due date and before they closed on the house in Louisville. They had scraped enough together to qualify for a balloon mortgage on a place near Cherokee Park. From the start, they’d fallen in love with the house—all that space inside, all those trees in the back, and a yard big enough for a swing set and playground when the baby grew into a toddler.

  Shep had been telling them that the family dog, Duke, was getting older, slowing down, whining at odd hours, and his appetite wasn’t good. As Jed petted the old dog, he knew it was time. He could see it so clearly but Shep and Rose wanted to hang on.

  “If you want, I can take him to the vet,” Jed offered. “It might be easier for you if you let me do it.”

  Shep set his jaw. “No. I don’t need a vet. Come on, Duke.”

  “What are you going to do, Mr. Jordan?”

  “We’re gonna take a long walk.”

  The man got his rifle and Jed looked at Rose, who watched Duke through misty eyes. She tried to say something, then looked away.

  Jed followed Shep outside, not asking permission. Shep grabbed a shovel as he passed the barn and Jed took it from him and carried it as they walked up the hill.

  “You don’t need to watch this,” Shep said.

  “I want to come with you. My dad said there are some things a man should never have to do alone.”

  Shep stopped. “He said that to you, did he?” He studied Jed for a moment, then moved on.

  It took a long time for Duke to make it to the pond, and when he did, he leaned over and sniffed at the water. Then he kept walking, stiff-legged, up the embankment toward the tree line. It was painful to watch, and Jed couldn’t help thinking it would make a really sad song. He could call it “The Long Walk.” Words and images ran around his head like they did with every song.

  He watched the older man, weathered hands wrapped around the gun barrel. His gait and the dog’s were the same, stiff-legged and slow. It’s the longest walk he’ll take, Jed thought, but there’s a friend by his side. You can take a long walk if you have someone who loves you nearby.

  Jed saw the reflection of the sky on the surface of the pond. A lonely crow passed overhead. When they got to a spot near an oak tree, not far from the grave of Rose’s mother, Jed sank his rounded shovel into the earth and smelled the fresh, loamy soil.

  “I guess this is as good a place as any,” Shep said.

  Jed thought of another walk up a hill. The weight of the world and a cross on a man’s shoulders. A man in Roman garb with weathered hands driving nails into flesh. Maybe it wouldn’t work to compare that with this, but the image moved him. Jed dug a little deeper as the dog sat in the grass, his eyes tired, his tongue hanging out.

  “I’ve known he was in pain for the longest time and I just couldn’t bring myself to do this,” Shep said.

  “It’s hard letting something like that go. Something good that’s been here
so long.”

  “I think this old dog kept both Rose and me alive. The boys too. He brought light to a house that turned dark fast.”

  “You’re doing a good thing,” Jed said. “You’re doing a kind thing.”

  “Yeah, but it don’t feel kind. I’d rather see him crawl off somewhere and let nature take its course. Just have him disappear.”

  “Maybe he’s returning the favor,” Jed said.

  Shep cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

  Jed stopped digging for a minute and leaned on the shovel. “Maybe he knew you needed help all those years ago. He knew he could fill a void. He helped you get through the pain of losing your wife and the pain of your children losing a mother. And now he’s giving you the chance to pay him back. To let him go. End his suffering.”

  Shep put a hand on the dog’s head and held it there like he was passing on a blessing. The dog closed his eyes and whimpered and tried to get comfortable on the ground.

  “Letting go of something you love is the hardest thing, ain’t it?” Shep said.

  Jed thought of the irony, the same thing the man was going through letting go of Rose. “But it’s because you love him that you can let go,” he said.

  Shep looked up with red, pleading eyes. Jed kept digging until there was a heap of dark earth and a hole deep enough that critters wouldn’t disturb the sleep of Shep’s old friend.

  “Why don’t you let me?” Jed said. “You go on back to the house.”

  “I’ll see it through,” Shep said. He got down on his knees next to the dog and put his face close and Jed had to look away. There are just some things too holy to watch. Dying is not a spectator sport and dealing with it is as personal and intimate as any act on earth. There were no words that passed between the man and the animal, just a closeness that spoke all Shep needed to say.

  The man stood and picked up the gun and Duke didn’t move, not a flinch or a twitch. He was just resting when the shot rang out through the countryside and echoed off the hills. Quail rose from a nearby thicket and flew into the air, almost in formation, Jed thought.

  He helped Shep gently pull the dog into the hole and then spread earth over the body. When the mound was rounded, Shep grabbed some rocks and made a small headstone.

  As they walked back to the house, Shep put his arm around Jed and without looking at him said, “Your daddy was right.”

  CHAPTER 22

  ALL THROUGH THE PREGNANCY Rose swore she would never have another baby. It took such a toll on her body, and her hormones were all over the place. Denise talked her down from the ledge several times, coming to her home and sitting with her at the kitchen table. Rose was happy about the baby. She was glad they were starting a family, but all the emotions swirled and made her wonder about her ability as a mother.

  “I know I can help my dad with the vineyard,” she said to Jed late at night on the phone. “I know I’m competent and capable of doing just about anything, but this mother thing scares me to death.”

  “You’re not doing this on your own,” Jed said.

  “I know you’re going to support me,” she said quickly. “But you also have a job to do.”

  “I’m not talking about me,” he said. “I’m talking about God. Rose, he’s going to be right there with you, giving you the energy and the patience and the love you need. You’re going to be an amazing mom.”

  “Maybe I’m just scared that in all of this I’m going to lose something.”

  “Lose what?”

  She held back at first, then managed to choke out, “Myself. I look at the moms in church and their kids become their whole life. And that’s good. Children are a treasure and they’re important, but if your whole life centers around your kids, don’t you lose yourself?”

  Jed was silent on the other end of the phone. He waited so long she wondered if maybe he had gone to sleep. Then he said, “Maybe in losing yourself you actually find yourself. Maybe instead of making you feel like you’re dying inside, this baby will make you come alive in a way you’ve never been before.”

  Rose didn’t like the words at first. It sounded like she was the only one doing the losing. But as the birth neared, she treasured his thoughts.

  Jed canceled a show and caught a plane when the doctor confirmed the baby was coming. Relief flooded Rose when he walked in and took Denise’s spot beside her.

  Holding his hand, watching his face, gave her comfort, but it didn’t take the pain away. When he watched the machine charting the rise and fall of the contractions instead of looking at her, she grabbed his arm and dug her fingernails in. “Look at me, don’t look at that stupid machine!”

  Her intensity surprised even her, but Jed responded well and was right in her face the rest of the way through, all the way until the last push. It was his eyes, always the eyes—the way they scrunched when he laughed and smiled, and then the tears of joy at the miracle of life they beheld.

  All her questions, all the fatigue and nausea and swelling and pain, vanished the moment she held her son. She and Jed had made this child together. He was a miracle God had performed through the love of a husband and wife. There was a song in there; she was sure Jed would find it, something beautiful and mystical and praiseworthy.

  Jed stayed home for a week, doting on Rose and holding Ray and singing to him. He finished painting Ray’s room and putting up the Noah’s ark trim on the wall. Rose rested and recovered, looking in awe at the little hands and feet and listening to his beating heart. Watching someone so tiny and helpless and dependent on her made her well up with feelings for her mom. How Rose wished she could be there to see her grandson. But her father’s reaction was priceless. He didn’t weep, exactly—her dad wasn’t the weeping kind. He just stood in the corner and held Ray, rocking back and forth, staring at him like he was the next king of England.

  When Jed went back on the road, Rose felt a loss. She was in a new neighborhood with no friends or relatives close. She spent weekends with her dad in the old house, but that felt like cheating. She knew she was just trying to get through the transition, this space in time when two had become three, but something gnawed at her. She wanted Jed to be a success. She wanted him to write great songs and become everything he was meant to be. But what price would they have to pay?

  She was at her dad’s house for a visit when Jed returned a week later and surprised her. He marveled at how much Ray had grown. “I don’t want to miss any of this,” he said. “Him rolling over for the first time. First steps. First words.”

  Rose smiled at Jed, knowing he meant it. “You were right, you know,” she said.

  “About what?”

  “About losing myself. I was so scared that I wouldn’t measure up as a mom. But once you hold that little man in your arms, there’s no going back to the old life. And I do feel alive inside like never before.”

  Jed smiled at her in the way that said another song was percolating. “Alive Inside.” That would be a good song for the second album, she thought.

  Ray got fussy and Jed placed him at Rose’s breast. Jed sat in a chair and watched the two of them. Rose glanced out the window at the chapel in the distance, still half-finished.

  CHAPTER 23

  EVERY TIME JED CAME HOME, he got the feeling that this was where he needed to be. Not that the road wasn’t good or fun; it was. But it was also a lot of work. It was exhausting to travel and stay in cheap hotels and deal with the drama that always came with musicians and life. But he knew this was what he’d been called to do. It was the thing he did that stoked the fire inside and kept him going.

  The truth was, he needed both. He needed the anchor of home, Rose and Ray, in order to do the thing he was made to do. Untether him from that and his songs were just flailing in the wind. The passion and pain and heart came through when he wrote and sang about that deep, committed love he was just beginning to understand.

  He told Stan not to schedule anything around Ray’s first birthday, and the man grudgingly complied. Jed
had a whole week to be at home, and even this early, he could tell that having Ray was going to be a blast. He could see himself in the stands at Little League games or maybe even coaching a team, though he didn’t know much about baseball fundamentals. He could learn. He would just be there for his son, encouraging him, praising him for any little success, and correcting him when he needed it.

  He told Rose to go out with a friend one night, that he would watch Ray, and her eyes lit with excitement. She called Denise and they planned to meet halfway. Denise was now planning her own wedding and they had a lot to talk about.

  She kissed Jed, just a peck on the cheek, then turned and gave him another that sent a different message. “Don’t fall asleep before I get back.”

  He smiled and watched her drive away, then sat on the floor and watched Ray toddle from one room to another, testing the boundaries of their baby gates.

  Jed fed him dinner, amazed at how much food stuck to Ray’s face. Then it was in the bath, into pajamas, and snuggling together on the couch with three of Ray’s favorite books. Jed could feel the little guy’s energy leaking out with each page turn. Ray relaxed on Jed’s chest and his arms fell at his sides and he yawned. When they were done, Jed carried him to his crib and gently laid him down.

  “Good night, buddy.”

  He was on the way to the kitchen to clean the dishes when he heard a voice.

  “Drink!”

  Ray was standing in his crib, one arm draped over the side. “Drink.”

  “Okay, I’ll get your cup; then you have to go to sleep, okay?”

  It was like bargaining with some Middle Eastern terrorist group. Once Ray saw he could get a drink, he asked for another story. And when Jed gave in and said, “Just one more,” Ray asked for another.