Adrian lay in bed trying to think about anything other than the life he was living. He stayed there a long while, thinking and staring out his window as the constellations rolled by in the night sky. He kept his viola under the blankets with him and placed the scroll end on the pillow as if it were the head of a companion sleeping at his side. Since his mother’s death he had personified his instruments in an unconscious attempt to deter his isolation. Loneliness can drive anyone mad. As he watched the constellations disappear from sight he faded away into his thoughts . . . where he had the most fantastic dream.
Sanctus
He awakens on the sandy dune of a desert where the air is hot and dry. The sun is so bright it causes him to blink constantly and forces his hands to his face to try to block some of the unrelenting glare off the sand. He can see that the desert goes on for miles and miles; it looks like it goes on forever. In one direction he can see a structure, a massive obelisk of sorts, protruding out of the ground and jutting several hundred feet in the air. It is charcoal black, diamond in shape, and at the top it comes to a peak where a light emanates from it upward into the heavens. He starts to walk towards it for what seems like hours without gaining any distance.
Suddenly, the end of the light, which disappears into the heavens, descends rapidly and enters the top of the obelisk, and the peak glows brighter and brighter by the millisecond. With a thunderous bang, the structure explodes with magnificent force. A massive gust of wind passes from the direction of the structure and is instantly followed by a blaze that incinerates everything in its path except Adrian, who is merely a spectator in this fantasy. Within seconds, everything is flattened. There are no more dunes, there is no more obelisk standing. There is nothing. The sand of the desert is vitrified and smooth as glass. Adrian looks up and the sky turns to night right before his eyes. The constellations look nothing like those he had viewed through his bedroom window. The sky is filled with a yellow-green tint that ripples in waves like the Atlantic off Nova Scotia during the changing of tides.
He feels a cold wind tear through him and lowers his view. No longer in the devastated desert, he sees he is in a frozen wasteland filled with mountains of ice and caverns littered with bones that appear intentionally thrown about. It is snowing consistently and blowing hard, but he does not care about the cold. He doesn’t feel anything, but is simply aware of it. Through the darkness of night and the whiteout haze of the snow, Adrian can faintly see a figure in the distance walking towards him. It is tall—at least seven feet. Its features are hard to distinguish, as it was wearing a heavy black robe. The small, visible bit of jaw bone reveals it is scaly in appearance, as do its exposed hands. It is almost skeletal—or possibly reptilian looking. As the figure comes closer, its eyes shine bright red for a split second, alarming Adrian to the reality of this fantastic, unimaginable dream.
The figure stops in front of Adrian, looks down at him, and speaks. “You have suffered a loss . . . a death sensation has brought you to me.” Its voice is rough and haggard, sounding like a deep-toned man speaking as he gargled corrosive cleaner. “In the Sea of Sorrow, you will find the song that crawls. Play it for the one.” The figure turns and walks back into the snow covered darkness, and disappears into the haze of the snow just as mysteriously as he had appeared. Adrian turns around and sees a path where no snow is falling or blowing, as if it were laid out especially for him.
He walks along the path for a few minutes and reaches a small dock with a small rowboat secured to the end. He sits in the rowboat, and the moment he touches the oars he is in the middle of a sea with massive waves crashing down on him from every direction. He finds himself thrown into a storm of epic proportions, and is virtually helpless against its ravaging force. Through the sinister crashing waves he occasionally sees glimpses of massive, scaly, aquatic life that resemble nothing he can fathom. He closes his eyes, thinks of his music, and drifts away in his head. Soon the harsh sounds of thunder clapping and waves crashing turn into more peaceful ones of a full orchestra within him. He is the maestro, and his mind is the baton. He can feel the movement of the sea wither away beneath him to the calmness of his thoughts. He opens his eyes to see the water level depleting as if it were a massive bath and someone had removed the plug. It lowers at a moderate but steady pace, and eventually lays him upon the muddy bottom of the sea. He steps out of the boat and sees a rock mound ahead. There is a faint sound of music coming from the direction of the rocks.
Upon investigating the rock mound, Adrian discovers, to his absolute astonishment, a doorway embedded in the stone. He opens the door and descends a long spiraling stairwell that feels like it goes on for hours. Eventually it comes to an end and opens into a large room that is dome shaped. Six different indents along the wall are each lit by a torch. The indents all contain statues, each one as smooth as the vitrified desert floor after the explosion . . . and they resemble beasts that can’t possibly be real. They are not statues of humans or animals, but almost a bizarre hybrid of the two. In the middle of the room is an altar that holds a manuscript of some sort. Adrian can no longer hear the faint music that led him to the doorway and down the stairwell, but his eyes light up with pure excitement when he looks upon the manuscript. It contains the musical notes for a song that he himself could never conjure up on his own. The formation of these notes and the unique time signatures of the piece defy everything he ever thought about the way music could be written. It is more like a mathematical formula than a simple melody.
From the corner of his eye Adrian notices a faint yellow-green glow coming from the darkness of the room. He walks over to where he thought the light source was coming from and notices a hieroglyph-type painting on the wall. It depicts a creature hideous in nature coming up from the depths of the earth and devouring all that is presented to it. It appears to sustain itself this way. Adrian takes another look at the manuscript, closes his eyes, and sings the song in his head, trying it with various mental instruments in order to determine which would be best suited for this masterpiece. He hears a glass-shattering shriek, and is slowly pulled back to reality.
Agnus Dei
Adrian sat up in bed, closed his eyes again, and started to play the song over and over in his head. He felt the notes crawl from one to another and ease their way into a cosmic bliss known only to a select few musicians throughout history. If the world were flat, this song would force it round, bringing everything together in a way so connected that all would be known, shared, and loved. Time and space would intertwine so flawlessly that anything and everything could be permitted. Memories would be the future and a place would just be a thought. He wondered if man was ready to hear such a piece of music. Would man even be able to comprehend it enough to appreciate its true potential?
A few hours went by while Adrian dwelt on the melody in his head, reminiscing over the strange, archaic world he visited within his dreams. The experience felt so real and alive that he questioned its authenticity. Regardless, the song that crawled out of the dream world when he awoke was very much a real, living piece of music. He was not yet sure of the reason for the song, but knew it had a very significant importance to him and his well-being. He felt the song could take his whole life and make it complete; a life he longed for where he could be alone and lavish in the joys of his songs.
Hours passed as he was left in solitude with his thoughts, and it was nearing dinner time. He could hear his father in the kitchen, throwing things around as if he was engaged in a battle. He headed down the stairs and sat at one end of the table. A small bowl of soup had been placed on the placemat in front of him. His father sat at the opposite end, eating a large piece of roast beef, mashed potatoes, and assorted vegetables. There was also a large bowl of soup with several packets of sodium crackers piled next to it, and a large pint of Indian Pale Ale. Adrian looked to the left at the empty place where his mother once sat, looking radiant and pleased as she discussed the joys of music with her beloved son. There was no more conversation of
such things; just an empty seat at a cold table. He ate his soup slowly but steadily, every once in a while giving a quick glance around the room. He noticed his father’s eyes were always maliciously fixated on him.
James stared at his son with a look of pure hatred and disappointment—almost as if he blamed the entire world’s problems on his son—but Adrian was more than used to this, as it happened every time he ate a meal at this lonely, long dead table. Once he finished his soup, Adrian slowly picked up his empty bowl and made his way to the sink where he rinsed it. As he let the cold water from the well splash back and forth on the bowl, it slipped out of his hands and shattered throughout the big farmhouse sink. Before the sound of the breaking bowl faded, he heard the sound of his father’s fork and knife slam into his plate, causing Adrian to turn around just in time to receive a thudding backhand to the left temple. He dropped to the floor from the near-knockout blow. As his vision started to return, he felt an unrelenting pain in his chest. It was the impact of his father’s work boots making an imprint with each stomp he took, forcing the boy to the hardwood floor and into unconsciousness.
Lux Æternum
Adrian awoke on the kitchen floor. The night sky was already dark through the picture window. He found it difficult to breathe, and his chest was severely bruised from the assault he endured. There was a midnight-black welt on the left side of his temple and trails of dried blood from both nostrils. He picked himself up slowly and limped to the washroom to clean up. Through the doorway, he could see his father passed out in his chair in the living room, empty bottles scattered all around him. The door made a slight creaking sound every time it moved, so he tried his best to quiet it as he carefully closed it behind him. Like a cat in the night, he made his way up the stairs of the old farmhouse and into his room. He climbed into bed and stared out his window while watching as again the constellations slowly drifted by over time. He closed his eyes and thought of all the things he missed. He thought of that far-off world in his dream and wondered if he would ever see that place again. He felt a glare through his eyelids as he lay in bed, as if someone suddenly turned on a light in a darkened room. His eyes opened, and to his astonishment, he was back at the doorway at the bottom of the drained sea.
Libera Me
The door is already open, and he hears the beautiful song coming from the depths of the long spiraling stairwell. No time is wasted as he immediately heads through the door and begins his descent down the stairs into the unknown dream that awaits. Once he reaches the bottom, he is again in the dome shaped room—but he isn’t alone this time. Off to the side, he sees the outline of the figure that met him in the frozen wasteland. The figure makes his way towards him, and with a slow methodical gesture lowers the hood of his darkened robe to expose his face. It is large and scaly, yellow-green in complexion with ridges and tiny skeletal horns protruding from it in symmetrical sequences all over. Its mouth is not the same shape as a man’s, as it appears to open in two separate directions: top to bottom like a man’s, but also left to right. When opened, it looks like a perfect circle. Most of its teeth are small and sharp little nails, except for four, which are large fangs, and located on each side of the mouth. They almost appear to be too big as they extend past the opposing sides of the mouth. Next to its ears are extensions of webbed-reptilian skin which jut out a few inches and descend downward, ending as they join the collar bone.
For a second, the creature’s eyes shine a glowing red color, and as they dissipate it speaks. “Play the song . . . see the one . . . crawl.” The creature’s eyes begin to glow red again but they do not fade away this time. They grow brighter and brighter, then quickly become so bright that Adrian can see nothing but red and is forced to shut his eyes and cover them with the palms of his hands. A moment passes and Adrian lowers his hands. He is in his room, sitting up in bed and sweating profusely. He takes a moment to gather his composure, but he knows exactly what he has to do. He has to play the song.
Without hesitation he reaches for his finest viola and makes his way down the stairs. His father lay sleeping in his chair, still passed out from the consumption of too much pale ale. With his instrument ready, Adrian sits in the love seat on the opposite side of the room, the place he used to sit to entertain his mother on those longed for Sunday afternoons. He raises the viola to his shoulder and places his chin on the guard while extending the wooden bow until it hovers over the strings. He begins to play. A song is heard throughout the farmhouse that can’t be described in words. It echoes a history of untold musicians and defies everything of which a song is capable.
His father’s eyes open immediately, but he cannot move. He is paralyzed in the chair and completely entranced by the song being played. Adrian sees a black mist forming at his father’s feet, spiraling faster and faster as it grows in size, like a tornado preparing to release itself on an unsuspecting landscape. Within the growing vortex that is forming, he sees flashes of electricity and what appear to be stars; complete constellations. These are not the usual constellations he is accustomed to, but the unrecognizable ones he had dreamt about in that fantastic land of mystery. He plays on, harder and with more emotion than ever before. He feels alive again for the first time since the loss of the only person he ever loved, and when he realizes the joy he is feeling, he begins to cry. The moment he sheds his first tear, two hands are thrown out of the vortex and rest on either side of it. Using the hardwood floor as leverage, something forces its way out. A creature begins to crawl its way into this world. It is the massive reptilian from the dream. Its yellow-green eyes begin to glow red as it crawls slowly out of the vortex and clenches his father. Adrian smiles and vigorously plays the impossible song with more emotion than ever imaginable. His father’s eyes are wide open and his skin is a pale shade of white, but he is unable to move in any way. The creature creeps complacently back into the vortex as the song crawls along . . . and James is no more.
In Paradisum
After James missed several appointments to deliver livestock, the market began to call his house on a regular basis to inquire about the deliveries. They tried for two days before sending a representative to check the old homestead for fear James may have fallen ill, or possibly been injured while tending to the farm. When the representative arrived, James was nowhere to be seen; but Adrian was in the front room playing the piano peacefully and beautifully. At this point, the representative decided to contact the local authorities to report a missing person.
After two days of searching the area, Adrian sat alone in the back of the sheriff’s patrol car smiling uncontrollably at the happiness he had felt since his father’s disappearance. He spent the time reminiscing about his mother and played music for her memory on the piano she used to adore hearing. Over the seat and through the front windshield of the Ford Model cruiser, he could see Sheriff Mackay and Deputy Grant walking out of the farmhouse. They looked distraught and confused. As they approached the cruiser, Adrian could hear them as they tried to figure out what exactly happened to his father. They leaned on the hood of the cruiser and began to talk about the matter as if he wasn’t even there.
“I don’t get it, Sheriff. We’ve checked this entire homestead for two solid days now, and we haven’t found a thing,” The deputy sounded frustrated. “There isn’t one single piece of evidence here to help us out.”
“Well, who says he wants to be found or helped?” Adrian’s smiling face fixated on the Sheriff though the car’s windshield, curious about their theories as he knew no one would ever be able to comprehend the true horror which had taken place in the farmhouse. “Truth is he probably hitched a ride down to the harbor and jumped a merchant ship out to sea for a new life. Just had enough of being alone on this farm here.”
“Sheriff, what kind of grown man abandons his young son and takes off for a new life?” Adrian could see the Deputy looked even more confused at this point. “That makes no sense to me at all!” the deputy said disgustedly.
“Come on, Deputy, y
ou know it was no secret what James thought of the young lad here. I’m surprised he didn’t do something cowardly like this shortly after his wife died, or even worse, cause some harm to the boy.” Adrian could see from the sheriff’s eyes that he truly did not like James, and would not likely be too upset to find out that James had expired. “What we have to do now is get this boy where he needs to be. I’ll have the dispatcher at headquarters notify personnel at the Waterville asylum of Adrian’s arrival and arrange to have him transported there first thing in the morning.”
“You’re going to send him to the Waterville asylum, Sheriff?”
The sheriff gave a stern look and took his hat off so the deputy could see the seriousness of his face.
“Deputy, do you really think any families in these parts are going to want to take in a mute, mongoloid boy who has lost both his parents? I hate to say it, but the asylum is really the only option.”
Adrian turned his attention from the police officers and looked over the landscape. He looked past the fields of wheat and out into the open Atlantic. He watched the mist from the waves breaking on the shore as it spread through the sky, causing small rainbows to appear and disappear in seconds. He smelled the pollen as it floated in the breeze and penetrated the senses like no other form in nature. He smiled continuously and joyously as the song crawled around his mental orchestra as if guiding him to a world of bliss that he had longed to feel for so long. For Adrian, everything was perfect.
Darkness Ad Infinitum Page 17
