Knight Music

by Darlene Franklin

  ❧

  Ty took the stone back, rubbed his thumb over the surface in a single reassuring movement, and tucked it into his pocket. “Sometimes.” But not today. Although the carousel provided a happy oasis, he felt the goodwill created by the day slipping away before they reached the car. He shook himself. “What do you want to eat?” He looked down the town’s main street. “It looks like we have a choice of hamburgers or. . .hamburgers.”

  Sonia’s laughter bubbled over him. “Then by all means, let’s have hamburgers. Some of those square ones.” She pointed to the entrance for the drive-through, and soon they returned to the highway.

  They ate in companionable silence. Sonia stuck the empty containers in the trash bag Ty kept on the front seat. She settled in the passenger seat, half-turned to face him. “Are you ready to tell Joe what happened?”

  The question he had avoided for a week. “Not really.” Ty’s right hand slid down to the pocket holding the worry stone. “But I don’t think I’ll ever feel ready.” He swallowed. “I’ve left a message for my associate, to make arrangements to pick up everything. But he hasn’t called me back yet.” She looked at him without blinking. “Not to put you off, but it might be another week before I can get away to Denver. To bring it back.”

  She finally blinked and nodded once. “I can live with that. Just let me know once you’ve made the arrangements, okay?”

  Her request reminded Ty how fragile the veneer of trust between them was. “I’ll do that.”

  She relaxed, a hint of a smile playing around her lips. She laughed. “You don’t have to look so worried. Right now focus on that brass ring and tonight’s concert. I’ve prayed for you, and whatever else happens, I know this much: God is doing His best to shower you with His love. And I don’t think you can resist Him much longer.”

  Then Sonia did the most astonishing thing of all. She leaned across the seat and kissed his cheek.

  Ten

  After the kiss, Sonia retreated to her side of the car, her face turned forward so that even though Ty must see the flush spreading across her cheeks, he couldn’t read her expression.

  How much more foolish could she act, after her determination not to get involved with an unbeliever and after his hurtful confession of betrayal? So why did her heart feel lighter than it had for weeks?

  “What was that for?” Ty’s voice sounded as strangled as her throat felt.

  The burn in her cheeks went up a degree. “That was meant to encourage you that you are headed in the right direction.”

  “Huh.” He whistled a couple of measures, a tune she recognized as part of the concert’s showpiece by Mozart. “I hope so. I certainly hope so.” He smiled at her then, and the world tilted in the right direction. It hadn’t made it all the way yet, but it was headed there.

  They arrived in Ulysses with half an hour to spare. Sonia went straight to the church, while Ty stopped by the castle to change into the black-and-white attire required for the musicians. More likely, he would wear black-on-black, his preferred colors. Since Sonia hid away in the sound booth, she could wear whatever she wanted.

  She grinned. People who didn’t know her well sometimes accused her of dressing to draw attention to herself. But she dressed to please herself, often with colors and bling that expressed her joy. Like today. She checked the golden hoops dangling from her ear lobes and then adjusted the red knit scarf draped across one shoulder. At the church, she exchanged her ponytail for a loose chignon held in place by a large red hair clip. Her outfit had nothing to do with her date with Ty. Of course not.

  Ty left her more confused than ever. She didn’t understand herself. She had no business entertaining romantic notions about him. So why did she still hanker after him? She had never been the sort to fall for a bad boy, so why did she find him so attractive now?

  She climbed the stairs to the sound booth and unlocked the door. Once again, she resolved to keep away from Ty and prayed for strength to follow through. Did knowing about his crime make her some kind of accessory? The thought kept coming back to plague her. She opened a bottle of water she had brought with her and took a deep drink.

  Someone knocked on the door, and Josh entered. “Are you ready to check the mics?”

  “Sure.” Sonia glanced at the clock. Ten minutes to go before the musicians would arrive, yet already guests were filtering into the sanctuary.

  Josh disappeared down the stairs and reappeared on the platform. She made minute adjustments to the mic settings until Josh flashed an okay sign. During the break, she made a bathroom run before returning to her upstairs sanctuary. From her aerie in the balcony, she watched the congregation assemble week by week. Who claimed which self-assigned seats? Which boy changed places to sit next to which girl? Which parents struggled with their babies instead of taking them to the nursery? Not that she blamed them. If she ever had a baby, she’d probably want to keep her nearby as often as possible. A baby with Ty’s expressive dark eyes.

  The concert had drawn many people Sonia hadn’t met during her brief stint in Ulysses. Brief. She couldn’t believe that a third of her six-month residence had already passed. The thought of leaving saddened her. Tonight she saw new faces, people who hadn’t attended a week ago. Others had returned, bringing new people with them. People would be packed even more tightly than last week.

  One man entered, alone, accepted a program, and walked down the aisle on the left-hand side of the sanctuary to the front row where he sat directly in front of the string section. Something about him tickled her memory, but then the arrival of the extended Knight family distracted her attention. A dark-haired boy joined the two girls on the pew. He looked like he could be Ty’s son, and Sonia’s heart faltered. Then she spotted Carrie and Steve Romero, Michelle’s friends, and she recognized their son Viktor, adopted from Romania. The couple had gone the extra mile, agreeing to return for a second concert.

  The lights flickered twice, the house lights dimmed, and the spotlight landed on the cornucopia on display behind the choir. Ty and Joe, the two tallest men in the choir, centered the back row. The pianist struck the opening chords, and the second Harvest Concert opened with a medley of Thanksgiving favorites.

  ❧

  Ty let his eyes adjust to the dimmed lights and focused on Josh’s hands as he directed the choir. He did a better job of bringing them in than at cutting them off, and Ty winced as he heard multiple hisses when they sang “Jesus.” But the audience didn’t appear to care, clapping at the end of the medley as if they were listening to the Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir.

  The lights dimmed again, and several teens exchanged the cornucopia for the Easter scene Ty had painted with Max.

  As far as Ty was concerned, crucifixion ranked right up there with chopping off a thief’s hand as cruel and unusual punishment. He changed the music in his folder, glad they didn’t go in for that today. Or else he would never confess his misdeeds.

  But these church people believed Jesus was more than an innocent man put to death for a crime he didn’t commit—a fate endured by thousands before and since. They insisted Jesus came to earth to die on that cross and somehow by doing so He made it possible for God to forgive sin—all sin. Oh and by the way, He had risen from the dead and lived still today.

  It didn’t make sense, nor did the songs they sang, although Ty enjoyed the gospel feel of “The Old Rugged Cross.” But when he saw the faces of the people around him, he sensed their sincerity. They meant every word.

  They ended the section with a song called “Because He Lives,” and he envied the rest of the choir for the peace they radiated. Some of them faced tough times. He had heard the prayer requests. Yet they faced the future with an unbelievable certainty and peace.

  When the set ended, he felt relieved. The choir filed from the stage while the Romeros set up for their section. Ty fetched his violin and lingered near the door as Steve and Carrie sang a couple of duets before inviting their son to join them. Next Viktor performed on a child’s reco
rder with his father’s accompaniment. The boy played the simple instrument with a pure, clear sound. He had the makings of a fine musician.

  When the Romeros finished their music and the audience rose to its feet, Ty prepared to take his place with the orchestra waiting to file onto the stage. But while he still stood in the door, a man turned in his direction and smiled.

  Kirby Kent.

  “Go ahead.” Josh motioned for the orchestra to enter.

  Ty shook himself. Later he could ask questions. For now he had to keep up the pretense and deliver the performance of his life. He smiled at Josh and took his place in line behind the viola player. From his seat at the edge of the platform, he could see Kirby Kent clearly.

  During the intermission, the prop handlers had exchanged the Easter scene for the large flag, so well executed that it looked like a stiff Colorado wind rippled through it. The orchestra embarked on a set of patriotic songs. Four of the church’s veterans carried the colors during “It’s a Grand Old Flag”; a children’s choir joined them for a song that ran through the capitals of all fifty states; and the congregation joined in singing “God Bless America.” The music featured the brass section—that octogenarian trumpeter blew his horn like he was twenty years old. Max exchanged his tambourine for a triangle during several songs.

  The fanfare kept Ty from worrying about Kent until the next break, when they exchanged the flag for the night sky. Kent spoke with the people to his left—no one Ty recognized, people who had squeezed in as the concert started. On Kent’s other side sat Pastor Perkins and his wife. Mrs. Perkins might wrangle the story from Kent, something Ty hoped to avoid.

  Ty fixed his attention on Mozart’s Night Music. Josh lifted his baton, and within the first three notes, the magic of the music carried Ty to a place where nothing existed except beauty and wholeness.

  At the end of the concert, the pastor welcomed the guests and extended a low-key invitation to return for Sunday services. Expecting a request for an encore this time, the orchestra reprised the last section of Night Music. Then the full house lights came on, and relief and exultation flowed through the group in equal measure. Ty didn’t move. Max stopped by his chair. “Thank God He sent you our way, brother. It’s sure been good to have you here.”

  By Max’s own admission, he had once been a drunkard and “the worst of sinners.” If Ty could believe that transformation, maybe there was hope for him after all.

  Then he saw Kent talking with the pastor and pointing to him, and Ty recognized the futility of those hopes. There would be no second chances for him.

  ❧

  Sonia watched as Ty stepped down from the platform and spoke with the pastor and the same man she had noticed earlier. A memory shifted, and she remembered where she had seen the stranger before: at the art museum in Denver. The thief.

  For a wild moment, her heart sped faster. Perhaps he had brought the artwork to Ulysses. Perhaps even now her painting waited in a van in the parking lot. But then she saw Ty’s face. His charming facade slipped for a moment, replaced with ill humor. The stranger was all smiles, chatting with Pastor and Mrs. Perkins. When Ty made to leave, the stranger barred his way, still smiling while he gestured outside. Ty nodded before following the other musicians out the side door.

  “Pray for him.” The Holy Spirit whispered the words into Sonia’s heart. “He’s in danger.”

  Sonia closed up the sound booth, saying short prayers with each step. Turning off the sound board, she asked, “Lord, silence the tempter’s schemes.” Shutting down the lights, she said, “Lord, lead him into Your light.” As she locked the door behind her, she cried, “Let him open the door to his heart when You knock.”

  A handful of people stopped her to praise the magnificent backdrops. Sonia forced herself to civility while her eyes roamed the sanctuary, but Ty and the stranger had disappeared. Her high school students carted the backdrops back to the fellowship hall under Hugh Classen’s supervision. He asked, “Do you think we could take these to school?”

  “I don’t know why not, but check with Josh. And guys? Thanks for all your help.” The kids had saved the day in the props department, and she wanted to recognize their contribution.

  Michelle found her. “Hey, Ty stopped me on his way out and asked if he could have a rain check. And I said I’d be happy to take you home with me.”

  Sonia closed her eyes and sent up another plea for help.

  “Sonia?”

  She opened her eyes. “Sure. That sounds fine.” Let her get home and start filling the pages of her prayer journal.

  ❧

  Ty arrived at the motel first, located on the way out of town. He climbed out of his seat and then realized he didn’t know which room Kent had rented, so he leaned against the hood of the car.

  Kent arrived a couple of minutes later and took his time getting out of the car. He laughed as he opened the door with an old-fashioned key. “You got quite a gig going on here. You could have knocked me over with a feather when I heard about it.”

  “How did you find me?” Ty had never told Kent his real name.

  “Please. Give me some credit. I’ve known who you were almost from the beginning, but I played along.” Kent chortled. “Bruce Wayne, or should I say Ty Knight, sitting as concertmaster for a church orchestra.” He threw his head back and laughed. “Gotta love it.”

  Ty gritted his teeth. He didn’t need more reminders of how ridiculous his grand scheme appeared. “What are you doing down here, Kent? I don’t think you came all the way to Ulysses just to laugh at me.”

  “Why no, compadre. You called me, remember?” Kent fished around in the refrigerator. “Care to join me for a drink?” He pulled out two longnecks. “Champagne might be more appropriate, but I don’t think this place offers room service.”

  All Ty wanted was to leave as soon as possible. He shook his head.

  “Bruce, my friend, you need to relax.” Kent sipped his beer. He opened the second bottle and thrust it at Ty.

  “I said I don’t want any. I’ll take club soda, if you have it.”

  “Since when have you become too good for a drink?” Kent rummaged through the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water.

  “Since forever. That’s one vice I managed to avoid.”

  “Take a seat and sit a spell.” Kent suited his action to his words.

  “I’m not here on a social call, Kent. Cut to the chase.”

  Kent’s bonhomie vanished. He unzipped the suitcase lying on the luggage rack and dug into one of the side pockets. Ty saw a stuffed envelope, and the dark feeling that had dogged him all night crept as high as his eyeballs.

  “Here you go, partner. Ten thousand smackers. I found a very accommodating buyer.” Kent thrust the envelope at Ty, but he didn’t take it, and it fell to the floor, raining hundreds on the way down.

  “What did you do that for?” Kent bent over to pick up the cash.

  Ty grabbed him by both arms and made him look at him. “You sold the pieces?”

  “Every last one of them.” Kent licked his thumb and counted the bills in his hand. “Found someone who made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

  Blackness closed Ty’s eyes, and he grabbed the edge of the desk to keep his balance. “That wasn’t our arrangement.”

  “The way you’ve been dragging your feet, I had to do something. You told me one month, and it’s been two already with no end in sight. What with you insisting I pay mega bucks for a climate-controlled environment, every month that passes cuts into my profits.”

  “I paid you plenty.” Everything Ty had saved plus a little bit more.

  Kent shook his head. “Never would have agreed if I’d known you would take so long about it.” He slapped Ty on the back.

  Ty fought the urge to punch him in the nose. “It was never about the money, you fool. You’ve ruined everything I set out to do.” As angry as a caged tiger, and feeling as deadly, Ty paced the room. He turned a murderous glance on Kent that had none of
the forgiveness Jesus preached. “I don’t want your money. And God help me if I ever see you again. You’d better pray to whatever god you believe in that never happens.” He clamped his jaw shut and walked out. He slammed the door behind him and fell behind the steering wheel of his car before he buried his head in his hands.

  ❧

  Michelle couldn’t stop talking about the success of the concert and didn’t seem to notice Sonia’s quiet demeanor. “People raved about the backdrops.”

  “That’s nice.” Sonia uttered a variation of the same response she had made to Michelle’s numerous observations and comments ever since they had arrived home. She wished her roommate had gone with her fiancé to celebrate, but they had decided to call it an early night because of church in the morning.

  “The worst is over.” The same Spirit that had urged Sonia to pray for Ty earlier in the evening spoke words of reassurance, and the heaviness in her heart lifted. With her first genuine smile of the night, she said, “I’m glad it went so well. I wish I could be here to see all the changes happen.” Although she hoped to return to her life in Denver, she had rarely invested so much of herself in something—in someone.

  “I know what you mean.” Michelle beamed. “When I think how close I came to turning up my nose at everything Ulysses—and Joe, mostly, of course—has to offer, why, I could die inside.” She sucked on a flexi-straw she put in her glass of tea. “Have you considered moving out here? We’d love to have you.”

  The possibility had crossed Sonia’s mind more than once. But she’d be an even bigger fool if she entertained thoughts of staying in the same town with one old boyfriend and one new, both of whom had hurt her in his own way. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Oh well.” Amusement glinted in Michelle’s green eyes. “No harm in asking.” She emptied the ice in her glass into the sink and threw away the straw. “I think I’ll take a shower and get to bed. Otherwise I’ll never wake up in the morning.”