"Bach at Dusk"

by Paloma

 

 

"One coffee,  lots of sugar"

 

"One yogurt shake with papaya"

 

Trees laden with white fireflies.....

a black wrought iron table for two

 

"Let's sit here"

 

"This is relaxin' "

 

"What a rough week"

 

Shadows crawl across the sienna tiled plaza...

The pink of dusk follows...

 

"Do you hear that?"

 

"What?  Music?"

 

Drifting like smoke over the plaza.....

 

The two men amble toward the concrete fountain

 

"Hey,  a band"

 

"Quartet,  buddy,  it's a quartet"

 

"Let's stay and listen"

 

 

Bows against strings,

nimble fingers racing along fingerboards

 

"This song reminds me of a chase...like that chase...remember?  down 8th and back up 10th?"

 

"It's not a song" a sigh in resignation "it's Bach...Brandenburg Concerto.  The theme is played

by one instrument and picked up by another."

 

"Yeah,  like a chase"

 

Another sigh

 

He had often been ribbed by others about Hutch's superior attitude toward him,  his sarcastic

remarks

 

"It's o.k.  Hutch just doesn't want me to be ignorant...that's just his way...and that's o.k.

by me"

 

Steadfast loyalty

 

Water at the base of the fountain, 

a chorus of singers

 

"This is great!...I never heard music like this before"

 

"There is so much wonderful music,  Starsk...I remember concerts by the lake....fireworks...the

glorious things that man can do"

 

"I feel like God is right here,  Hutch,  in this moment,  in this beautiful music...it feels

good...deep down good"

 

 

 

 

 

A breeze brushes his cheek.  Starsky  relaxes,  his eyes close..

he

           hears

                         the

                                        best

                                                     of

                                                                man

 

The blond man smiles,  a Mona Lisa smile....

 

***********************************************

 

At this hour.....his eyes open...

he

        sees

                        the

                                        worst

                                                        of

                                                                    man

 

A beloved friend....pierced by evil's rage....now limp as a string puppet on the blue

couch...his breath a slender thread between life and death....a bottomless ache in Hutch

 

If I could hold in my hands...that Friday...at dusk...the tiled plaza...Bach...if I could

inhale that Splendor,  Peace....  I am suffocating!.....God,  please rescue me!

 

He sees the soft, slumbering Starsky,  pill induced slumber....please rescue him!

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Hey,  buddy,  I have a present for you"

 

"Really?.....let me see"

 

"No,  just lay there.." fingers lightly close the dark eyes,  "hear the goodness and majesty of

man.."  Hutch caresses his friend's brow.... a leaned- in whisper.. "and feel God right here

with us"

 

"He will rescue us"

 

And the living room becomes fragrant with Bach

 

 

 

 

 

God gave us music that we might  pray without words

 

 

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