Singer Without a Song by Chris James    Singer Without a Song
by Chris James

Chapter Fifteen

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Singer Without a Song by Chris James
Drama
Sexual Situations
Rated Mature 18+

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"The latest signs of unrest in the country appeared in the suburbs of the Nation's Capital last night," the talking head began and John called Louie out of the kitchen to hear the news.

"The offices of the Silver Spring, Maryland, Selective Service Commission were raided overnight by what an unnamed federal source says were members of The Students for a Democratic Society. Our source, who chooses to remain anonymous, said that file cabinets were ripped open and blood was poured on the contents in an attempt to destroy the records of the local draft board.

"An FBI spokesman says that the SDS student group was probably involved because their protest activity has increased in the past several months. Montgomery County police and the FBI are working together on this case and are looking at the files of known SDS sympathizers that have been compiled in the past two years.

"Our cameras were not allowed inside the draft board offices this afternoon but we have spoken with several members of the Selective Services Commission, we go now to Joan Margolis in Silver Spring for a follow up on today's report ... "

"Oh shit ... he did it," John said. "I have something to tell you Louie and you're not going to like it."

"Oh crap, let me guess, Alan did this stunt?"

"It appears so and now the FBI will be on his case," John moaned.

"You knew about this and didn't tell me? Thanks a lot, kiddo."

"He didn't tell me either, Louie, I had to pry it out of him ... haven't you noticed that he's not around here anymore? He thinks I pushed him out, I'm sure of that much. He told me he was going to do something dramatic to the draft board. "

"Bloody files, that's pretty dramatic," Louie said. "Now we'll have the police at my door, maybe it's time you went home."

"But how will they catch on to Alan?"

"Honey, they have files on all of us, queer and straight alike. I remember that you boys wrote to all those subversive groups last year, they keep records of letters sent to organizations like that."

"Isn't that illegal?" John asked.

"Yeah, that's the FBI for you, just a bunch of federal lawyers with badges ... they do what they please and the hell with the rest of us. You know the rumors about J. Edgar don't you? Honey he's supposed to be a drag queen, that's enough to make me want to puke."

"So they'll get to Alan, I have to warn him."

"You mean you haven't seen him at all?"

"I don't know where he is. Louie, he's got to know he's in danger."

John called Brad, figuring that Terry had to be in on the plot.

"Oh yeah, I know where he is," Brad said. "They went to the beach. Said they were gonna camp out at Assateague Island. The creeps wouldn't take me with them either, I think Alan hates me, man ... what's up with that?"

"He doesn't hate you, Brad, he just doesn't know you like I do."

"Oh ... thanks, John, I love you too," Brad said before he hung up.

John told Louie they were down at Assateague, the little spit of land that was part of the coastal nature reserve. Without batting an eye Louie said to pack up, they were going to the beach first thing in the morning. It was one of the reasons John loved this man deeply.

A trip to the Atlantic seaboard was usually filled with excitement and anticipation, John only felt the latter as he chewed on a fingernail the whole way. The three and a half hour drive seemed to take forever this time around even though Louie pushed the speed limit.

The ranger at the gate couldn't find a Sommers listed in the campground directory. John suggested it might be in the name of Brown, and it was, they were at the far end of the island. Louie drove along the sandy road until they spotted Alan's car parked by a clump of scrubby pines. Terry was cooking hamburgers on a grill when they drove up and he yelled a greeting.

Alan's eyes showed surprise when he saw Louie's Mustang but they softened when John got out of the passenger's seat.

"Hello, Louie ... John," he said. "How did you find us?"

"Brad told us you were down here," Louie said," and I got worried about you after I saw the news last night."

It was just like Louie to state John's concerns and take them for his own, Alan would know what was up but Terry didn't have a clue.

"Are you hungry?" Terry asked. "We have plenty of food."

"That would be nice," Louie said, "let me help you."

It had been almost three weeks since John had spoken with Alan and now they were alone together.

"I guess you pulled it off," John said, "it's all over the television."

"Yeah, it was easy," Alan replied.

"Maybe too easy, the FBI will be after you, lover."

"And you worried about me ... thanks."

"Look, Louie says they probably have our names in a file from writing all those anti-war groups, it's only a matter of time before they start to ask questions," John said.

"We don't have to tell them anything, do we?"

"No, I don't suppose we do. Are you sure they won't find anything, you didn't leave anything behind did you?"

"No, we were careful, "Alan lied. His fingerprints were all over that window.

"I hope so ... I don't want anything to happen to you. Louie called Bill Devine, he's checking into things for us."

"I'm glad you came down," Alan said. "We need to talk about some things, just you and I. Can we take a walk?"

"Sure, I'd like that."

Leaving Louie and Terry to finish the cooking, they strode down towards the calm waters of the bay.

"What's been happening with you?" Alan asked.

"Not much, did Terry tell you that Brad came out to his mom?"

"Yes, he mentioned that, how did she take it?"

"Pretty good, I hear. Mom went with Brad to help him express his feelings and ended up recruiting Mrs. Brown for the youth group. Now that he's so involved down there Louie and I don't get to see him much anymore."

"So you're not hanging around with him? Terry seems to think that you guys are lovers or something."

"What?" John exclaimed, "Brad and I lovers? I'm sorry to disappoint you but that will never happen, he's too young and besides ... I thought we still had feelings for each other?"

"I knew there was something wrong with Terry's thinking, it didn't make sense.

I still love you, John. I'm just sorry I haven't been showing it lately."

"I know, you had to get this little demonstration out of your system. Now that it's over do you think we could get back together and talk it out?"

"I would like that very much," Alan replied.

"I love you, crazy man," John said," please, let's not do this to one another again, ok? We have too much invested in each other, it hurts us both."

"What are we gonna do if the FBI comes after me," Alan asked.

"Canada, man ... there's always a plan B," John said. "Can we stay with you guys tonight?"

"Sure, we'll give Louie and Terry the tent while you and I sleep on the beach. I want to wake up with you in my arms and the sun in my face."

"That sounds like a dream I had ... sure you want Louie and Terry together?"

"Why not? Don't you think Louie can take care of himself?" Alan replied.

"Uh oh, poor Louie," John said.

Louie was all smiles when they returned to the camp and John suspected that he'd already put Terry in his place. He had to give Alan some credit, the boy knew his friends better than he did. John announced their intentions to sleep on the beach. Terry looked disappointed but then perked up when Louie said he would be happy to share the tent, the boy never gave up.

That night on the beach was a rekindling of the relationship. It only succeeded because Alan managed to keep the pesky biting flies at bay. But he couldn't keep John off of him. They woke at dawn and sat facing the golden orb, praying the mantra of enlightenment.

John looked inside himself and found the peace he had been missing without Alan in his life. It was the nature of Buddhism to forgive transgressions if one has become enlightened from the experience. Now John could only pray that he would not get caught.

Terry drove home with Louie while Alan and John talked contingency plans in the car following them. It was decided that if the FBI became interested in him that he could split for New York and hide out with Namkhai at the monastery. Their combined power would keep the federal dogs off his scent for a long time. John would stay and face the music since at least he had an alibi.

It took the FBI a week to come up with Alan's name. They were over at Louie's when Alan's mother called in a panic. It seems two agents had arrived at the front door about an hour ago and began asking questions. They had a warrant to search the house and had found the remains of the manifesto. It was all standard propaganda stuff, nothing incriminating, but they seized it anyway before they left.

His mother wanted Alan home right away ... but she hadn't told the FBI where they might find him.

"Shit, they'll be here next," John said.

"No doubt," Louie said," do you have plans, Alan?"

"Yes ... and I'm outta here guys. Sorry for the mess, Louie."

"Running away will make you look guilty as hell," Louie said.

"I am guilty as hell, they just can't prove it. This is just a rousting out of all the usual suspects to see who will talk. Only Terry and I know what happened and John will take care of him ... unless you'd rather have that chore, Louie?"

"Not on your life, he's too hot for me to handle. Oh God, that didn't come out right, did it?" Louie chuckled. "Ok, I'll give it a try."

"Good man, I'll bet he looks cute in a dress," John said.

"Do ya think?" Louie asked. "Hmm, he is eighteen, right?"

"He sure has the figure for it," Alan said. Eyebrows went up at that and Louie broke out laughing.

"Now boys, no cat fights in my house, you have to run away ... and I mean now."

John drove Alan to the bus terminal, but not in DC or Silver Spring. They thought that would be too obvious so John made the forty-mile trek to Baltimore.

"Are you sure you'll be alright?" Alan asked.

"Yeah, Louie and I will pull this off, we don't know the details anyway. But I want you to tell Namkhai everything about what happened. He has to know in order to protect you. The repercussions from this are dangerous for us both, Alan. You could go to jail for a long time and I ... well, I'd be there for you."

"Thanks a lot," Alan laughed," it won't come to that, I won't let it."

"There are some things you can't make happen," John reminded him.

Alan stared out the windshield at the dusty Baltimore street where they'd parked.

He thought about his fingerprints on the glass, had the cops found them yet? He would have to know before he could come back ... right now he just needed to escape.

"I love you, John. I may not always have shown you the respect that phrase engenders but I will pray to be forgiven my transgressions. I'm off, wish me luck?"

"With you I often wonder if luck has anything to do with it," John replied. "Be at peace, my love ... stay in touch."

They kissed one last time and Alan was out the door. He had the clothes on his back and five hundred dollars cash, the escape fund. The bus out of New York left at seven in the morning, Alan would have a long night on a hard bench at the bus station to think about what he had to do. John sat on the street and watched for the bus to leave the rear of the station. Alan was gone ... again, and the sadness engulfed him.

Losing his boyfriend once again, he was beginning to wonder if this was going to become a trend. What foolish thoughts for a guy that was supposed to be so well grounded in the spiritual world. This had all happened so fast, what else could he have done?

But Namkhai would set Alan straight John had no doubts about that. The good monks would go over it with him once more until he understood. "Love hopes where reason would despair," John thought as he started up the car, it was in Alan's hands now.

Sure enough, the FBI had come looking for Alan at Louie's house as well. Unfortunately, John walked in while they were still there.

"John, these are Agent Saunders and Wells with the FBI. They're looking for Alan ... " Louie began.

"We'll take it from there, if you don't mind?" Agent Wells said.

"Mr. Bateman, your name is associated with Alan Sommers in our files," Agent Saunders said.

"Ok, sure. We go to school together, I'm on the wrestling team with him, we ran the Current Events Club together ... he's my best friend."

"He also is suspected of breaking into the Silver Spring office of the Selective Service," Agent Wells added. "Did you write letters to the American Nazi Party and the SDS as well?"

"I'm sure you guys have copies of the letters ... look, my philosophy about the war in Vietnam and yours may be different but I'm against all forms of violence. That includes breaking and entering. As for the Nazi's and the SDS, sure, we wrote them. The school board would not provide us with materials for our classes or the club on subversive activities. Maybe they were afraid we might learn something, anyway, we wrote the letters as part of a class project."

"Your class with Steven Bell." Agent Saunders said. "I suppose you know him pretty well, him being a homosexual like you."

"Is that supposed to shock me, Mr. Saunders?" John asked and then a familiar voice interrupted.

"Go ahead and badger the kid, it will make his case against you even stronger," Bill said.

"I've asked my attorney to be present if you gentlemen don't mind, that's him," Louie said and gave John a covert wink.

Bill Devine barreled into the room and plopped down on one end of the couch as if he owned the place.

"Afternoon gents, "Bill boomed out in his rich baritone, "is this an official call or are you just out fishing for crime and harassing the citizens?"

"No, Mr. Devine, we were just asking the boy a few questions," Wells said. The agents didn't look happy, they knew this man's reputation. Devine could be a dangerous man in certain political circles in Washington.

"The agents were just wondering if you had sexual relations with one of your teachers at school, someone you didn't even know was gay," Bill volunteered. "Oh that's a bad road to travel ... tsk, tsk, gentlemen. You know I was playing golf with one of your superiors just last week ... " The story was nothing but a ramble about rubbing elbows with the powers that be over these agent's heads. Bill had stalled the interrogation completely and John watched as the agents fidgeted, hopelessly looking for a quick way out.

Bill's monologue lasted for fifteen minutes and no one dared interrupt him, John was in awe of the performance.

"Well, I'm sure you boys have to get back on the case," Bill finally concluded.

"My clients would be glad to come down to your office and make further statements as necessary. No sense bothering decent folks at home, better to keep it businesslike, don't you agree?"

"Yes sir, we do," Agent Wells said. "We'll call if we need anything further. Thanks for your cooperation."

Louie escorted the two men out the door and collapsed in a heap on the hallway floor. Bill started laughing.

"Did you see the way they squirmed?" He chuckled," They had no right to question you without an attorney present."

"They seem to know an awful lot about me," John said.

"They probably know entirely too much about everything, the snoopy bastards. We've known for a long time that they keep files on gays and radicals. Afraid we're all on the same list. Sorry you had to go through this, John. I suppose Alan is conveniently out of town?"

"Yes, and he might be gone for some time," Louie said, pulling himself up off the floor. "I think he needs to get his shit together, this radical stuff is making a nervous wreck out of me."

"I didn't know you were an attorney, Bill," John said.

"Oh honey, I've got everything except a plumber's license. See, that's what happens when you spend half your life in academic circles chasing after cute boys. I want to talk with a few people this afternoon, why don't you boys come over for supper tonight and we'll finish this discussion?"

Bill heaved his considerable weight up off the couch and gave them both a hug before leaving. His chauffeur was outside, waiting beside the car. Bill stopped before getting in and turned to John.

"Maybe you'd like to come stay at my place for a while, I don't think they'd have the balls to bother you there," he suggested.

"Yeah, I'd like that," John replied.

"Good, see you both later," Bill said and dropped his large body through the rear door with a heavy grace.

As the car sped off, Louie turned to John. "You watch out for that man," he warned," he plays games on too many levels at one time."

"I know that, he's always wanted to get in my pants. I'm flattered actually, but it will never happen and he knows that," John said.

"Good, just keep an eye on him," Louie said.

"And who's gonna be watching you, Louie?"

"That big cowboy I met at the Lone Star last week ... I hope."

"Alan won't know how to find me," John said and the sadness of it all washed over him. Louie but his arm on John's shoulder and gave a squeeze.

"He's lucky to have you, John, don't worry. I'll let him know where you are if he calls."

"In that case be careful, the FBI might be listening," John said.

"Really? Do you think ... ?"

Bill didn't waste any time finding out what the FBI had against Alan in the case. The facts were pretty straightforward. Alan's fingerprints were on the window glass in the bathroom. Bill asked how they obtained Alan's fingerprints for comparison?

They had obtained the prints from Alan's house. His mother had given them a picture of the boy holding up one of his swimming trophies. The prints were lifted off the back of the picture; it had been made easy for them.

The clerk at Selective Services remembered Alan from the day he visited the office and conveniently remembered that the boy had asked to use the bathroom. Bill visited the office and made the same request. He stood and looked at the window above the toilet. Then he started to laugh.

The judge withdrew the warrant the next day. The FBI had no real case against Alan. At least they had no tangible evidence to change the judge's mind.

"Judge Roberts told Agent Wells to go ahead and present what he had to a Grand Jury. But then mentioned that they would only get one shot at Alan on this charge and they didn't seem to have what they needed."

Bill was explaining to Louie and John what had transpired in the judge's chambers as the three of them sat with cocktails on the screened porch of the pool house.

"But what stopped the investigation?" Louie asked.

"I took a leak," Bill said. He smiled. "I went in that bathroom and leaned on the window while I peed. Alan had the opportunity to do the very same thing. We're about the same height. The clerk remembered him using the bathroom too. Judge Roberts knew they didn't have a case."

"Oh Bill, that was brilliant," John said.

"I suppose, it's nothing but a hat trick. But I want you to know that the FBI will not cease watching Alan, or you for that matter. Can't blame them, he's lost his mind pulling a stunt like that."

"I know, "John said." Can he come home now?"

"Probably, but they will still bring him in for questioning, they have the right. They will say he isn't a suspect. Just that they want to ask him questions about people he associates with in the SDS."

"That's funny," John said. "Despite all he's done, Alan doesn't have any association with the SDS. They don't know who he is and that's why I think he pulled this stunt. But Terry Brown might know someone, he's implied as much."

"Seems they don't know anything about this other boy Terry," Bill said.

"Another waste of the taxpayer's money," Louie said," and that's my money."

"Listen to him will you?" Bill laughed. "Louie you have a small fortune in the bank, don't deny it."

"I do not, what gave you that idea?"

"Well unless you've spent the entire trust I gave you there should be a tidy sum sitting in an account with your name on it."

"There is not, the IRS would strip me bare," Louie said. "I do have a small retirement account offshore, but there is really nothing in it."

Bill broke out in peals of laughter. "So you did listen to me when I told you to move it. Good man, Louie."

"I deny everything," Louie giggled.

John just sat there shaking his head. What did he know about money at that end of the high finance game.

"So John," Bill said. "Since we're speaking of money I have a surprise for you, and Alan when he gets back to us. I've written another book which is due out next month."

"Congratulations," John said," I hope it's a big success."

"As well you should," Bill said with a smile. "It's about these two boys that meet and fall in love. Sound familiar?"

"You mean I'm in it?"

"Yes. I was seriously touched by what I've seen and heard over the years regarding boys just like you. Oh, I know I have a reputation as a seducer of young men but I assure you they have all been perfectly legal. Just seeing Alan fall in love with you inspired me to write everything down."

"Why, thank you. I'm sure it will mean a lot to Alan too."

"I hope so. You see I've dedicated the book to you two and all the royalties will go into a trust for your future."

John was stunned. He didn't know what to say. Bill just looked at him kindly, appreciating the moment and the fact that he could afford to be so generous. He frowned when John began to cry.

"Oh John, now what?" Louie asked.

Bill went over to the couch where John was sitting and lifted the boy to his feet. John sobbed as the large man's arms hugged him close.

"He is heartbroken, can't you see that?" Bill said. "Alan has acted the fool and left John here to face the music."

John continued to cry but he nodded his head in agreement.

"Do we know where the idiot is at this moment?" Bill asked. John kept on nodding his head. "Then you had better go fetch him," Bill said," he needs a spanking."

John stopped crying and started to laugh. Louie caught the humor and soon all three were laughing.

"I'm serious," Bill said. "You go get him first thing tomorrow morning and I'll pick out my widest leather belt when he gets back."

"I'll get my camera," Louie said.

The trip through the mountains of New York was entirely different for John this time. It wasn't just the deep green summer foliage or the fact that this time he was traveling in a chauffeured car. The last time it was because he brought Alan to the monastery and fell in love. This time he was there to reclaim that love and bring it home to stay.

They had decided it was best if John just arrived unannounced. No sense in giving the other side a jump on Alan's whereabouts or the secrets of the temple. John was sure that between them, Namkhai and Alan could hold off a small army of FBI agents but there was no need to put that to the test.

Alan would be pleased that the case had been dropped and that he could return home and start school in the fall. The man Bill had chosen to drive was silent most of the trip. Frank had asked only for directions as they came closer to their objective.

"But I can make the trip alone," John had protested.

"I'm sure you can," Bill had agreed. "But you have a lot on your mind, the roads are dangerous up there in the mountains and I want Frank there to protect you."

There was no arguing with Bill. Frank had proved to be a quiet man, although with his formidable stature and shaved head he looked like a Buddhist monk with attitude. Bill was right, John felt safer this way. Nobody was going to mess with Frank.

After ten hours in the car, John was looking anxiously for the turn in the road that would reveal the tall wooden gates of the monastery. Everything looked so different, he was concerned that maybe they had passed the spot when finally they appeared.

Frank was going to drop him off and come back the following morning. He would be waiting outside the gates to drive them back to Bill's place. John wasn't exactly sure what to say to the man as he got out in front of the gates.

"Thank you, Frank. You have a place to stay tonight?"

"Yeah. Bill booked me into a quaint little place about twenty miles from here. I understand it's a quite a popular gay resort so I won't be lonely. Have fun, kid, I'll see you in the morning." John had figured Frank was gay, now he was sure. There was room for all kinds of people in the community.

The small doorway opened silently and John made his offering to the figure in the small wooden enclosure beside the gate posts. The path could now be seen as a rutted narrow roadway that lead into the property towards the monastery walls. John hefted his bag and started walking.

It was maybe ten minutes later when he felt a presence. Looking ahead he saw Namkhai waiting for him in the road.

"Greetings, Lama Namkhai," John said.

"Master John, it is good to see you once more." Namkhai smiled and answered John's next question. "Master Alan said you would be coming here today."

"I can't fool him, can I? But I came because the news is good. He can come home."

"If he wishes?" Namkhai asked.

"You mean he doesn't want to?"

"Let us walk and speak of things," Namkhai said.

They walked for several minutes before the monk pointed at a bench beside the road. They took a seat and faced each other.

"Master Alan feels he has done something wrong and seeks forgiveness," Namkhai said.

"But the FBI has dropped ... " John began but Namkhai held up his hand.

"It is you he has wronged."

"Me? Whatever has he done?"

"He will tell you himself. But I needed you to understand that he feels his moment of shame involved the use of his mind and the power within. Master Alan was sure that his thoughts had created the situation and he came to me with that question and a good deal of anguish."

"I don't understand," John said.

"You are his partner in the use of the Inner Eye. He draws great strength from you. But in the moment of shame he says he did not seek your council and that broke the bond between the two of you."

"I am at a loss in this conversation," John said.

"Master Alan will tell you but I must council your reaction. If you break the bond between you then we shall lose control over his powers. I understand that love is often a fragile commitment but I came seeking assurances from you that this is not so."

John stared at the ground. What had Alan done? There could be only one thing that Namkhai meant and that was ... oh,no. It could only be Terry.

"I must speak with him," John said.

"He is waiting for you ," Namkhai said.

John stood up and then looked down into the eyes of the monk he most respected.

"I know you are only trying to be my friend, Master. My feelings for Alan are always strongest when we face one another. But it is his actions that dictate the future of those feelings. Now that I understand myself I am better able to do what is right for me. Alan is not the most perfect of beings and I understand that about him. I would be a poor student of The Path if I did not seek to understand what he has done."

John smiled even though he didn't feel like it and Namkhai stood.

"He came to us in tears," Namkhai said. "Let us hope it will not be so when he leaves."

After a short walk through the forest the wall arose before them and they crawled through the tiny monk's door.

"I will leave you here," Namkhai said. "You will know where to find him."

John looked up the long staircase towards the room they had first shared. Yes, he would be there. The climb seemed longer than he remembered but he finally arrived before the door and pushed it open. Alan was sitting on the straw mattress, a book of Buddhist wisdom in his hands.

"You gave me this book for Christmas," Alan said, not even looking up.

"And I still wear the dog tags you gave me," John replied. "Have we regressed to that moment?"

"If only it were that easy," Alan said, looking up and making eye contact. "I failed you, John. I cheated."

"You had sex with Terry, I guess," John replied.

"You know ... ?"

"I know nothing of the sort. I figured he was just about the only other person capable of getting that close to you."

"We did the draft board and it happened that night. I wanted to believe that I willed him to do it but Namkhai says I didn't. I saw his thoughts all twisted up inside his head. What he did means nothing to me, John."

"Does that mean that you didn't want him to do ... to do whatever it was? Would you have told me about it if we'd had the chance to go over what happened?"

"Yes, I would have, I couldn't have lived with the shame. He blew me and that's all. I gave him shit for it afterwards," Alan said.

"Because you felt guilty?"

"Because I love you and I must have been out of my head."

"You lost it when you broke into that building. You took Terry along simply because he was willing to do anything you asked of him."

"Yes ... yes, you're right."

"And so the dog got his bone as a reward?"

"No. It wasn't like that, John. He just went for it and I let him, I wasn't thinking clearly. The break in was such a high. It was like some kind of madness overcame me afterwards. I didn't do it to hurt you."

"But it does hurt, and what can we do about it?"

"Why do you think I'm here?" Alan asked. "I sat in the temple this morning and prayed for an answer. I had no reason to cheat. You have never done anything to make me feel bad about our relationship. I was just stupid and thoughtless. I should be on my knees begging forgiveness."

"I don't want to see that," John said.

"I know. And it hurts worse because you came here with an open heart to take me home." Tears had formed in Alan's eyes.

"I am trying to be at peace with this, Alan. All things happen for a reason, the Wheel of Life dictates that. You and I have made plans together and I don't want that to stop. College is a month away, we have to be there. Our lives depend upon that deferment. Do you think the government will just forget us now? Bill doesn't think so. Without college we'll be in the Army so fast ... I don't want to think about it. Come home with me, Alan. Let's find a way to put this all behind us."

"I want that too," Alan said.

He was crying in earnest now and John couldn't resist hugging him. They would go home and there would be time to heal the wounds. Adversity had again reared its ugly head in their relationship and they had won. And probably for the first time he wondered, how long would they keep on winning?

They sat at the dinner table with Josh and a dozen monks that knew them from the rally in Washington. The innocence of these men brought them back to a simpler time, a time where the complexities of the world were left outside the walls and goodwill prevailed.

The monastery was a place with a mission that John felt drawn towards. Had he never met Alan the calling would have been strong enough to bring him here. Donning the orange robe to teach and heal the world. There was no nobler cause he could name.

But it was when the boys sought the sanctuary of Deeban's aviary that John finally found peace in his mind. The elder monk had been ill and still coughed from his congestion, but his smile was genuine.

"Master John, it speaks well that you have returned to us," the old man said.

"My heart could not find peace until I saw the smile on your face, Master," John said, bowing before the monk.

"He flatters an old man," Deeban cackled.

They sat on the floor cushions and watched the birds settling in for the night. Again John saw that the windows were open but the birds showed no inclination to escape. What hold did this man have over them? Or me for that matter, he thought?

"You both have done well together," Deeban said. Was it a question or a statement, John wondered.

"We have seen great joy and occasional sorrow, "Alan replied.

I see your mind has great conflict, my student," Deeban said to Alan. Then he turned to John and smiled. The words and the smile came together in his mind and John felt stunned. This man, this monk, he was the source of all power. It took John's breath away. How had he missed this before?

"You were never supposed to know," Alan said and John realized these two could read him like a book.

"But why tell me now?" John whispered.

"Deeban is an old man, his health is failing," Alan said, but John knew the words were coming from the monk himself. "He will transcend this existence and another will take his place. Deeban asks that you contemplate life upon his death and work with his successor. The power of the Nine will shift into the hands of Namkhai, John."

John smiled. "A worthy successor. I will listen to his words as if they were yours, Master. But do not leave us so soon for I have much to learn from you and the birds need your gentle touch."

Deeban smiled. "Ah, the birds, I will miss them most. But let us not dwell upon my leaving. I will be here tomorrow, and the day after that, who knows?"

They talked into the evening, only pausing when the temple bell sounded the evening call to the temple. Deeban did not wish to risk the stairs and so Alan and John sat with him, joining the chant from the temple below.

Sitting between such men of power, John could feel the chant move him deeply. With his eyes closed he saw amazing things in his mind, the ebb and flow of light so real and yet not of this world at all. He found it easy to visualize the Nine as balls of light throbbing with the chant of the earthbound monks. Contact with the spiritual plane had never seemed so real, the effect so breathtaking.

The silence afterwards was in itself a healing moment broken only by the squeaks and quiet chatter of the birds.

"John, are you here with us?" Alan asked.

"I saw ... "

"We know, you were meant to see."

"It may give you comfort to know the place of my existence when I leave here," Deeban said.

"That was very kind and I am humbled by your generosity," John said.

"And so an old man needs his rest," Deeban said while stifling a yawn. "Be gentle to one another my young friends. Life is suffered enough as the body decays. Give peace to one another and know that I am enriched a hundred times for having been in your presence this evening."

The boys bowed as Deeban shifted his robes and rose gracefully from the cushion. He smiled as he walked slowly into his back room. John looked around at the cages and sighed. He would miss this place a great deal. Alan rose and pulled John to his feet.

"Shall we go?"

"In my heart I will never leave this room," John said.

"Yes," Alan replied," I understand the feeling. But we had better get some sleep, don't you think?"

"Yeah, I remember the temple bell rings early."

They went back to their tiny room and lay on the mattress. It was cool in the night up here in the mountains but it felt good. Both of them were lost in thought for a while until Alan spoke what was on his mind.

"I want us to take a trip together in a few weeks," he said.

"Ok, where?"

"A few of the monks have been talking about going to Chicago to continue the anti-war message at the Democratic Convention. I think we should be there."

"A non-violent demonstration?" John asked. "I sure hope so. We've seen enough of the other kind."

"There will be a lot of people there, John, and some of them you won't like."

"You mean the SDS?"

"Yes. I was hoping you would come so we could focus on the protest in a Buddhist way. I've learned my lesson on the SDS."

"You know I have to ask, Alan. Is Terry going?"

"I don't know, but if he does then he'll be with the other guys, not with us. Make you happy?"

"Chicago is a nice town I hear," John said.

"It will be a lot better when we get there," Alan said. "We should sleep, don't you think? We can talk about this again tomorrow."

"Yeah, you're right, good night."

"Good night."

"I want to talk to my father when we get home," John said.

"You do? What brought that up?"

"Chicago. I want to go there with a clear conscience, that's all," John said.

"Ok, we'll talk about that too, good night."

"Good night."

It was several minutes before John heard Alan's gentle snores. Chicago. There was something about that name that worried him. At least in his sleep Alan wouldn't be able to read his fears. There is nothing bad in Chicago, John thought, but he just couldn't think of why it bothered him.


On to Chapter Sixteen

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"Singer Without a Song" Copyright © 2005-2006 by Chris James. All rights reserved.
    This work may not be duplicated in any form (physical, electronic, audio, or otherwise) without the author's written permission. All applicable copyright laws apply. All individuals depicted are fictional with any resemblance to real persons being purely coincidental.


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