
 |
 |
 |
. . . continued from previous page |
| . |
If there had been enough light to see, the others would have seen
Adam's fingers, lightly tapping his armrest, as if playing an invisible keyboard.
His heart was full, and it spilled into his fingertips, creating notes that were
only audible to him. As Adam mulled over the tune that was coming from his heart,
he wondered if this might be the birth of a new composition. After switching on a
small overhead light above his seat, Adam reached for his carryon bag, and procured
a composer's notebook of blank staff paper, that Bill had recently given him "in
case the Spirit moves you." All night, he worked at his notebook, pausing every
few moments to test the newest measure on his invisible piano. More than once, he
sighed with disappointment, as he struggled to bring the tune in his head, to life
in his notebook.
Adam hadn't composed in several years. But tonight, his soul was filled with notes
that he had never before played; the pianist yearned to complete the circle of creation,
by setting it down on paper. So engrossed was he, that he didn't notice the sun rising
in his window, nor the eager flashing eyes that were now watching him from her seat
just across from his.
Charlie tried to hide her excitement, but Wallace Shipley hadn't made a new album
since 1989. This was the first sign she had seen, since knowing him, of any attempt
to write more music. Since a young child, Charlie had always wondered how Wallace
Shipley worked at his craft, and now she was seeing it happen right in front of her!
When the jet landed at the Twin Yucca airport, Adam was too busy to notice anything
happening around him.
"What's going on?" asked Gary, getting up from his seat and looking over
Adam's shoulder at his musical annotations.
"He's writing music, again," beamed Charlie.
Upon hearing this, Bill joined the tiny crowd.
"Looks like he's done a lot of work," he observed, seeing the pages of
sheet music that Adam had torn out and set aside in his completed pile.
Suddenly realizing that everything was quiet, Adam looked up to see what was going
on. Everyone's eyes were upon him.
"What's going on?" he asked, puzzled by the expression on their faces.
"Why has the plane stopped? Are we in Twin Yucca?"
"I smell another album in the works," smiled Bill, hopefully.
"Don't get too excited, Bill," warned Adam, gathering the music sheets
and preparing to say good bye to his beloved. "I haven't done any serious composing
in a long time. Are you ready to go, Charlie?"
"Kevin has already taken our luggage to the car, so I guess I am," she
sighed.
Outside, the press was waiting for Charlie to disembark, and hopefully to get a statement
from her about Wallace Shipley, for the news had already circulated that he was only
here to drop her off.
Adam scooped Charlie into his arms once more to carry her outside and to the car.
"They're going to take pictures of us," warned the young woman.
"Let them," whispered Adam. "Next month, the tour will be over, and
I'll be coming home to you."
With Charlie hugging his neck, Adam carried her outside and placed her into the car.
After giving her hand a loving squeeze, he shut the door and watched as Kevin drove
the Overholts away. Cameras flashed, while reporters clamored for Wallace Shipley
to do or say something newsworthy. Melvin took the opportunity of promoting their
New York concert, as the musician got back into the jet.
"It won't be long," said Gary, as Adam took his seat. "This tour will
be over before you know it."
Adam smiled weakly, and pulled out his sheet music.
"Is it possible to get a piano in my hotel room?" he wondered.
As Kevin neared the Overholt house, they were greeted by a large throng of well-wishers,
spilling over the neighbor's lawns and coming towards them. There were some citizens
of Twin Yucca present, but the large majority were Wallace Shipley fans who had wanted
to come and wish her well. The crowd was so great, that Kevin, who was responsible
for Charlie's safety, was about to drive away. |
 |
continued on next page . . .
|
|
 |
 |
|