Disenchantment 46

*****

 

 

 

 

When I saw you, my heart just melted. I wasn’t sure if I would ever see you again. Then, there you were in front of me. It was pure torture when Hades wouldn’t let us speak. However, that wasn’t what hurt the most. While looking at you, you seemed indifferent. There was no recognition in your eyes, no longing for me, nothing at all to indicate that you were happy to see me. You did glance at me, but there wasn’t even any hint of recognition. You just looked at me with ice behind your eyes.

 

I have to admit that it felt great to play again. I did a couple shows to pay the bills while you were missing, but my heart wasn’t in it. I never jammed with the guys. I never practiced or composed anything. I only sought you. To let loose and play again was marvelous, and it made it all that much better to do it with Mark. He hadn’t played with me for years. All the emotions and remembrance of times long gone came flooding back, and it seemed fitting that if I had to play in Hell to the devil himself, Mark was with me.

 

I know that you are aware of all this. You were there, or I like to think that maybe you weren’t there mentally and that is why you showed no emotion, no love, but instead sat there with a blank look on your face. You were definitely there physically and it was hard to keep my eyes off of you.

 

Hades then stood up from his giant throne and applauded. The others around did as well. Some squealed and hissed. Others grunted and stomped. It all seemed to be the equivalent of appreciation for the show.

 

“That was wonderful, absolutely wonderful,” said the dark god. “We are not entertained like this very often. We have concerts, sure, but the dead don’t have the same talent that they once had in life. They grow stale and almost synthetic, pseudo artists, remnants of what was once great and living.”

 

“Can I talk to my wife now?” I asked. “I want to take her home with me.”

 

“I know what you want, and I have a deal for you.”

 

“What deal?”

 

“You brought others with you that have requests, their own foolish and wanton desires. Your request will be granted, but if you perform again, one mere song, I will grant two of them their requests as well.”

 

“Which two?”

 

“Your performance. Your choice.”

 

I looked at the three of them. Mark was farther away, but only smiled at me. Floyd seemed absolutely ecstatic. Hornblende made eye contact with me but didn’t indicate much, standing impassively. “No problem,” I said.

 

“Good, but there is a catch.”

 

“What catch? What do you want to hear? We can play more AC/DC, some more Guns n’ Roses, whatever you want in the rock genre. Right Mark?”

 

Mark nodded at me. “Sure.”

 

“Your friend will not be playing with you. This you have to do alone.”

“Okay.” I knew that I didn’t need Mark to do it, but I just felt better when he was playing with me. “That’s the catch?”

 

“No, that is a stipulation. We like AC/DC here. We like rock. However, we have the ability, or at least I do, to go up to the surface and see many concerts, many performances. It’s not as fun as down here, but I enjoy my little trips on occasion. I want something original from you, not a copy of someone else.”

 

“I don’t have anything original. I just sing in a cover band.”

 

“That is where the courage I mentioned earlier comes in. That is the courage you are lacking. You fear failure. You fear a loss of pride.”

 

“I don’t have any original songs.”

 

“We both know that is not the truth, don’t we? Ask your servant what happens to those who lie to the gods.” I assumed that he meant Floyd when he referred to a servant. I looked at him and he nodded.

 

“I’ve never performed them, just written them.”

 

“You’ve performed them in your mind. That is enough as down here your talent will provide the rest. I am eagerly looking forward to breaking your creative virginity.”

 

“Why?”

 

“We...my brothers and I, we pick favorites. It is a hobby of ours. Zeus does it most often, but Poseidon and I do it on occasion as well. We pick certain mortals and follow them throughout their lives, sometimes intervening and helping them to be the best that they possibly can. Those chosen by the gods can become great. I chose you for your latent talent. Consider this your intervention.

 

“I have been following you since the Fates cut your thread. I have also been following your Persephone, but for different reasons. It was amusing to see the two of you come together in marriage. I knew then that this day would come. You see, we are all of us connected, tied together with invisible thread.”

 

“I don’t know what to play. I have ideas of songs, but...”

 

“Now you lie to yourself, Oren Phileus. One ought never do that. Falsities to a god are one thing, but a soul who cannot be honest with himself? That is one who is truly lost. You have hundreds of songs, dozens of them are great. Choose one.”

 

“Which one?”

“Why don’t you play one for my queen?”

 

“Is she your queen or my Persephone? You seem to not know who she really is.”

 

“Is one contradictory to the other? Can she not be both? You will have answers, but first you play for me!”

 

“Okay,” I said. Then I did. The lyrics I had written a number of years ago, not realizing they were for you at the time. The tune was for another song. All in that moment they just seemed to come together perfectly. I started playing, in my mind of course, without my guitar. The music came out perfectly, haunting and melancholy, slow and melodious, sounding better than I ever could normally do the first time playing anything. My mind began working perfectly while imagining the notes, far beyond what my physical body could do on a first time. If you know a song perfectly in your head, then you can play it perfectly in your mind.

 

I started to sing, not in imitation of Brian Johnson or Bon Scott like I had done so many times before, but with my own voice, for the first time ever.

 

She dances when she’s shackled

She dances when she’s free

She dances to a very

Different drummer than me

 

She dances in the springtime

And in the autumn mist

She dances through the summer

And the darkest winter depths

 

She dances in the blackest nights

She dances in the sunshine

She dances through the dreary dreams

Of once upon a time

 

She dances through the pain

When she’s left behind

She dances through the chaos

And I just don’t know why

 

She dances in the abyss

And the steel cuts so hard

She dances when bloodied

Shredded, torn apart

 

It was a simple song in a way. My first time playing it, and although slow, it was only about two minutes. I didn’t include any instrumental solo parts and only played one guitar throughout. Given time, other things could be added to bloat it up, fatten it before unleashing it on the public, but I just did it in its simplest, purest form.

 

Persephone, I’m sorry. I could have been a better husband. Drinking too much. All those nights out so late. Flirting with all the other girls. In my defense, I did it to keep an audience, please the fans. I did it for work, not for you. I suppose that I took you for granted, assuming you would always be there, until you weren’t.

 

You know what happened next. I almost don’t want to talk about it.

 

After my song was done an eerie silence invaded the great hall. The song was unfamiliar to most, I suppose. I was wondering if it was unfamiliar to Hades as well, as he had basically forced me to do it. After a few second Mark began, clapping, then Floyd did as well. I noticed Hornbende didn’t. A few murmurs went through the undead and the deities of the place, but it certainly didn’t get the attention that the more familiar songs got.

 

Finally, Hades spoke: “I liked that. Do you see what you can accomplish doing your own music instead of imitating others? You can create many other songs for the world to hear, in addition to the ones you already have.”

 

“This kind of stuff isn’t so popular any more,” I said.

 

“Popular? Popular doesn’t mean good. Popular is usually the opposite of good. Allow all eternity to determine if what you create is good, not whimsical fools who flock toward material nonsense.”

 

“Can I talk to my wife now?”

 

“You can choose which two of your companions can make a request now.”

 

“I suppose Mark and—“

 

“Pick Hornblende,” Mark interrupted.

 

“Why?” I asked. I had every intention of picking Mark and Floyd. I don’t usually care for cops. Hornblende seemed okay, but I much preferred to pick Floyd Benson.

 

“There is a reason he is here,” said Mark.

 

“There’s a reason Floyd is here too, Mark. He’s been helping me plan this for weeks. He really wanted to come.”

 

“Yes, I really want this,” said Floyd. “I’ve been preparing my whole life for this. The cop just showed up today. Look Oren, you can keep the money you owe me, I’ll give you back all you paid me already. I’ll give you everything I own. I’ll make you a part of what I want to do, part of what I am going to wish for.”

 

Hades turned to Floyd. “Those chosen are allowed a request, not a wish. I can decline any request I choose for whatever reason I want. This isn’t some fairy tell with a genie and a lamp.”

 

“Please, Oren. Please pick me.” Floyd got down on his knees. I’m begging you, you have to pick me. Or if you want, pick Hornblende and me. Mark wants to stay down here anyway. Please pick me.”

 

“Mark Nicastro has already been spoken, so he has henceforth been chosen. You may pick only one more,” There was something stern in Hades’s voice as if he were speaking to an unruly child.

 

I looked at Hornblende who didn’t say a thing. At the time I really didn’t realize the importance of the decision I was making. I really didn’t understand what repercussions or benefits that I and others would endure with such a simple decision.

 

“Oren, you have to pick me,” begged Floyd again.

 

I looked at Mark. “Pick Hornblende,” he said.

 

“Mark and Hornblende,” I said. Mark looked relieved, yet I still didn’t comprehend what the big deal was. I had felt a much stronger obligation toward Floyd than I did Hornblende, yet Mark’s opinion definitely outweighed Floyd’s. It all goes back to who I trusted the most. Sure, Mark had let himself go some, but he had never in his life meant me any harm.

 

“No!” yelled Oren, seriously losing his composure. “How could you? I’ve been helping you for weeks. You know what this means to me! This has been what I’ve been building for since I learned to think.” He turned to Hades. “Please Lord Hades, I will sacrifice for you. I will worship you. I know you are real now and I will do whatever you wish. I am your humble servant. I have come here at great danger for a mortal, to see you, to worship you. I am yours and will do your bidding. Please grant me my request.”

 

“Silence,” was all Hades had to say to Floyd.

 

“My request is that I want my wife back.” I was so tired of all the drama, so close to getting you back.

 

“You know that she won’t be the same, don’t you?” Hades said. “She has tasted the nectar and ambrosia. She has lived as an immortal. She has had her desires quenched by a god and will never be satisfied with a mortal again.”

 

“I don’t care, I want her back.”

 

“I am aware of that. You have made your request. Unfortunately I am not able to grant your request.”

 

“Why?”

 

“The choice is not mine, but hers. You may put your request up for her to decide.”

 

Then you know I turned to look at you, finally allowed to speak to you. “Baby, you want to come back to me, right?”

 

“It’s not about what I want, Oren,” you said.

 

That hurt, baby. That hurt. “Please come back to me, baby. I can’t live without you.” Floyd’s turn was over and now I was doing the begging.

 

“We both know now it’s not about life, and existence goes so far beyond that. You can exist without me.”

 

“Baby...please.”

 

“Oren, I do miss you, or thought I did. It’s different once you’ve been here for a while, it changes you. I don’t think you can possibly compete with Hayden...uh, Hades. It’s not your fault Oren. You’re sweet, you try, but it’s just not enough. I have missed you like I might miss a pet, not a husband.”

 

“Perry, baby, I’ll try harder. What do you want me to do? I’ll do it. Anything, everything. I need you back."

 

“Make a decision,” said Hades.

 

Then you did.