Alhamdulillah!

Chapter Two

A Nightmare

I

Hosea had awoken early in the morning when the sun was purple – before it birthed the candelabra ember that gave the day its preliminary dawn. He watched Salome sleep, transfixed with her beauty and the calmness of her body. His mind was too eager to sleep, it was rehearsing, and anxiously awaiting the progression of the day’s work. Hosea remained transfixed with her, giving his mind great ease until the orange sun turned yellow, slowly peeling open her bright green-blue eyes.

“Good morning,” he said calmly.

She cleaned out her eyes and smiled. “I had the most incredible dream last night,” she said, curling her arm underneath her neck and putting her body against his.

“What was it about?” he asked, gently kissing the brim of her forehead.

“I was incredibly rich, living in a two-story penthouse in a New York City high rise, and it was my engagement party. I was more excited about exploring the place than I was catering to the guests. One room, in particular, looked like a field and had a silver Mercedes-Benz parked on a dirt road. It looked like the room went on for infinity, but I knew it was only mirrors causing the illusion. Never got to explore any other room,” Salome described. She turned and stood from the bed. “Sad.”

She followed the trail of dried acrylic paint into the kitchen and asked him, “Coffee? Because if the answer is yes, then we are going to have to go to the café across the street,” she informed him. She came into his view, showing him an empty coffee tin.

Hosea stood from the bed and pick up his newly purchased island painting. “Sounds great,” he said.

Salome smiled and replied, “Wonderful! I could eat a whole pig and a carton of eggs.”

II

After breakfast, Hosea dropped Salome off at Samaria’s Icehouse by her black Indian motorcycle.

He drove back to the farmhouse, showered, and put on a royal blue suit. He only had a few hours before he was to meet Noah and Salome back at Samaria’s to practice for their radio performance. Hosea rubbed his eyes and gave a subtle moan, knowing the importance of today’s performance.

Everything had led up to this moment: all the exhaustive work laid before him by the scout and the vanguard. So many lives had been manipulated without their knowledge – so many details perfected. His radio performance was to be his last setup. Everything afterwards was to be yielded under Hosea’s power.

A wave of calmness rushed over him as he thought of Salome and a smile came across his bearded face.

He was ready to take over the world.

III

Salome, Hosea, and Noah held their instruments inside of the sound booth as Solomon, the radio personality, played a game with someone over the telephone, in hopes of them winning a keg of beer and concert tickets, in an adjacent room.

He seemed to be ecstatic by the answers the caller was giving, almost in complete contrast to the professional and humble reactions he gave to the three upon their arrival.

Solomon wore a nice grey suit, completely astute and one with his control board, always turning knobs, and working the levels.

Hosea placed his headphones over his ears as the three sat upon high stools, watching Solomon ecstatically congratulate the caller for winning through a thick window. Solomon held his index finger up in the air and flicked it, indicating a stream of pre-recorded commercials were now playing. Solomon stood, lit a cigarette with a match and waved it to kill the flame, then walked over to the door of the sound booth.

The smell of tobacco smoke filled the booth as Solomon walked inside. He stood tall, above Hosea, looking down at his guitar, then outreaching his hand. “You must be Hosea. The crew has spoken a lot about you and your song, I’m pretty eager to hear such a modern masterpiece,” Solomon spoke with genuine intent.

“Thank you, sir,” Hosea responded while shaking his hand. “This is Salome and Noah. Noah finished second last night and I felt it sacrilege to perform without him – as he felt to play without her.”

“Leave no good man behind, eh?” Solomon placed his hands upon his hips, flipping over the tails of his expensive grey suit. He smelled of musk and vanilla, with a hint of vodka coming from the slit grin of his thin lips.

“Yes, sir,” Hosea replied. He turned and looked at them.

Noah was considerably older than Hosea and Salome, his age only showing through his greying hair and thin skin from his hands. He sat on his stool, wearing a handsome suit, and holding a polished saxophone. He wore a wool fedora with a peacock’s tail feather and he anxiously looked at the clock, counting down the moments.

Salome wore a blue dress, with gold earrings, her long brown hair tied up, and held Etrog and Lulav in her slender arms. She was in contrast to Noah, in complete bliss and at peace with herself.

Hosea looked at them both with great pride. He had waited so long to meet them, to hear their voices and talents, and now, they were about to make history with a song conceived in a place completely inconceivable. A song dedicated to his grandmama – if only he had one.

Hosea had come so far, from all the obsessive hours he practiced before the elders and their critics. He was taken aback, hearing Salome and Noah add their talents to the song in the empty Icehouse, and tears fell from his eyes the first time they played the song perfectly. It had been a significant moment; one he would never forget.

After Solomon made sure that the three were comfortable, he took a puff from his cigarette and walked out of the sound booth. He put on his headphones as the final pre-recorded commercial played through and held his index finger in the air, indicating the end of the break.

A red light turned on in the sound booth and Solomon introduced them. “Ladies and gentlemen, as you may know, music starts from the bottom. It’s hated and rejected by everyone for being too dirty and raw. Then, after someone is willing to give such a dirty and raw mineral the attention it deserves and finds the value inside, everybody is ready to steal and prepare it for mass appeal – they cut it, fix it, clean it, and ship it. Once in a lifetime, someone comes with a diamond so pure and perfect, nobody could ever replicate it or compare. Listeners, tonight I have the privilege to introduce to you and broadcast to the world someone with such a definitive treasure,” Solomon spoke. He lifted his index finger in the air and pointed towards the three. “I give you, Hosea!”

IV

Samaria’s Icehouse had a line two blocks long when Hosea pulled the black van into a parking spot across the street. Solomon advertised he would be performing there around 10 p.m. and everyone waited to see the man that wrote the song for his grandmama.

Everyone expected the other, only the people who attended the contest knowing what he looked like.

“There he is!” a woman screamed as he walked into the bar.

Hosea’s eyes widened, seeing the hundreds of people applauding him as he came into their sight. A sea of people parted ways, making a perfect pathway to the stage.

Hosea took the guitar from his case and sat at the microphone. “Hi,” he said, making the crowd burst with laughter.

It was the third time performing the song in 24 hours, its magic over people growing ever more powerful.

He opened his eyes to the sea of people weeping. After a few seconds, the crowd applauded, making the building shake.

“Thank you,” Hosea said into the microphone, then made his way to the bar.

Salome was behind the counter, making seven different cocktails.

She saw Hosea and smiled. “You did great!” she commended. Then she turned back to her drinks.

“Where’s Noah?” Hosea asked as he leaned closer to her.

“The old man has to preach in the morning,” Salome replied as she passed the patrons their beverages.

Hosea gave a sharp laugh. “I didn’t know Noah was the pastor here.”

A fan, overhearing their conversation, cut in, “He’s also the mayor.”

“Does he sleep?” Hosea joked, causing multiple people to laugh around the bar.

After a few drinks, photos, handshakes, hugs, and goodbyes - when the tavern began to empty and the night was ending, Salome and Hosea talked beside each other.

“It’s beginning to feel like a déjà vu of last night, except it isn’t any thunder and lightning.”

“Did your brother really die in a hurricane?” Salome asked as she started to close down, remembering his earlier subtle remark and look on his face while saying it.

“A year ago, yes,” Hosea said softly.

Salome stopped cleaning and placed her hands on her washrag. “Do you mind telling me about it?”

Hosea bit on the inside of his cheek, a habitual thing he’d do whenever he was thinking about the subject. He finished his beer and lit a cigarette, then told her the story:

“He was my older brother; Isaiah was his name,” he began. The cherry from his cigarette illuminated his face as he inhaled then exhaled thick smoke. “Him and I were born on an island and if you don’t know much about that kind of lifestyle – there isn’t that much to do,” he smiled and continued. “So, we explored a lot. Pretty much the entire island over the years. We made hand-drawn maps of every area, with a detailed list of the birds, animals, waterfalls, plants…whatever we found. One day, last year, Isaiah woke me up early, telling me he had found a goldmine. And, you know how it is, that’s a dream come true! We put on our gear: headlight, boots, waterproof suits, and hiked to a cave inside of this forested area. We didn’t pay much attention to the clouds; we were so focused on getting to the gold mine. When the hurricane hit, we had already been in the cave for over an hour, lost in our own eagerness. I can only remember the sound of the wind and how violent it seemed. Rocks began to fall and eventually blocked our way to the entrance. We were completely stuck and shut inside. At first, we panicked. We were just teenagers; we didn’t even consider the possibility of being trapped inside of a gold mine. But once we calmed down, we began to make our way deeper into the cave, hoping to find an exit of some kind. We had no choice. I can’t tell you how long we were down there, a minute seemed like an hour. The sound of the cave shaking petrified us – we knew we were going to die. I had never seen Isaiah like that before. He was my older brother; he didn’t want to show any sign of panic or terror, but I could see it. So, we kept going. That was when we saw it, the golden tunnel. The ceiling, walls, floor…. was complete gold. Salome, I’m telling you, there is nothing like this in the world. Our headlights illuminated the entire tunnel. The gold glowed and shined so bright, it seemed like an invitation, so we indulged ourselves in the splendor until we were blinded by our own naivete. When daylight showcased the exit, Isaiah began to run. He didn’t see the water below. He fell about ten feet and the waves took him,” he recounted. Hosea crushed his cigarette into the black ashtray. “I never saw him again. It was as if he was completely erased from existence. I thought about jumping in myself but could never muster up the courage to do it. So, instead…I waited until the storm seized, cursed the gold, and pick-axed my way through the blocked entrance.”

A tear fell from Hosea’s eyes.

Salome came over and comforted him. “I’m happy you’re here,” she said and kissed his cheek. “Let me come over to your place, tonight.”

Hosea wrote the farmhouse’s address and home phone number on a piece of paper and gave it to Salome. She folded it in her pocket and told him she would be get some things from her apartment, then head to him.

Hosea drove home in the black van. He hadn’t expected to ever tell an outsider about Isaiah. No one was allowed to speak of him on Moriah, he was meant to disappear from everyone’s minds. But he felt a sense of security with Salome – as if he could trust her with anything.

He smiled as he awaited her arrival; everything was going so well.

He paced back and forth, looking at the clock slowly pass time.

Then the phone rang.

“Hello?” he answered.

“Hey, Hosea,” Salome spoke, “I need you to cease contact with me. Please, never call me or come back to Samaria’s. Thank you.”

“What?” he asked confused, only being answered by the cutting of the lines.

His heart shattered as he placed the headset back on the receiver with a shaky hand.

“What did I do wrong?” he asked himself a thousand times over and over.

He remembered the napkin and ran to his dirty pair of pants.

Hosea dialed the number and received no answer.

Salome was gone.