Because the sky is blue, it makes me cry
Because the sky is blue...aaaaaaahhhh

New Life Fellowship, East Syracuse, New York, 2008

Evan Thomassino stood on the church platform, fiddling nervously with the bass in his hands; not any old bass, but a vintage ’78 fretless Antigua that his father had played in a rock band. Fretless; an irony that wasn't lost on the boy. He brushed his longish hair out of his eyes; the length owing to being too sick until recently for anyone in his family to care.

“Say hey, Evan,” Tony said from behind the piano. He stood up and walked over to the boy and hugged him.

“Hey, Pastor Tony,” the boy smiled patted the man on the back. Tony Renatto was barely out of his early twenties himself, only a recent graduate of Bible school but already a member of the church staff as the Worship Leader and as an associate to his father Tony Sr., the head pastor.

“No need to add that pastor tag, Ev…we’re all members of God’s family here.” He patted Evan on the back and looked him up and down.

“That's one mean bass. You’ll be playing with the regular team any time now, if you keep this up.

“I’m practicing every day…I even managed that chord progression you gave me for ‘Our Lord is a Great God,’ that you guys played last Sunday." The boy appeared confident enough, but underneath the surface he was all nerves and worry. Tony seemed to pick up on that.

“Relax. It’ll be fine. Maybe you can hang around after practice on Thursday and we can go over some songs. We’re going to feature the teen band sometime in the next couple of months, but Jason is going on a short term trip to Belize in June, and Kenny isn’t available the last week, so maybe you can jump in?” The boy shrugged his shoulders and while his face didn’t redden much, his cheeks remained hot from embarrassment. He sighed as Tony patted him on the back once again before walking away.

Because the world is round it turns me on
Because the world is round...aaaaaahhhhhh

The following morning, the Thomassino home...

“Honey, did you remember to take your meds?” Marlene called to her son from the kitchen evoking a deep sigh.

“Yes, Mom.”

“’Cause you remember what the doctor said about building up, honey. You’ve hardly gained any weight.”

“I know, Mom.” The boy’s voice was almost droned in a lament.

“And yes, I took my vitamins, too,” he said in almost a sing-song.

“Well, okay, honey. You know how much weight you lost, and I’m just worried, okay?”

“I know, Mom. I’m okay, really!”

Evan said it almost as much for his own benefit as for his mother’s. She was many things to him; nurse, mother, father in a way, friend, protector. And while she may have doted over him a bit, as a single parent with a fragile son, she had reason to throw in a few extra hugs and maybe a kiss on the forehead to check his temp from time to time. He looked in the mirror and sighed heavily; the image looked weak; embarrassingly weak, which would have been bad enough but for the confusion that reigned in his heart.

Music Practice at the church...

“Hey, Evan…you still want to go over some songs?” Tony asked as he closed the piano lid. The boy half-nodded nervously before backing up against the drum set on stage; knocking the high-hat over. He was a tiny bit pleased but filled mostly with fear and not just a little bit of shame. Tony smiled and stepped past him to pick up the cymbal, brushing against the boy. Evan shivered.

“We can go out for coffee?” Tony smiled again and the boy nodded. Every dream and every nightmare he had ever lived through might have come together in that moment as he walked down the steps of the stage, following his hero, his mentor, and sadly for him…the unattainable first crush he ever had. But Tony’s wife rescued the boy by getting her husband’s attention with a loud, “Tony, hon,” and a wave.

“Oh…jeez… we have a family dinner I forgot about. We’ll have to make it another time…you understand, right?”

“Oh, yeah sure, Pastor Tony. Okay. Maybe next week.” The boy wasn’t even finished sighing and already was standing alone at the foot of the stage stairs.

Saturday at home...

“Evan? I’ve got to go out for a bit, okay? Dotty Trejillo asked me to check in on her mother while she’s out of town.” Checking in on the old woman meant helping with the housework and preparing a meal; both of which would take several hours.

“Okay, Mom,” the boy called from his bedroom, and was answered by the sound of the front door closing. He sighed deeply; an afternoon alone promised to be filled with both pleasure and pain....

The girl stood with her arms folded around herself, almost in comfort to quell the anxiety she felt. She wore a black macrame' vest over a purple and green striped mini dress and black tights. She wore flats, owing to a problem with balance after a recent illness. She swayed back and forth, almost like she was trying out her 'coquette' persona. The handsome man in front of her smiled and his eyes sparkled.

“I’ve loved you ever since we met, Pastor Tony. I believe God brought us together.” It was an almost spiritual moment that quickly went south as the boy lay back on his bed and imagined the strong arms holding him and the soft manly lips kissing his own as he felt the man of God enter him.

The boy knelt by his bed, clad in his own armless undershirt and a pair of Syracuse sweat pants. He clasped his hands together and put his head down on the bed.

“Dear Jesus. I don’t want to be this way. I hate myself.” No more confession needed to be said; he began to sob and his shoulders shook from weeping; a nightly affair that was kept secret only because his mother was on her third cochlear implant and couldn’t hear his crying if both their doors were closed; especially when he covered his face with his pillow.

Love is old love is new

Music practice the following week...

“Hey, Evan? Would you like to sing a duet with me?” He turned to face Caryn Davis, the keyboard player from the teen worship team. Caryn was a very sweet girl, and she seemed to go out of her way to encourage Evan. He shrugged his shoulders; a practice that occurred with more frequency from his feeling unworthy rather than what everyone seemed to accept as being indifferent. Caryn still persisted, trying very hard to break through the boy’s insecurity.

“I’ll even let you do the melody if you like?” She smiled but he shook his head. Musically, he had as good an ear as anyone in church; teen or adult. And even though he was in remission, the illness had literally taken its toll on his development, and he was just as likely to hit a perfect A above middle C as crack from the late change in his voice. He shook his head and she would have given up but for the resolve she felt.

“Okay, how about you play your flute and I’ll do my oboe and we can play an instrumental piece?” The boy’s nod wasn’t enthusiastic but still managed to convey that he actually felt good about her proposal. Caryn nearly jumped in front of him, hugging the boy. Funny how life works? A few moments later Tony waved to get his attention. Caryn squeezed his hand and waved gingerly before walking away; his eyes following her departure even as his heart ached over the conflict and confusion he felt.

“Let’s go ahead and go over those songs after practice. I don’t have anything I have to get back to tonight, and we can take an hour or so.” Tony smiled at the boy. Something in him wanted to back out of it; he would recall later that he could never even say with certainty that it wasn’t someone rather than something that seemed to speak to him. Either way, he pushed aside any misgivings to spend time with his hero.

Eyes shut tightly and fists clenched as the girl felt him enter her; she could feel the tears roll past her eyelids and down the side of her face. She bit her tongue; more in order to staunch the bile rising in her throat, but still needing to be as quiet as possible. She had asked for it, after all, and his strong arms enfolded her; more to keep her from moving than any expression of affection.

“I know you’ll do fine on Sunday,” Tony said as he removed a folder of music from his briefcase and placed it in the boy’s hands. He patted the boy on the back before stepping into the hallway from his office. The boy sat on the large green vinyl couch; almost motionless but for the quiver in his chin. Tony paused before saying finally,

“You going to be okay?” The voice seemed almost paternal and filled with concern but for the nervous look on his own face. Evan looked up and smiled awkwardly and nodded without a sound.

“Good. You’re a great kid! Don’t you forget it! You want a ride home?”

A while later...

“How was music practice, honey?” Marlene looked up from a novel she was reading and smiled.

“Oh…great,” he said with little emotion. He turned to walk away before stopping at the hallway arch. He turned and faced her and smiled.

“Guess what? Pastor Tony says I’ll be playing bass this Sunday. Pretty cool, huh?” He smiled weakly before turning once again and walking slowly to his room.

The girl lay on her bed, facing the ceiling. She wore a long cotton lined soft green satin nightgown and still had her bunny slippers on her feet; the whole night seemed to be placed firmly and heavily on her chest.

On almost any other night, her prayers might have been accompanied by a germ of faith; mustard seed in fact, and while insufficient to move mountains, it nevertheless usually served to at least remove almost all of her guilt. She faced the ceiling and tried to distract herself by singing softly, but soon her sweet voice instead gave way to an almost inaudible sob. The weeping that lasts a nighttime would someday very soon be replaced with a joy in the morning, but on that night she was helpless but for the love of the woman who gave her life.

“Evan, honey?” Marlene knocked on the door; the sobbing was loud enough that she heard. No words came from the other side of the door, but the sobbing continued. She pushed the door open and walked with fear to her son’s bedside. The strong light of a nearly full moon illuminated the room, revealing the boy’s tear stained face. His eyes were red and his cheeks had turned hot and crimson. Marlene fell to her knees and put her hand on Evan’s forehead, brushing aside some hair and kissing him. She pulled back.

“Evan…what’s wrong? I’ve never seen you this way…even…” She gasped through the end of the sentence, mouthing silently,

“When your Daddy died.” The boy turned over and away from her. Only then did she realize that her son wore one of her old nightgowns. But instead of surprise she felt sadness for her only child. She reached over and touched his cheek, causing him to face her once again.

“Mommy…I….It….my fault…I’m ….I’m so sorry.” He began to sob once again.

“Honey…why are you sorry?” Marlene leaned closer, getting down almost eye to eye. The boy choked back a sob and repeated,

“I…my fault,” He looked away and spoke haltingly,

“Pastor Tony…he…I.” He looked up at the ceiling as tears cascaded down his cheeks once again. The look of shame mixed with horror practically shouted at Marlene; her eyes widened in angry recognition and she swore for only the third time in her life; this time with as much righteousness as profanity.

“Dear god in heaven, son of a bitch!”

Because the wind is high it blows my mind
Because the wind is high...aaaaaaaahhhh

Next: Love is All...

Because
words and music by
John Lennon and Paul McCartney
as performed by Keenan Tracey
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XBLXr4uo0C0&feature=related