Margo Hansen

 A SWEET VOICE

It was early the next morning that Keane tried tip-toeing past Jake’s bed to the stairway, but Jake heard him.

            “Time for chores?” Jake asked, starting to get up.

            Keane put a hand on his friend’s shoulder and whispered. “No. It’s still way too early for the folks to be up. I…I just wanted some time to look around on my own. You don’t mind, do you? I mean, you’re welcome to join me…”

            “Go ahead. Just get me when you need me, okay? I want to help out too.”

            “Oh, you will.” Keane grinned in the gray light of morning at Jake. “Thanks. I’ll see you later.”

            Keane was careful to avoid the squeaky spots on the stairway as he made his way quietly out of the house. He needed some time to be alone. For the last two years and even longer, he had someone working beside him, eating beside, even sleeping beside him. Come to think of it, it was only on this farm that he was truly able to be by himself. And he needed that. He needed space around him to think.

            He made a quick survey of the barn and the corrals and the chicken coop, noting repairs that needed attention before he headed out into the fields and ran his hand along the spires of grain growing there. The field stretched before him in the morning dawn much like the ocean waves did from the deck of the ship. The memory made his fists clench at his sides, and suddenly he found himself running.

            He ran until he came to the road and then he sprinted into an even faster pace. He didn’t know how long he kept going before he slowed, his breath coming in gasps and his body dripping with sweat. He bent over and took deep breaths to cool off and to calm his rapid heartbeat. He didn’t understand all that was going on inside him, but he figured that having the ability to physically move had to have something to do with experiencing his freedom again. On board the ship he couldn’t run, he couldn’t escape.

            He stood straighter and looked around him. This part of the road was a hill and gave him an excellent view of the surrounding fields and farmland, the prairie grass and the trees in the distance. Land! He soaked it all in, enjoying the sights, the smells, and the sounds. Birds were beginning their morning wakeup calls, and he listened to their music with his eyes shut, trying to identify each song, each twitter, and each chirp.

            He cocked his head to the side. What? There was another song coming from somewhere, but it wasn’t from a bird. He looked side to side seeking the source of the lilting voice, and it was a voice—a human voice—he was hearing, he was sure. He followed the road until the sound became louder, though it was still soft, its melody almost blending in with the birds around it.

            That tree.

            Keane stopped and crouched down alongside the road. He remembered now. There was an old elm tree by the stream that ran by here. He listened again while he searched around the tree to see if someone was there. He could pick out some words now and recognized them from a hymn he had heard in church, but he still couldn’t see anyone. He was held in place by the beauty of the voice blending in harmony with the songs of the birds. The dawning light of daybreak increased the volume of the song to a crescendo of praise to God as if it had been rehearsed to be in perfect time with the burst of the sun’s rays across the fields.

            Then the song stopped, though its final notes lingered in the air. Even the birds seemed to pause a moment before renewing their songs. It was then that Keane saw a girl swing herself down from a branch to the ground. She had been hidden from view by the fluttering leaves. The girl gave a quick look around her then walked swiftly away, following the side of the road until she was gone from view.

Keane rose from his hiding place and shielded his eyes from the sun to see if he could find her, but she was no longer there. It was almost as if he had dreamed it. He headed back to the farm feeling as though he had a glimpse of what heaven’s music was like.