Chapter 3 #2
After eating at a friendly mom-n-pop diner in town—and thankfully, with nobody recognizing them—the two head back to their motel room.
It’s already getting close to sunset, with how late they ended up arriving here.
But there’s no rule saying they have to be in bed early.
So Ray wants to take this free time with Gene to, finally, write some music together.
Instead of hanging inside, Ray suggests they pull the lawn chairs into the back yard.
That way they can watch the waves of the lake as the sun goes down, and hopefully catch some fireworks too while they’re at it.
They situate their chairs as close as can be, the plastic armrests touching each other.
Gene is always considerate when Ray sits next to him so as to not whack him with his arm when strumming his guitar, so it’s fine.
I like it better this way, anyway, Ray thinks.
He holds a short pencil and his pocket notebook in his lap, ready for when lyrics start to form.
Gene tunes his acoustic guitar, barely having to do so by hearing the correct notes in his head.
That perfect pitch magic has always impressed Ray; how easily Gene figures the notes out.
Ray’s a bit jealous he wasn’t born with the same musical gift, but what can he say?
That jealousy is stomped out when Gene uses his gift to help him in song.
How the hell did he get so lucky having such a talented best friend?
Gene strums a random chord, floating along like the long blades of grass on top of the shallow waves.
Ray thinks he knows this song—yes, it’s the intro to ‘Fly High’.
But then Gene changes it up. Another chord sounds from his guitar, switching key suddenly, yet somehow it makes sense.
A new song is starting, pulling its inspiration from the first.
“What’s that chord? I can’t name it just by hearing, like you can,” Ray says.
“D7,” Gene says, strumming it again. He moves his hand, and then plays another one. “This one’s a G. But let me try…” His fingers change again on the fretboard, making a lower, deeper chord. “Yeah, that sounds better.”
“I like it too.” Ray nods.
“I’ve heard this silly myth, one that the rock legends have told,” Gene muses as he keeps strumming.
“Guitarists know so many chords, have learned almost all of them that can be played on the instrument, but apparently there’s one that mystifies them all.
It’s called the Lost Chord. No one’s ever found it. ”
Ray chuckles at that. “Maybe you’ll be the one to finally find it.”
“Maybe, huh?” Gene smiles at Ray. “I’ll keep searching. Maybe I’ll even include it on one of our songs.”
“That’s the spirit.”
Gene strums the same, low chord again, then finds another that matches.
As the beautiful music plays, Ray gazes out at the water.
The sun is getting closer to the horizon.
It paints the sky beautiful colors: red, pink, and gold.
Popping sounds are heard in the distance—fireworks, definitely—and Ray’s mind drifts, mixing the music with the visuals in front of him. A golden sunset…
“Hey Gene, I’ve got an idea for a song.”
“Oh, really?” He stops strumming for a moment.
“It’s right here in front of us. A golden sunset.”
“Golden sunset…” Gene purses his lips, and looks out at the water. “Yeah, that sounds good.” He strums that chord again, then switches, playing another, then another, strumming a faster rhythm.
Ray listens to Gene repeat the same chord progression a couple times, and forms a tune to it in his head. He sings it out loud on the next round, “Take me away, honey, where dreams are met.”
“Yeah, just like that,” Gene says, continuing to strum.
“I’ll drive you away through the golden sunset.”
Ray looks onward as Gene strums, watching boats in the distance pass them by. He wonders if they have fireworks on board and if they’ll be shooting them off once the darkness takes over. But for now, the sky is gold, the clouds are glowing, and the warm, humid breeze feels so good on his skin.
“Woah-oh, baby, through the golden sunset,” he sings.
Instead of moving onto new chords for a verse, Gene repeats the same progression again. “Let’s sing that together, now. I’ll add a harmony.”
“Alright.” Ray nods, and he sings it again, this time with Gene:
“Take me away, honey, where dreams are met.”
Chords are strummed, voices resting during the measure.
“I’ll drive you away through the golden sunset.”
Another chord change, another measure.
“Woah-oh, baby, through the golden sunset.”
Gene’s voice melts so perfectly with Ray’s, finding the correct harmony even with only hearing him sing it once.
How is he always so good at this? Warmth and adoration for his best friend flow through Ray, bursting with butterflies trapped in his chest. He can’t help but smile.
He looks at Gene, already finding Gene staring right back at him.
Something about his moment—the waves crashing onto the rocks, the sound of the guitar, the pink-gold color of the sky, and how that light reflects on Gene’s handsome face and his sparkling, hazel eyes—it all comes flooding into Ray’s senses.
He reaches across the armrest and places his hand on Gene’s arm, making him pause his strumming.
It’s as if there’s a magnet inside him, pulling him ever so closer to Gene, leaning in just a little more.
Gene must have a similar magnetic force that pulls him closer too.
Ray looks at Gene’s lips, and he notices Gene look at his.
It’s been much too long since their lips have touched.
If only they could bridge that gap, and Ray could finally taste Gene again.
Maybe he can, out here behind the motel, nothing but them and the expanse of the lake—
A loud boom crashes behind them.
Ray and Gene both turn in their seats, startled, looking for where the sound came from—
Another boom crashes again, and they witness the glittering of millions of tiny sparkles, exploding nearby in the sky on the other side of the motel.
“Oh, uh, someone must be lighting fireworks in the parking lot,” Gene says with a shaky voice.
“They’re doing it pretty early. It’s still not that dark out yet.” Ray’s heart is beating fast, feeling each vibration in his throat.
“I guess so. That scared me for a second,” Gene chuckles.
“Yeah, same.” He bites his lip as he turns his gaze back to his best friend.
“Well, uh… I guess we can keep working on that song. I really liked what we started.”
“For sure.” Ray nods sheepishly. “Let’s sing the chorus again, and then if you wanna keep up changing chords, we can work out a verse.”
“Alright.”
Gene picks up right where they left off, as if nothing else had happened.
Maybe nothing would have, seeing as it probably would be a stupid idea to kiss right out in the open, with the possibility of any of the other motel guests walking around at any given moment.
Doing such a thing is much too risky. But it gives Ray hope that, whenever they retire to the room for the night, that they can continue what they started. To finally kiss—and maybe even more…
They figure out some lyrics for the verses, and Ray writes them down in his little pocket notebook. But soon, it gets too dark to see the pages. They remain outside still for a while, looking out toward the water, watching as fireworks are launched from boats and decorate the night sky above.