Here Comes Treble: String Of Pearls - Final Episode
...At the fringes of her mind, memories tingled, of stars swirling, moons marching, of a voice singing to her and Kieran, of trumpets drawing them through space. As she tried to grasp it, the memory blew away with the star-dust of dreams....
Isabel Bradley concluded her imaginative five-part story. To read the first four episodes, and lots more columns by Isabel, please click on http://www.openwriting.com/archives/here_comes_treble/
Debbie lifted a heavy hand. Gently, lovingly, she rested it on Mikes' curly black hair. "Mike, thank you. Without your love, I wouldn't be alive. Without your faith, I wouldn't be here. Neither would Kieran."
His voice muffled by the blankets - and by emotion - Mike said, "I notice your trusty sub-conscious found a name for our son."
Through the window, Debbie watched the night blow slowly across the sky, bleaching all colour from the world. Trees became dark silhouettes on the hill opposite. Houses faded, then sprang to life with starry lights that glimmered through earth's atmosphere.
At the fringes of her mind, memories tingled, of stars swirling, moons marching, of a voice singing to her and Kieran, of trumpets drawing them through space. As she tried to grasp it, the memory blew away with the star-dust of dreams.
Stars lit the darkening sky.
Debbie turned the brilliance of her being into a smile for Mike. He watched with wondering eyes. By a miracle, his Debbie had returned to life.
"Mike," she said, "I know it sounds crazy, but I don't feel like I did before. I don't feel like a `Debbie' any more. Would you call me `Devorah' all the time now? It could be a sort of pact of parenthood, a symbol of our determination to love and honour each other as soul-mates forever."
Mike raised his head, and looked intently at Debbie. Something had given her depth. Her eyes were the colour of cornflowers, the irises ringed by the blue of the star-ways. They pierced Mike's gentle soul with a passion impossible to resist. She looked the same sweet, loving girl he had married. Yet, there was a strength, a purpose, which hadn't been there before.
Mike hesitated. But - his wife was alive. And the name given her at her christening WAS beautiful, unusual. Somehow, it now fitted her perfectly, after all she had been through.
"From now on, you'll be my darling Devorah, my soul-mate, my wife, the mother of our child, our Kieran."
*****
Weeks later, Devorah, Kieran and Mike were together in their cozy lounge. Devorah gazed down at her son.
"Mike was right," she thought, "our son is just perfect."
As she gazed into Kieran's dark eyes, she thought she heard a warm voice, singing deep in her soul. The song welled, like a happy sob, into her throat. She hummed a lullaby to the child she had nurtured through time and space.
From Mike's state-of-the art speakers, Mahler's second symphony rang through the room, mystical, triumphant. Orchestra and alto wove their magic in almost-tangible, almost-visible glory.
Devorah fingered the string of pearls at her throat. At the fringes of her consciousness, there flickered a memory of loss and sadness, fire and destruction, mingled with mystic wonder and joy.
Until next time…. ‘here comes Treble!’
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by Isabel Bradley
