The Vibrant Red Psalms

I sat cross-legged on the ground, with my back to the bricks. My flute case was in my lap. Théo was lying on his side, looking over the calm waters of the canal. Moored canoes, lined up end-to-end, periodically bonked into one another with the waves.

We lounged in this urban serenity that we had found at the outskirts of downtown Nechaero, whereto we had arrived at the end of our aimless post-brunch stroll. A soothing wind blew scattered leaves across the ground, some falling adrift into the canal.

The platform that we were lazing on was lowered from the level of the roads, so as to be closer to the level of the water running in the canals. Above my head, railings separated the upper ground from the lowered platform, and the stairs connecting the two levels were just left of where I was sitting, with more stairs on the other side to my right. It was a bit of a crude description– Théo knew more about architecture than I did.

Speaking of Théo, that was when he tilted his head backwards, looking at me upside down.

“Hey… You probably already noticed that I don’t exactly have a job, but why is your schedule so free on a Monday? Shouldn’t you be in school, or something similar to that?”

Ah.

That was right.

“It’s very shameful to admit, but I no longer attend any school. It’s been over half a year since I quit. Yes, as pitiable as it is… I’m a high school dropout.”

Théo rolled over onto his back, staring at me with eyes wide in shock. He stroked his chin, looking up and down at every part of my body.

👁   👁         👁   👁         👁   👁

“Oho, never would’ve guessed you were a dropout! You have so much more poise than I did. I was also a dropout, by the way. But, wow! You seemed so self-assured. As if you had direction in life. Damn! You’re a dropout? Though that explains how you would’ve had that much time to think about life. And happiness. Actually, now that I think about it, you look like you could be a dropout. Yeah, I can see it, haha! I can see the regret in your eyes.”

👁   👁   . . .

“Jeez, show some respect! It’s not a good display of manners to talk so energetically about someone else’s insecurities, y’know?”

“Hahaha, my bad.”

But it was true. It was true that I was an outcast, and it was true that my heart was full of regret.

“Well, at least we have something in common.”

“We’ll lick each other’s wounds.”

“That’s rather depressing to hear.”

“Man, don’t I know it! Haha.”

We sat side-by-side, gazing at the waters of the canal, without a word between us. A mallard duck floated atop the water, quietly preening its feathers. Every minute motion sent out ripples in every direction, colliding with the sides of the canal, rebounding and reduplicating, folding over themselves infinitely until they faded. The duck swam away.

Now that the day was past noon, the people who had gone out on their lunch breaks returned to their jobs, and now the streets were left empty.

“Hey… it’s kind of stupid, isn’t it?”

👁   →   ◡

“That we think we know so much about happiness, and yet we’re still two losers.”

༄   →   🫁

“We pretty much know exactly why we’re unhappy, and we’re still unhappy. It’s not like we don’t know what to do, or how to be happy. So why are we sad? Aren’t we stupid? Haha.”

༄   ←   🫁

“It’s really irrational, is all I’m saying.”

◡   →   👁

As I opened my eyes, I saw the ground, tiled in granite, and I saw myself, my black leather loafers which were firm on the granite.

“You know, you can never be happy just because you want to be happy.”

“Then how does one become happy?”

Heavily, I sighed.

“Maybe love?”

Hm. That was dorky.

“Hey, if I really wanted to be happy, there’s really nothing stopping me from going back to my hometown and getting a job. Or falling in love. Haha.”

I gazed into the shimmering water.

“I take back what I said before. Anybody who wants to be happy will be happy. But nobody can want to be happy just because they wish to be happy.”

“Damn, that’s fucked up.”

“If you say so.”

We were silent for a while after that. I stared up at the afternoon sky, and I saw that it was starkly featureless. Not a bird flew, and not a leaf blew in the wind.

“Ah. If only it rained.”

Théo stared at the waters of the canal. His eyes were overcast by his long black lashes.

“Actually, I know a raindance.”

?    ?    ?

“A raindance?”

“Yeah, a small jig that you do to summon rain. I learned it when I was really young. All the old foresters on this mountain know it. I don’t know if it works or not, but doesn’t the act of trying already mean a lot?”

“I... maybe?”

🕺    →    🌧    ?

How unexpectedly upbeat of Théo to suggest something like that, all of a sudden!

“C’mon, you can put that flute of yours to use. I need a tune in 6/8 metre. Nothing specific. Anything will do.”

“Ah? My flute? Um, okay…”

I fumbled about, taking my flute out of my case, putting the parts together. Flustered, I stood upright, holding the flute tightly to my chest. I felt like a dope!

Théo stretched his arms in broad motions, and then his hips, and then his legs.

“Ready?”

“This is all really sudden! Also, this doesn’t really achieve anything!”

“But at least it’ll be fun, don’t you think?”

“Well–”

Hm. Fun?

“I suppose it could be.”

“Then, with no further ado, Armi, my love… Play!”

And so I played. Notes came out, flowing free, breathing in, breathing out. Not a thought crossed my mind, only song, silver keen.

Théo danced, triple step, triple step, triple step, facing forth, arms aside, shoulders loose, narrowed eyes.

“Righty-O, this first part, my momma showed to me when I was wee.”

He went off, triple step, triple step, fleet of foot, triple step, triple step, nothing to hold him back, triple step, to the left, triple step, to the right, triple step, triple step, and a kick and a spin.

Parted then Théo’s lips, said then were Théo’s words.

“What is the meaning of... life?”

He danced on, with his steps, his speedy triple steps, left to right, right to left, left to right, light and deft. Watching him, his raindance, step to step, back and forth, ‘cross the floor, my eyes did swiftly dart, in a trance.

“What is the meaning of… jive?”

With a spin and a kick, Théo did a backflip.

🕺   ↺   🕺

“Yahoo! If ya dance, then dance like it all means something!”

“Killin’ it.”

“Thank you, thank you.”

Théo then straightened out his jacket, tidied his tousled hair. I then began again, playing away at my serenade.

“Now, this next part, my poppa taught to me when I was three.”

Théo looked up at the cloudy sky. Tap, tap, tappity-tap– Tapping his shoes against granite tile, tapping ‘til the rhythm worked into his feet, into his body, into his mind. And like a summer storm, Théo did burst into wild a dance, lightning from head to toe surging strong.

“Twist it like ya twenty, strike it like yer rich! Uh!”

Swivelling on his feet, he danced most like a beast, stamping like a stallion, and he thrust his hand to the sky, finger like a stinger.

“Shake it like ya thirty, kiss her like yer bitch! Yeah!”

“That’s raunchy! Hehe.”

“If you think that’s bad, you should have seen my dad in his prime.”

“Sounds exciting.”

“Whole ‘nother kind of animal.”

Théo went on at a pace more calm, dancing his triple step, triple step, right to left, left to right.

“This last part, hm… whatever should it be? I guess it’ll have to be all me.”

And he danced, power in his movements, new power, newfound zeal. Mesmerised, I did watch as he was overcome by the likes of unreal funk. Quickly I played at my thrilling trill, as closely as I could match his fire.

“Shake it, shake it like your momma’s dead!”

!   🕺   →   👏   !

“Shake it, shake it like your poppa’s dead!”

!   👏   ←   🕺   !

“Shake it, shake it like the whole world is dead!”

Théo clapped, thunder clapped, and rain came pouring down in torrents. He gazed upwards through his drenched locks, rainwater dripping from his chin, and in that moment, we couldn’t be more lost.