Chapter 11: Madison's Meteor, Part 11

"Chicken, both of them, but then you know all about chicken." He made clucking noises at Frank. The sirens wailed to a stop, but Greg paid no attention.

"FREEZE!" The Sheriff's bellow got the kid's attention. He turned to aim the gun at the Sheriff. Frank looked at the kid. The kid is a jerk and a bully, but he doesn't deserve to die. He lunged up and grabbed the kid's arm and wrenched the gun away and threw it into a corner. Greg swung at him and clipped his face. Frank threw the kid toward the Sheriff who caught him and had him on the ground in seconds.

The pain in Frank's shoulder suddenly got worse and he opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He fell back on the meteorite his blood running out across the stone. He felt some of the same connection he had the first time he touched it. There was an answer in there, but he couldn't grasp it. The Sheriff shouted into his radio, but it was a distant echo.

The meteorite was pulled Frank into itself.

***

It was cold inside the stone, and dark.

Frank floated in space. The heat of the sun burned his face and feel the bitter cold his back. The hard, unwinking stars stood aloof. Space, as its name suggested was empty. Frank was alone.

The longer Frank was in space the harder it became for him to get a sense of place and speed. At one moment hurtled along, the next he was at a dead stop. It was disconcerting, so he closed his eyes and tried to figure out what was going on. There was nothing. No breath of wind, no pull of gravity hinted at how he related to the universe.

He opened his eyes and looked at the stars again. They were lucky, they knew their place. He was just a chunk of rock, alone in space.

He didn't know how long he was in space before he began to hear the music. The music started as chords. Low notes made his teeth itch while high notes were a bare whisper in the aether.

The chords shifted and changed, now major, now minor, now a dominant seven or augmented fourth. Dissonances had him ready to scream and then resolutions which brought him to tears. The more he listened the easier it became to discern, not a melody, but a direction to the music. He felt with all his being that the music was taking him somewhere. His speed of travel or time in space was only relevant in relationship to the great Song.

Yet it in the midst of the wonder and beauty of the Song, something was missing. Even with the breadth of the chords there was another note that he needed to hear. Tentatively, fearfully, Frank hummed the note.

As soon as he hummed that note, the space around him changed. He was part of the great Dance, a singer in the great Song. What was empty became full. Frank traveled through music more glorious than he could bear. The stars were not far off and aloof, but his family. Their song accompanied him as his made them richer. He sang hope with a nebula, and sorrow with a quasar.

Now, not only was space filled with the vast fellowship of creation, but his journey had a destination. A tiny blue planet circled a small yellow star. Frank would add himself to that planet's song. He would give up his note to make the planet's note richer and more vibrant.

As he entered the atmosphere the heat increased. His outer skin melted and reformed. Frank's song became an ecstasy of joy, of peace, of purpose. He crashed into the earth and married himself to the planet's fate.

The warmth of his love radiated out into his surroundings, he offered his part of the Song to whoever listened. And someone was listening, unaware, unknowing. Frank touched him and something of the great Song crossed between. They talked and sat in communion not seeking answers, but to be.

Then an answer was needed, and Frank tried to put the vastness of the Dance, the hugeness of the Song into words. Once the connection reformed words became unnecessary. Frank belonged. He was not alone.

But words were necessary. Others needed to hear, to dance. Frank struggled to speak. Somehow he must fit all that was, into a breath of sound and air.

Then someone touched him and called him to himself.

***

"Frank, Frank," the voice said, and he could hear the tears. "Frank, you can't leave me now. Please come back." A bolt of light went through him and anchored his feet to the earth and sent his heart soaring.

He took a breath and opened his eyes.

Frank was lying in a hospital bed surrounded by flowers, balloons and cards, but even the clouds of well wishes couldn't distract him from Jennita who sat beside him holding his hand tightly.

"He's awake!" she shouted, and a nurse came in to take his pulse. She nodded in satisfaction.

"You can have small sips of water for now. Your throat will be dry, but don't overdo it." Frank thought she was somewhat cool and aloof until she gave Jennita's shoulder a squeeze on the way out.

He tried to say something, but his voice refused to work.

"Shh," Jennita said, "don't talk," she held the cup of water for him to sip "It isn't tea, but it will do." She pushed tears away from her eyes. "Here I am being all foolish, I was looking at you in the bed and started thinking about Pete."

Frank squeezed her hand.

"I suppose you're right. Even here in Madison, there is a part of me that is Pete's widow." She smiled through the tears. "But isn't the most important part, not by a long shot."