Double Tears
Chapter 112
“It only becomes art if it touches other people.”
—Andreas Eschbach, The Carpet Makers
“IS IT… IS THAT OKAY?” Beca asked on behalf of all of us. I couldn’t even imagine asking an ex to help the current love and I wasn’t sure what was happening here. Beca still had hold of Donna’s hand and I could tell Donna wasn’t interested in letting it go.
“Yes, of course,” Donna laughed. “He owes me this one. Don’t worry.”
“Donna,” I said. I didn’t mean to whisper but my mouth suddenly would make no louder sound. “You aren’t being forced to do something you don’t want to in order to make this happen, are you?” She sat up straight. All of our attention was focused on her and her nudity had nothing to do with it. She looked directly at me.
“I don’t know how to take that,” she said. “I don’t know if you think I am that stupid or that loyal.”
“Yes,” I said.
“Yes?”
“I am—we all are—falling in love with you. It’s been coming for a long time and I think it is very near. But for all that, we really don’t know you that well. I know what I want to think but I don’t know if you really are that stupid or that loyal. Please don’t think badly of us, but we’ve held from the very beginning of our pod that no one ever has to do something he or she is uncomfortable with. If you are not fully comfortable with having…”
“John,” she supplied.
“…with having John here to do this, we’d rather find a different way—even if it means we don’t have the kind of quality a professional videographer could give us. Donna, we love you. We want you to be a part of us and that means not sacrificing yourself for us. I… we… please, Donna. You are the only one who can tell us.”
“I see.” She didn’t say anything for several seconds and I was afraid we’d just lost our newest pod member. Brittany gripped me more tightly and Desi’s arm wrapped around my back. “You’re right, Jacob. We don’t know each other well enough to know. Would I ‘pay’ for services by doing something I don’t want to do? No. Would I sacrifice myself for the pod? I don’t know. Fortunately, neither of those is the case.” She sighed.
“That’s all we really needed to know,” I said.
“Yes and no. This pod was not the reason I broke off my engagement with John. I admit, as soon as it was done, my first thought was that I was free to explore whether there was a fit. But John and I are not suited to each other for other reasons. He was always good and very kind to me. If you think about the scripture that says ‘no man has greater love than he lay down his life for his friends,’—or whatever the exact quote is—you’d find John as an exemplar. He would have sacrificed anything for me. Except his prejudices. Philosophically, we are not on the same page. We did a lot of tolerating each other. We were very much in love, but down deep, we didn’t like each other. That is why we—I should say ‘I’—broke off the engagement. I couldn’t see myself married to a man whose politics and opinions were so diametrically opposed to mine. I understand that you—most of you—are still in the process of forming those opinions. Nanette and Sophie and I are ahead of the rest in that regard, for no other reason than it takes time to mature into the kind of person you really are. But I like what I see here, just as your other older pod mates do. We have a kindred spirit. That is what I lacked with John. Do I love him? Yes. Do I want to be part of the culture he sees around him? No. When my father died, John simply assumed I’d sell the farm and move in with him. I love the farm. That was the final straw, as far as I was concerned. I helped him, though, with several projects over the past year since we broke up. That is why he owes me, not because I’m offering him any kind of ‘compensation’ for his time. It’s up to you, of course, whether you are too uncomfortable with our past relationship to accept his help. If you agree to it, he’ll be here Thursday morning. If not, I’ll call him tomorrow and tell him not to come.”
“I’m sorry for sounding so immature, Donna,” I said.
“Actually, you sparked a very mature conversation, Jacob. I should have led with that explanation instead of springing it on you as if I were your teacher and you needed to do what I say,” she said.
“I scarcely thought that,” I said.
“No. I did. It’s the way I approached the subject. I’m the one who’s sorry.” She paused and looked around the circle before heaving a big sigh that did spectacular things for her breasts, setting them in motion and acting like a magnet for my eyes. “I need to say one other thing, however. This is something I detected in our discussions over the summer and that has drawn me more intimately into the pod. If I decided to sleep with John—because he’s a very sexy man and turns me on—it would be no one’s business but my own. Just like Emily sleeping with her barracks roommate or Rachel sleeping with someone during basic training would be only her business. Let’s make sure we all understand and can accept that.”
“Yes,” Beca said. “One of the reasons for having a pod is to have something to come back to after. We’ve all talked about that. We’re going to be split up and tossed around the country against our will. It’s not what we do while we’re gone that makes a difference. It’s that we come back. And have something to come back to.”
“I should let you all discuss this and go back to my tent. Surely, that girl has worn herself out by now,” Donna laughed. I stood up as did the rest of the girls.
“If there is no objection?” I said, looking around. “I think we can agree and thank you for bringing your solution to us. This will give us a huge boost in terms of our production quality. May I give you a kiss before you go, Donna?” I asked.
“That would…” I’m sure she glanced down at my still-tumescent cock. “…be a pleasure.”
Oh, God! Yes! I had Donna’s naked breasts pressed against my chest as my cock speared her stomach before being pushed to the side so we could fully embrace. We kissed and she didn’t pull back from me. I didn’t grab her ass, as tempting as that was, but just poured my love into that kiss.
“I’m growing to love you, too, Jacob,” she whispered to me. “Perhaps I could have a kiss from each of the girlfriends before I go as well,” she said aloud.
The girls took her up on that offer straightway and as soon as Brittany was clear of Donna’s arms, she was in mine. One by one, we collected kisses and clung together. Donna pulled on her nightshirt and camp robe and stepped out of the tent flap with a soft, “Goodnight. Sweet dreams.”
Dreams were a long time coming as the five of us fell back on the air mattresses and made love.
Wednesday, we worked like maniacs. Several times, we saw people standing nearby as we rehearsed. Cindy, Desi, and I focused on each other and on making our music and our actions 100% consistent. Donna gave us suggestions on positions and dramatic flair. Beca brought us water and encouraged us at every break. Brittany and Sophie sprang into their own as dancers, enticing the sprite to the minstrel and then to the monster.
And Desi.
I knew Desi was able to adopt a character and play it. I’d heard her sing often enough. But I had no idea how astute a musical talent she was. There wasn’t a word of dialog or lyrics in our performance, but Desi’s vocalese ran counterpoint to Cindy’s and my playing as if the composer had arranged it. It was amazing. We worked all day and by dinner time, we felt our performance was as good as it would get. Little did we know.
John arrived at nine Thursday morning. I thought he was driving down from Fort Wayne, but it turned out he’d driven to and stayed in Louisville Wednesday evening. We hadn’t started yet and anticipated another run-through before he got to the camp. Riko and Riley took care of getting him checked in with credentials and Donna brought him to the fire where we were still cleaning up from breakfast.
“John, I’d like you to meet my pod and our company of performers,” Donna said. I saw John’s eyebrow shoot up but he didn’t say anything. “This is Beca, my assistant director and assistant producer. These lithe young women are Brittany and Sophie, our dancers. Desiree is our vocalist and plays the part of the monster. If Pentatonix knew about her, they’d be Sexatonix—in more ways than one.” We all laughed and Desi bowed. “And this is Marvel and Hopkins. They are the featured performers and we expect them to make many videos in the future, with or without everyone else.”
“Happy to meet you, John,” I said, extending a hand. There was nothing aggressive in his handshake and he offered his hand to Cindy, too.
“I’ve previewed the YouTube performance the two of you did in the spring. You’ve got a great sound and chemistry. I’ll do my best to make the video equal to the performance,” he said. Then he was all business. “I’d like to record everything. To start, forget I’m here. I want to see you get into costume and makeup. I want to hear you play. I want to record your staging before we even talk about how to pick it up for the final. We never know what we might be able to cut in later. Think of that part as a documentary. After I’ve seen it once, we’ll start working on video angles and scenes.”
“You want to record us getting into costume?” Brittany asked. She looked shocked and Cindy was hiding her face.
“Sorry,” he said. “I’ll preserve your modesty. I just want a feel for how you prepare for the performance. You might be a little young for this, but think Jesus Christ Superstar. The film starts with the actors arriving in the desert on a bus, unloading their props, warming up, and getting into costume and character. The audience gets to start with their transformation from a ragtag troupe to the action. We might not have time to include any of that in this video, but you might find it useful for a piece you decide on in the future.”
“Okay, I guess. As long as you aren’t trying to film any of us getting dressed. Some of us are underage,” Brittany suggested.
“Flag me away during sensitive parts and I’ll turn my back. Let me know when you’re decent. Let me start with some shots of you finishing dishes here at camp and I’ll just follow along. Donna, direct me if you know something is about to happen I should shift to.”
I didn’t have time to like or dislike the man. I was a little surprised that he looked… older. I suddenly had a new point of reference but no time to think about it. We were on from the moment he turned the camera on until we were too exhausted to move.
It didn’t take long before we forgot all about him. We got into costume and makeup. We grabbed our instruments and paraded to the entry where we’d be starting the performance if everything worked as we thought it should. We ran a few parts, walking through our positions and letting Brittany and Sophie get used to maneuvering Desi’s wings. They’d also added some great bits as herders. When I first came in, they danced, herding Cindy toward me. They practically pulled Desi into her positions by the wings. When I was captured and Cindy was playing her plaintive melody, they danced her toward the monster and unveiled me in Desi’s arms, lethargic and unable to play.
When we finished our first walk through, we ran it. Then we ran it again. It was close to noon and we all needed a break when John put down his camera and picked up his phone. He walked away talking while we greedily drank water and chatted about what went wrong and where we needed to close a gap or change a musical stab. Pretty much what we always do.
“I need to go to Louisville,” he said to Donna.
“Now?” she said.
“Yes. I need pickups. I don’t think we should post record this. We’d lose too much atmosphere. Barkley Music has what I need. I’ll get a wireless pickup for the lute, the flute, and the vocalist. We’ll get atmospheric presence from the general mike. You kids have something here. It will take me a good part of the afternoon to get what I want and then we’ll start the whole thing over again in the morning, just like we did today.”
“The show opens at 3:00 tomorrow afternoon,” Desi said. “We’ll have to perform throughout the village after that.”
“Great! That’s just great. I checked at the office when… Riko and Riley?... yeah. When we registered. Guests during the festival know they might be filmed or recorded during their visit. We’ll want to tape Saturday and Sunday as well.”
I had to admit, working with a pro was exhausting and exhilarating. John was a non-stop ball of energy behind the camera. I needed to look up some of the other stuff he’d worked on. After grabbing one of the sandwiches we’d prepared for lunch, he took off and said he’d see us in the morning. We all collapsed, feeling we were ‘off’ for the first time today.
Donna plopped down on my lap as soon as I’d set the lute aside.
“Every time I work with that maniac, it’s the same. He’s more exhausting than the production. Are you okay?” I didn’t know why she was focusing on me with the question since everyone was sprawled at the picnic table exhausted. But it was nice.
“I feel like I’ve just run a 10k,” I laughed.
“Don’t be surprised if he’s filming you running tomorrow morning,” Donna said. “I was a little worried that he wouldn’t take you seriously but he’s an incredible judge of potential. If there’s any way he can bring it out in the video, he will. Do you know he plans to shoot one of the takes tomorrow from up in the tree at the entrance? He’s a crazy man!”
“Donna, thank you. I could never have imagined working with an ex like you are working with him. I saw you directing camera positions all through the morning.”
“I had help. Beca was making suggestions almost as fast as I was. She has a sharp eye. How’s the story coming?”
Her abrupt change of focus took me off-stride. She was still interested in the story. The more intimate version.
“Mostly, I have notes. It’s been a little hectic in camp.”
“You’ll only have two days before school starts when we get back. Thankfully, I have my classes prepared or I’d be in a panic. Don’t rush it, but you should know I’m looking forward to reading it.”
“So am I,” I laughed. “Really, Donna. It’s the only way I know of to thank you.”
“Don’t you get it yet? This is my thanks. Being with you. Being part of the pod. Do you suppose… Will it be okay to join you all in the tent when Cindy’s mother returns? Last weekend we just slept under the stars,” she said.
“We might again. The wind has died down and we were talking about moving outside last night.”
“If you move out tonight, you’ll have two more with you.”
“Wow! Yeah. I sometimes forget about Cindy at night.”
“Let me assure you, she never forgets about you. Nor do I.” Donna kissed me. It started softly but heated up as we sat there. I just treasured each moment holding her in my arms.
Friday morning, we were wired for sound. Literally. True to Donna’s prediction, John was back at camp in time to catch me pounding down the trail as I returned from my run.
“That was great! Do you do that every morning?”
“Yessir,” I said. I still didn’t know how to respond to John.
“Sir? Forget it. I’m just the techie. I want to get some footage tomorrow morning at different spots along the trail. You can point them out to me later. Where’s your lute? I want to get it wired.”
“It won’t affect the sound, will it?”
“You won’t know it’s there. The pickup clips onto the bridge of the lute. We’ll test it a bit so you are aware of it but it won’t interfere with your playing. My contact at the store said this is the same pickup Julian Bream uses. And the one for the flute… what’s her name? Cindy?... that one is more visible but after a couple of minutes, I don’t think she’ll notice it. We’ll have to be most careful of the voice pickup to make sure the wings don’t smack into it. You’ll do fine.”
Before everyone was awake and out, John was running his camera. He wore a huge belt with batteries on it, declaring he had enough memory and power to run all day. Well, good luck with that.
He caught everyone climbing out of sleeping bags we’d tossed around the fire last night. It was a beautiful star-filled night and I was glad he hadn’t been there to record Sophie crawling into my sleeping bag with me.
We worked hard all day and were privileged to lead the procession into the village when the gates opened at 3:00. Of course, we didn’t do everything in our performance costumes, though mine wasn’t much different. At five o’clock we drew a nice crowd for our first performance, including leading a lot of people into the village when we started. Most stopped and watched the full performance before they continued. We had it down to almost exactly eleven minutes and people would stop to see that much, even when they had other favorites—and food—to attend to.
When we got back to our camp at ten, Betty, Nanette, Rachel, and Livy were all there with dinner waiting for us. Most people slept under the stars, but my three girlfriends and I slipped into the tent and tried to keep each other from making too much noise for the others to sleep.
For most of Saturday and Sunday, John shot atmosphere and unusual angles. He said he thought he had most of what he needed in the can, so to speak. It was a sheer chance that I was getting water for everyone Sunday afternoon when I chanced to overhear him talking to Donna.
“I’m heading back and will have this edited in a week or so. Good stuff,” he said.
“I can’t thank you enough for taking this on, John.”
“It was a slow time. There’s one way you could thank me…”
“John…”
“I thought you’d have enough of high schoolers after you got home from school. I never anticipated you babysitting another batch.”
“These are my pod, John.”
“Pod? You aren’t going into National Service. These kids are all ten or twelve years younger than you.”
“That never bothered you when it was you and me.”
“Really, Donna, if you’d just let me take care of you, you wouldn’t have to worry about any of those things.”
“That’s the difference in a nutshell, John. You want to take care of me. I don’t want to be taken care of any more or less than I take care of my mates.”
“Mates? You can’t mean you’re having sex with him! Never mind. I know you’ve always liked girls, too. Which one has your eye?”
“All ten of them. John, I appreciate you making this video but don’t expect anything more from me.”
“I’ll be standing by, Donna. Standing by to pick up the pieces of your broken life. But I won’t wait forever.”
“Don’t wait, John. For the first time in my life, I know exactly where I belong.”
END PART IX
Comments
Please feel free to send comments to the author at devon@devonlayne.com.
