The Song of David

So I’d called him. And I’d let him tell me what I wanted to hear. What I needed to hear. He said he’d taken a blow to the head. Such a clean, simple truth that left out all the pertinent details. All the violent details. The details were troubling, the details were specific, and I’d let myself miss them.

As Georgia requested, I came straight home from the gym, walked in the house, and without a word, my wife had cued the cassette tape. Then I listened to my conversation with my friend, I listened to all the things he hadn’t told me. Now the fear was twisting in my gut, and I was pacing. Millie was standing when I arrived, as if Tag’s revelation had lifted her out of her seat. Her face was petrified rock—layers of shock imprinted in her expression. By the time we reached the end of the tape and Tag’s voice had broken, Millie broke with him, and she’d bowed her head, fumbled for her chair, and collapsed into it. Henry sat nearby, and for the first time, he seemed to be aware that something was very, very wrong.

“He came looking for you that night, Moses. Remember? You weren’t home, and he didn’t stay very long.” Georgia’s voice shook, and she held Kathleen to her chest, rocking and swaying, something she did even when she wasn’t holding the baby. It had become a habit that I teased her about. Keep moving and the baby won’t cry. Keep moving and the baby won’t wake. I wanted her to hold me too. I wanted her to move with me in her arms so that I wouldn’t wake up, so I wouldn’t cry. If I was asleep then none of this was real. But there was more. And it was all too real.





I KEPT DRIVING. The weather was clear, the sun shining, the sky blue, the air crisp and cool, so I drove and I thought. I pulled into Moses and Georgia’s driveway late in the afternoon, and the sky was so radiant over the crouching hills west of town that I stopped for a minute as I stepped out of my truck and just let the view settle on me. But the beauty just made me ache. What am I gonna do? What am I gonna do? What am I gonna do? The chorus started up in my head again.

No one answered the door, and I ended up walking around back to see if anyone was in the pasture beyond. Moses was becoming more and more comfortable around animals, though it was Georgia who was the horsewoman. She was working on her man, and had coaxed Moses into the saddle enough times that he had actually started to enjoy it, though he grumbled and scowled whenever I asked him about it.

Georgia was in the round corral, dead center, running a glossy sorrel around in circles. The sorrel seemed to be cooperating, and Georgia’s attention was glued on the animal, talking, reassuring, applying pressure and then releasing it to draw him to her. She was nothing like Moses. And she was perfect for him. I’d known it the moment she’d opened her mouth, the moment she looked in my eyes and stuck out her hand.

“Hey George.” I called her George because Moses hated it.

“Hey Tag! What’s happenin’ handsome?” Georgia’s face lit up in a smile so big the ache in my chest spread to my gut and made my insides twist. I missed her already. I didn’t want to miss her. What am I gonna do? What the hell am I gonna do? She strode to the fence, stepped up on the bottom rung and reached for me, pulling me into a fierce hug.

I needed that hug. I needed it so badly. But I knew if I gave in to the need to hold onto her longer than I usually did, she would sense my turmoil, and she would know something was up. So I squeezed her tight and let her go, and put a smile on my lips that felt like a lie and called on my God-given ability to bullshit. It was a talent that had served me well in my life.

“Hey baby. Where’s Mo?” Yep. I still had it. My voice was smooth and my hands were steady as I pulled the hat off her head and perched it on my own. Always the flirt, even with my best friend’s wife, even when I was hanging by an emotional thread. It was just my way. And Georgia knew it. She grabbed her hat back and ducked under the fence to join me on the other side. The horse she’d been working with whinnied at the loss of attention, and Georgia looked back and laughed.

“Oh, now you want me around, Sis? You were running from me a minute ago!”

“Ah, but the chase is the best part, George. You know that,” I said, laughing with her, my eyes on the disappointed sorrel. “The moment you turn away is the moment she’ll beg you to come back.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Georgia laughed. “But it’s my turn to play hard to get. Speaking of hard to get, you just missed Moses. He had a session tonight in Salt Lake. I think he was going to drop by and see you, actually. But you’re here. So that’s not going to work. You didn’t bring Millie?”

I winced. I didn’t mean to. But I couldn’t think about Millie. Not right now.

“Tag?” Georgia hadn’t missed the wince, and she studied me, a troubled groove between her eyes.

“Nah. I didn’t bring her. It was a spur of the moment trip. Moses called me, said he’d painted me into a picture last night, and I was curious. That’s all. Plus, I miss my God-baby. I want to hold her. Where is little Taglee?”