After that, a couple of folks request familiar hymns. Then Micah and I do a popular country-western duet that leads to stirring applause.
When we’re done, Burgundy, who is seated on Micah’s other side, leans over and says something in his ear.
The song he starts playing is one I’ve never heard before.
It’s odd and compelling both. A strange combination of gospel, country, and sci-fi utopia. About a fantastical, perfect world that will come at the “turn of the century.”
Because the song is new to me, it takes a minute to wrap my head around it. Burgundy and Micah are the primary singers, but they must have sung this song before because a lot of the others join in on the chorus.
Something unexpected stirs inside me, both at the lovely, communal singing—multiple voices raised in melody and harmony, shaping something beautiful out of nothing—and by the unpredictable lyrics. It must be written at least partly tongue-in-cheek, but the effect isn’t humor as much as a bittersweet poignancy in this hope, this unlikely vision of a better world in the future.
But the point isn’t the bittersweet unlikelihood of this world ever materializing.
The point is the hope.
It speaks to me. As much as anything ever has.
The words are easy, so I join in on the repeated chorus at the end. Micah has his eyes closed, and Burgundy is openly crying as she sings.
I feel like crying too, but I don’t. But I’m filled with something that spills out with my voice, that drums with the beat, that pulses with my blood.
Because I thought all of this was lost from the world.
But it’s not.
The next morningwe say goodbye to Burgundy—only temporarily since we’ll be coming back here somewhat regularly. We still haven’t figured out exactly how the schedule will work, but Logan is open to Micah joining back on some sort of part-time basis.
After we say goodbye to Burgundy, we have to do the same to Deck and Lilah. And even Logan has deigned to come out of his council room to see us off.
“Don’t be strangers,” he says. “And I’ll let you know when we can use your help.”
“Sounds good. If you need us, we’ll be here.” Micah glances over at me, as if to check that he isn’t being presumptuous.
I nod so he knows I agree with what he said.
I’m about to turn away when I see Logan giving me an odd look.
“What is it?” I ask.
“Next time you’re here, we’ll have to do some target practice.”
“We already know she’s better than even Deck,” Micah says with a grin.
“Yes. But we don’t know if she’s better than me.”
This dry comment evokes laughter from the whole group. Even I have trouble holding back amusement.
Logan adds, “So next time you’re here, we’ll arrange it.”
“Is that a request or an order?” I ask, torn between annoyance at his presumption and a resigned kind of amusement.
“What do you think?” He almost, almost smiles. I’ve never seen him do that before.
I shake my head and turn around before he sees me smile back.
Damn Logan.
He might not be as heartless as I used to believe, but he’ll be bossy until the end.
