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"Nobody knows where you are, how near or how far. Shine on you crazy diamond. Pile on many more layers and I’ll be joining you there. Shine on you crazy diamond. And we’ll bask in the shadow of yesterday’s triumph, and sail on the steel breeze. Come on you boy-child, you winner and loser, Come on you miner for truth and delusion, and shine" - Pink Floyd "Shine On You Crazy Diamond (pt 6-9)" ------------------ 3: Wish You Were Here In with the dawn of the morning wafts a wind pungent with flowers and dew. The light dances across my eyelids, turning them from red to black. When I open them, it is blinding. And the voices and the spirits of the night become dead to me. Groaning, I close my eyes and roll onto my side, away from the window. Red goes to black, and slumber reaches for me. "Come on, Flea! Rise and shine!" comes a voice from the doorway, and a rapping on its frame. Sleep drops me like I’m a leper, and I scowl. Then look over my shoulder to find Dave smirking at me. Damn guy unlocked my door again with a bobby pin! "Anthony and Chad are ready to go." "Good for them," I mutter, and flop onto the floor. I clamour about on my hands and knees, finding a pair of jeans at the foot of the bed. I flip onto my back and start to pull on the pants. Dave chuckles to himself. "What?" I mumble, gazing up at him. "Do you really think you need to wear two pairs of pants today?" Dave laughs, and I look to my legs. I forgot that I never changed out of my jeans from yesterday. Shrugging, I get to my feet. Guess I’m ready to go. I stumble into the recording room downstairs, just behind Dave. Chad looks up from his magazine with a deer-in-the-headlights expression. "Well good f***in’ morning!" Anthony greets us. He’s swirling about the room with his arms floating around him. He sweeps him mic off the stand and swings it by its chord. "We ready to record ‘Aeroplane’?" "Hell yeah!" Chad replied, flinging his magazine over his shoulder. "Let’s get on with it!" I smile and nod as I head for the window, against which my bass is resting. I look outside and see the trees and the grass thrashing about. But I know that it’s the wind. Right now, it’s only the wind. I take up my bass and tune it. Then turn around. And I jump. My bass clunks to my feet. "Holy sh**!" "Flea, what’s the matter?" Anthony’s voice is so distant. His presence pales to that of the bony figure sitting on the floor, back against the far wall. Brown hair springs out in every direction all about his head like a dark halo. Wide, chocolate toned eyes steadily watch me, ones full of excitement and curiousity and... and LIFE! "Flea?" Dave’s hand rests on my shoulder, and I scream. We both jump. "What’s wrong?" he asks me, then gazes at the floor space where I’ve been staring. He shakes his head. I glance about the room, at Chad, then at Anthony. Both are looking where I am. Both are also shaking their heads. "Flea, what are you looking at?" Anthony finally asks me. From his spot on the floor, John smiles at me. And I pick up my bass from off the floor. "We ready to record?" I look to each of the current Chilis as I ask the question. Dave scratches his head. Chad furrows his eyebrows. Anthony just shrugs. "All right, let’s go then." I haven’t played in front of John in a long time. Not in a long, LONG time. And never could I say it was FOR him. But, this time, it was. And, as I lay into the bass on the chorus, I hear John speaking. Calling to me, crying out. Not in words though. In music. He’s strumming an acoustic guitar, and I am privileged to be the only one to hear it. To watch as his lips curl and his eyes squeeze shut, as his spirit flows into the instrument. I am the only one to see him shine. I close my eyes and thump out the final chords. Then Chad exclaims, "Holy sh**, Flea!" "Yeah, man!" Anthony chimes in. "That was beautiful!" "Damn amazing," Dave adds. When I open my eyes, John is no longer sitting across from me. I know before I even look. I can feel his breath, his pneuma, brushing across my neck. Glancing outside, I watch as the trees sway and know it not to be just the wind. ‘John is alive,’ I think with a smile. I don’t know what will happen tomorrow, how long he will remain a prisoner of the spirits as his physical body breaks down. Or how long he will shut himself off from the world. Or even when I will see him again, in body AND spirit. But I know he will continue to shine, some way, somehow. My smile fades as I stare at that empty, EMPTY spot on the floor. For now, I am the only one to see him. The only one who recognises the spirit world. While John lives deeply entwined within it, I am alone. ------------------ "So, so you think you can tell heaven from hell, blue skies from pain Can you tell a green filed from a cold steel rail? A smile from a veil, Do you think you can tell? And did they get you to trade your heroes for ghosts? Hot ashes for trees? Hot air for a cool breeze? Cold comfort for change? And did you exchange a walk on part in the war for a lead role in a cage? How I wish, How I wish you were here. We’re just two lost souls swimming in a fishbowl, year after year Running over the same old ground. What have we found? The same old fears Wish you were here" - Pink Floyd "Wish You Were Here" ------------------ Note: The idea for the last chapter came from something that actually happened to Pink Floyd. Their original lead singer, Syd Barrett, left after two years with the band. He has schizophrenia, and his drug use aggravated it. While the band made a few albums without him, Syd lived as a recluse in London. When Pink Floyd came into the studio to record the song "Shine On You Crazy Diamond" for their upcoming album, Wish You Were Here, Syd showed up unannounced. They didn’t even recognize him at first. He was bald, and he had shaved off his eyebrows. They had also not seen him for seven years. Roger Waters, the front man of Floyd at the time, said it was like seeing a ghost. Syd is the basis for the main character in The Wall movie, and he inspired much of the band’s later works, especially that of Roger. After recording The Wall, Roger left the band as well. He still felt like Syd’s spirit remained with him and could no longer perform music like that. Since then, he has done some solo work. As for Syd, he walked from London to Cambridge, where he now lives shut out from the rest of the world in his apartment. |