Two Souls: Into the Fire # 163
TWO SOULS: INTO THE FIRE
As Steve drove down the highway to the house, he was worrying about how to record the songs he’d written. “Ghost, I don’t know if I can get these done. It’s just…I don’t know. I like the songs, and when I wrote them, it was exactly what I was feeling. I still feel that way, but how do I get it back, to transfer those feelings to the CD?” he sighed.
“The other time, for the tape we made, those were more for fun songs, ya know. It was easy. But these ones, well crap…I just don’t know how to do it. Maybe I should just forget it…put some other, older songs on there, and keep these ones for just us.”
“Don’t worry, Steve,” Ghost said. “Don’t think so hard on it. You’ll see.”
“But, you do it all the time…at home, at the shows…how do you go from everyday business, to singing with such total emotion that brings people right into your world?”
“I don’t know, Steve, it just happens. If I’m happy, I sing it that way. If the words make me feel sad, it comes out sad,” Ghost said. “You have to actually listen to the words you wrote, and hear the meaning you meant at the time. It all comes back, when you sing them, as when you wrote them.”
“Thanks, Ghost, I think I see what you mean, and I’m gonna try my best, anyway.”
They arrived home, and unloaded the equipment. It was late afternoon, now, and Ghost fixed them a light supper of cheese omelets and toast, while Steve set up the recorder, and got his guitar out. He went over the words to the songs, and played some chords. He was beginning to remember how he felt when he wrote them.
“Come eat, Steve,” Ghost said, looking into the living room. He knew Steve was getting it.
After their meal, they went outside for awhile. Ghost stood at the porch railing, looking up into the sky, which was turning a velvety purple. The sun was throwing it’s last rays of light onto the very tops of the pines. Below was already into twilight. He took deep breaths of the cool, pine scented air.
“It’s nice out,” he said.
“Yeah, I love this time of the year,” said Steve.
“Me, too, but why is it a time?” Ghost asked.
“Huh? Oh, that’s just a way of saying that right now is what you like…like the fall weather. There really isn’t a time, like on a clock.”
“Well, I don’t get it, except that everything flows from one thing to the next, on and on, forever. You don’t have to keep a time,” Ghost said.
“You’re right,” Steve said.
Ghost shivered, and came to sit beside Steve on the porch swing. “Forever more, Steve, forever more,” he whispered into the night.
They stayed there, slowly swinging back and forth for awhile…until Steve felt ready to try the songs.
“I’m bringing the equipment out here,” Steve said. He went inside, and ran the electric cords, so they extended out the window to the porch. With his guitar, he sat back on the swing. Ghost just watched him, as he held the microphone.
On most of these last songs, Ghost only sang on parts of them. He could feel that Steve felt more at ease. It was a calm, starry night, and many times before, they’d sang to each other out here. It was cozy and intimate, just the two of them being together like this.
Steve played a bit of the tune, then nodded at Ghost, as he flipped on the machine, beginning the first song. It was *”Stars”. This song he’d written long ago, when Ghost was gone away…he thought forever. It was him, pouring out his anguish and despair…and now, singing it to Ghost, with Ghost, under these same stars, brought out his emotions so strong, his voice broke several times.
Ghost was crying at the end of it. He’d heard parts of the song before, but only now could he feel exactly what Steve had felt at the time. It brought back so many memories. He was having a hard time getting control of his emotions, and put his head in his hands and sobbed.
“Ghost…” Steve whispered. “Ghost…please…” He went over and held Ghost close. “It’s ok, Ghost…let it out….” Steve murmured into Ghost’s hair. He knew Ghost had never completely dealt with his pain. After awhile his crying slowed.
“Steve, I can’t…I can’t do this…the other songs…it’s too much,” he said.
“Ghost, I know it’s hard, but I need you to do this…with me.”
“But, Steve, I don’t deserve your beautiful songs…I just don’t”
Steve was surprised to hear Ghost say that. “Ghost, don’t ever think that. I just wrote what I felt, and to me it’s not nearly enough. You deserve my whole love for you, and so much more. Can’t you see that?”
Ghost was shaking his head.
“Look at me,” Steve said. “Believe it, babe, ’cause I meant every word.” He kissed Ghost’s tears away.
They took a small break, then began the next song, *”Perfect”. This one was easier, as they’d worked on it a few times, getting their parts in order. They got through it fairly quickly, and the rest of them went well, too. By the time all the songs were finished, it was almost dawn, and Steve’s voice was about gone. They went inside, had a bowl of cereal, and crashed into bed, hoping for a few hours of sleep.
However, it seemed like no time had passed, when there was a loud knocking on their door. Steve got up, and opened the front door. It was R. J.
“What?” Steve asked.
“Dude, Terry’s waiting for y’all. He couldn’t call ’cause your phone is broke. He ordered me to come and drag y’all into the studio.”
“Shit, we aren’t even awake yet, R. J. He’s just gonna have to wait. We’ll be in as soon as we can. Go tell Terry we finished all the songs…we were up all night.”
“Okay, Steve, but hurry,” R. J. said.
Steve went to wake Ghost. “We gotta get up and get over there,” Steve said, on his way to the bathroom.
Ghost rolled out of bed, and stumbled into the kitchen, to make coffee.
“What are you doing?” Steve asked, as he came into the kitchen. “We don’t have time for that. We’ll get a coffee at the store, when we get to town.”
“They aren’t going anywhere…they’ll wait,” Ghost said, through a big yawn.
“Fine, I’ll load up, but try to hurry.”
But, Ghost never got in a hurry. He fed Spirit, and went to get dressed. Steve clomped back into the house, straight to Ghost and propelled him toward the door. “Come on, everything is loaded up,” he said. “I don’t want Terry to wait too long. R. J. said he was getting impatient, already.”
“R. J. was here?”
“Yep, Terry sent him out here. I really need to get another phone.”
Finally in the car, barreling down the highway toward town, Ghost asked, “Hey, how come we never used to have a phone, and we did ok, but now when we had one, and then we don’t have it, it gets hard to not have one?”
“What? Oh, I get it,” Steve answered. “Guess you don’t miss what you don’t have, at first, then when you have it, then it’s gone, you feel like you need it.” He looked over at Ghost. “What the hell did I just say? I swear, Ghost, I’m starting to sound like you.”
Ghost grinned. “Yeah, and I understand you a lot better, now.”
“Well, good, ’cause I don’t,” Steve said.
He pulled up in front of the convenience store, and ran in to get them some coffee. Then driving over to the studio, he turned off the car’s engine, and took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves.
“All this rushing around got me all jangly.”
“You need your coffee, then. It’ll calm you down,” Ghost said. He took a huge swallow of his own hot coffee.
“I doubt that,” Steve said, but he drank his down in only a couple of mouthfuls. “Let’s get this stuff inside,” he said.
They lugged in the recording equipment, then turned to find Terry and R. J. staring at them. “Well, look who showed up,” Terry said. “Sleeping beauties get all rested?
“Don’t start, Terry,” Steve said. “We were up all night…everything’s finished. Now, it’s you and R. J.’s time to go to work.” He began going over what needed to be done.
“I know, I know, just ragging on ya, Dude,” Terry said.
*”Stars”, as performed by Amanda Brown on the Voice, written by Grace Potter (Grace Potter and the Nocturnals), released 2012, on the label Hollywood, from the album “The Lion the Beast the Beat”
*”Fuckin’ Perfect”, Pink, written by Pink – Max Martin – Shellback, released Dec 14, 2010, label LaFace – RCA, single from the album “Greatest Hits…So Far!!!”
Next part coming soon!
Thanks for visiting! Peace ☮️
© 2019 BS
This is a work of “fan fiction” based on the novel, “Lost Souls” by Poppy Z. Brite. All credit for the original characters, places, and some backstory mentions, belong to Ms. Brite and her publishing affiliates. Only newly introduced characters, places, and original elements of this story are entirely from my imagination. Character descriptions are a blend of the original book descriptions and my interpretation of them.
All songs included in this work will be solely owned by the original performers/writers and will be credited. Creative license is taken in including them in this story.
No harm is intended toward author, musicians, or people and situations to whom there may be a resemblance.
warning warning warning warning
The content herein is rated by me as being at the high end of MA (Mature Audience). It includes strong language, violence, sexual themes, including same sex pairings, religious themes, and fantasy horror.