Chapter 1.1 - As if Singing 1 (2/2)

“Huhuhu…”

I found myself laughable.

Wanting to sing, not wanting ensembles – leaving like that, talking big and failing without being able to do anything.

Suddenly, I thought of Don Quijote.

A scene of a fat man who had never worked out discussing nobility of the knights, charging at a windmill.

After that, I spent a few months isolated at home. Even then, there was no-one contacting me.

Ensemble, opera, musical – none of them.

I guess it was the result of me not forming relationships but… I just felt self-deprecation flow out. What was funnier, was that when the bank account started to empty out, I crawled out of the house.

Still had to eat and live so I had to sing. But still, I couldn’t re-enter the ensembles and operas who already knew my face. My worthless pride wouldn’t allow that.

Because that would be humiliating.

So I went around singing anywhere possible.

“Wow. You’re really too good at singing… Are you a singer?”

“Somewhat I guess…”

Wedding anthems, church songs, a song at a party, a vocal trainer… I even went to a temple to sing. A life of singing like a machine to bring food to the mouth.

It felt as if I had become a jukebox – a machine where a press of a button resulted in a song. That kind of soulless singing.

Without much practising, just going out for drinks and mucking around, living as a human jukebox.

One day

It was Christmas Eve.

A white Christmas Eve filled with falling snow.

Sparkling lights of blue and red, holograms would fill the sides of the roads, and churches would be filled with beautiful ringing sound as people gathered.

Happy night with smiles on everyone’s faces.

I went up to where the choirs sat in the church after having a massive drink with acquaintances.

– I thought you were singing at a church today? I am? And yet you’re drinking? It’s alright, it’s alright, how packed is my experience? Kuk kuk, crazy bastard. Drink up.

Such a conversation took place, I think.

Trying hard to clear the head from the spinning due to alcohol, I stood up when it was my turn to sing.

Hearing that I was formerly from an ensemble, the church gave me a solo part. Of course, there would be money so I accepted it readily.

Eyes of hundreds of believers filling the church gathered on me who slowly walked up. But I was drunk enough to not even realise that.

‘Ah freakin… I wanna go home.’

While having such thoughts, I habitually opened the score. The title immediately entered the eye.

Holy Night. Cantique de Noel.

It was a song inside my repertory. It was a famous Christmas song after all. Opera and Christianity were hard to separate and thus was a song already mastered. As the body remembered, I opened my mouth. I couldn’t even feel what words were coming out of my mouth but… the trained body was faithful.

Even the forgotten tone and sound was immediately brought forth after receiving the score.

“O night. This holy night.”

Yes, it was somewhere along these lines. A holy song celebrating the birth of Jesus. I bellowed the words of that song drunk. Gazing at the hundreds of silent believers focused on me with dizzy eyes, I acted out an experienced opera singer.

It wasn’t hard.

I had a body type where it was hard to tell whether I was drunk or not. And besides, although I wasn’t a protestant, I had been a catholic so mimicking a believer was simple.

The climax.

I read the score, as is, like a machine. FF? You mean scream real hard right? Judging from how the bean sprout is hanging high up, it is a pretty high note.

It was not a problem. I just had to close the vocal chord, increase the subglottal pressure, widen the resonating chamber inside the mouth and amplify. That alone was enough for the air to have the intense pressure needed to vibrate the church.

“This night–!”

At an instant, I emptied the lungs of all breath and closed the mouth.

Silence.

The music faded and the silent church was soon filled with a loud clapping sound and after staring at that scene with dead-fish eyes, I returned back to my seat.

‘My part’s finished… Can I just go home?’

Letting go of everything in my mind, the time passed steadily and soon the worship was over.

I casually wore the jacket and faced outside when a little shadow entered my eyes. When I subconsciously turned my eyes there, there was an old lady slowly approaching.

An old lady with evidence of the passing of time apparent.

A rough red scarf. A white piece of cloth enveloping the lifeless hair. Hands full of wrinkles.

Raising those shivering hands, she firmly grabbed my arms and while I was surprised, the old lady slowly looked up.

Her eyeballs covered with white coating could be seen. The old lady stared straight at me with those eyes and smiled happily.

“Sir your hymn… it was really… really good. Thank you… I feel very… very blessed.”

Even after looking around carefully, there was no-one next to her – there was only the old lady holding a cane with shivering arms.

Christmas Eve. On that night when the church’s greatest festival is happening, this old lady who had trouble walking was standing by herself… My heart was heavy after guessing the rough situation.

I was about to open my mouth but decided against it. I just closed my eyes and lowered the head. That was the only reply I could show.

If I opened my mouth, the smell of alcohol would naturally escape.

To a person who had liked the song of a pathetic person like me… I couldn’t possibly tell her that it was a song sung half-heartedly after drinking.

The old lady who had been grabbing my hands with her quivering hands slowly returned back home after saying goodbye several times, slowly carrying herself with her cane.

I who was staring at that back

Was enveloped by the desire to throw up.

With a stern face, I opened the church door and left. The cold December wind fluttered the clothes, as the severe downfall of snow reflected the lights from the holograms and shined. From within the snowfall, I looked around but no matter where my eyes faced, I could not find where that old lady had gone.

After a while of staring at the passersby.

I just walked.

The slow strides soon turned to fast paces and finally broke into a sprint.

The bright background melted away and disappeared. The road turned dark after running for a bit and my face exposed to the cold wind felt like it could be separated.

“Haa… haa…”

The body not used to exercise screamed out, and the toes were freezing as if the snow had entered the shoes. The stomach ruined by the alcohol forced the acid upward.

“Ahhhh…”

It feels like something was boiling within – a hot something. The feelings that had been sedimented black were blazing red with fire. The sound exploded out without me holding it in.

“Aahhhhh!”

Slip, the foot slid on the ice. The foot that had kicked the ground flew up reaching the sky and the whole body tilted backward.

Kung. The back of the head smashed the ground just like that.

“Ah!”

The mind started to blank out from the concussion.

The cold ice under the body felt distant and just like that, with arms wide open, I lied down.

‘It’s surprisingly comfortable.’

Through the dizzy eyes, the snow falling out of the sky could be seen. Now that I think about it, it has been a while since I looked up at the sky.

When I stared quietly, I could see clouds filling the night sky, as well as stars shining through ever so slightly. And suppressing the stars as well as the likes of clouds, a full moon annoyingly bright entered my eyes.

And under that moon, I saw a swinging bell on top of a church tower.

The vision slowly blurred away and the sound of the bell marking 12 o’clock was faintly heard.

Ring~

Ring~

It was Christmas.