magic Nephilim 5: Never Underestimate

[rockhopper]

This is the last of this series that I finished for the old site. I was particularly glad I was able to incorporate my love of music into this chapter.

 

I started chapter six several years ago and abandoned it. I came back to it this week. I tweaked it a bit and think I may have figured out where to go with it. I hope it will be posted to the main Stories page soon.

 

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Apparently eternity is not forever, even for immortals.

 

I had grown in so many ways: grown in wisdom and in power. Tasks that I once could only do with a great deal of effort were now on a whim. And as I had grown, my beloved Adam and I had grown apart.

 

It was totally amicable. We didn't have a screaming fight. No one was hurt. No solar systems were destroyed. I just needed time and space. Adam and I had been apart very little since he brought me over, but it was different now. When our kind greet each other, we make love in a way in which one is momentarily absorbed into the other. I felt almost like I had lost myself.

 

On the other hand, it's not like I could resume my old life—well not easily. After all, as far as the world was concerned, Peter Hooper had died that night nearly ten years ago when Adam had made me immortal. Or vanished, at the very least. So I travelled a lot.

 

I was walking in the Downtown area of a large Midwestern city. I was kind of down. Okay, if I had let me mood manifest itself as weather, it would have been raining pretty hard.

 

And then I heard it.

 

To call this sound the voice of an angel would be a cliché, but, speaking as someone who has been mistaken for an angel at least once, I think it was a fair assessment.

 

I heard a tenor voice so clear and so beautiful that I really did begin to cry. I had to see where this sound was coming from. Standing on the sidewalk, not far from me was a young man. The only instrument present was his incredible voice, which he was using to present an incredible array of musical offerings: opera, sacred classical, Broadway, pop standards. His wasn't a heavy, wobbly voice like the overrated, overplayed operatic überstars have. This was the kind of voice you hear from the very best tenor soloist you've ever heard at the finest Early Music concert ever held: The kind of voice a boy treble grows up to have if he's really lucky. Most people just passed him, paying little attention—although a few would throw small amounts of money in the hat that sat in front of him. A few gathered to hear him.

 

As I got closer I took a good look at him. He was about 24 and might be described as a “scruffy puppy”. He had short, dark hair, already showing signs of thinning, a day or two's growth on his face and, judging by his hands, would say that there would be fuzzy hair in many places. He was compact and solid—neither thin, fat, nor enormously muscular, though certainly nicely built for his size. He had a cherubic expression on his face, keeping with his angelic voice.

 

I had lost track of time. I had been standing before him for about fifteen minutes. He looked up at me and said “Hello.”

 

I was shaken from my reverie. “Hi!” I smiled. He and I were both wearing pullover sweaters, but I guess mine was tight enough that he could see what was underneath. He seemed to like it, though even after all these years of immortality, I'm still not used to that. “Thank you for singing for us,” I said as I produced (literally) a twenty dollar bill from my pocket. “Where do you sing?”

 

He sighed. “Mostly right here.”

 

“What? That's criminal! You should be...”

 

“I know,” he interrupted. “But that's show biz!” He shrugged and smiled. “Maybe if I sing about warm weather, It will warm up.” He began singing “Summertime”.

 

This young man, Jeremy was his name—he had wanted to tell me, but felt shy, not knowing I already knew it--affected me in a way that no one had for a very long time. I smiled at him, winked, and walked on. I went to the hotel where I had rented a room for a few days, thinking about Jeremy the whole way.

 

As I turned on the lights in my room, a familiar voice said. “Jeremy, is it?”

 

“Adam!” I was shocked. This was the first time I had seen him since we had parted. In a way it was like seeing him for the first time. That face. That body. But I was also quite surprised to see him. “What are you doing here?”

 

“I'm still very concerned for your welfare, dear,” He took me in his arms and kissed me. “So tell me about Jeremy.”

 

“You know what I know. Actually, you probably know more.”

 

He smiled and nodded. “And why do you think Jeremy has affected you so powerfully?”

“He's not one of us, Adam! I know that!”

“Not yet, anyway.”

 

“He will be someday?”

Adam nodded. “You could say that.”

 

“Oh. Are you going to...” Adam and I may have parted company, but the idea of him finding someone else stung a little.

 

“No. You are.”

 

“What?”

 

“He is the next young man born to become one of us.”

“Born to become one of us?”

“As were you, as was I.”

 

“So why am I...” I began.

 

“You know. You have met him once and you feel connected to him in a way you've only connected with our kind.”

 

“So how do I...”

 

Adam interrupted again. “Get him to come up here and transform him. Do whatever it takes. He's your responsibility, as you were mine, as I was Jake's.”

 

I stood agape. “Whatever it takes? Use my powers? That hardly seems fair.”

“Fair? When I transformed you I implanted memories of myself in your head, arranged things so you could leave work early, spent days in tight T-shirts and jeans, bounced my pecs every time you looked in their direction, turned you into a penguin and suspended the existence of your next-door neighbour. What in heaven's name makes you think you have to play fair?”

 

“Adam, don't scare the poor boy,” came another voice.

 

“Jake!” I smiled. Jake also embraced and kissed me.

 

“Peter, Jeremy is your responsibility, but you can only be who you are. Yes, you must transform him, but do it in a way that you're comfortable.”

 

“Jake...” Adam began. Now was his turn to be interrupted.

 

“Adam!” Jake glared at him with a stare that would wither a whole city (literally). “Peter will not let us down. And he'll do it his way. And you wear tight T-shirts and bounce your pecs all the time!”

 

Adam and Jake stared at each other. I was scared stiff. Either one of them pretty much could undo reality with a thought. I held my breath. Jake and Adam both smiled, their beautiful faces lighting up, and began laughing heartily, embraced each other and kissed passionately. Jake turned to me and smiled. “Peter, bring Jeremy here and you'll know what to do. I think Adam and I need—some time.” He kissed me.

 

Adam smiled at me also. “Don't underestimate the power of simple persuasion, Peter.” Then, winking, he added, “And never underestimate the power of bouncing pecs!” as he demonstrated his considerable talent in that area. And with that, he and Jake disappeared.

 

The next day, I walked along the same place and there was Jeremy again offering his singing to whoever would listen. When I approached, he looked up and smiled. When he finished his song, he said “I'm gonna take a break!” and picked up his hat.

 

We walked over to a nearby bench and sat down. “I'm Jeremy,” he smiled.

 

“I know—that is, I've heard. I'm Peter.”

 

“Peter. Nice to meet you.”

“I have to tell you how much I love to hear you sing. I used to sing a little—choral stuff mostly—but your voice is incredible!”

 

“Thanks. I've got my bachelor's and master's in vocal performance and I'm still making a living singing on street corners. It's really hard, but I try to stay optimistic. It will happen.”

 

“Yes. It will. Beyond your wildest dreams.”

Jeremy laughed. “Peter, you're a trip. Listen, would you like to get together sometime?”

Okay, I'm scheming to get him up to my place and he asks me out? “Of course, but, please, it will be on me.”

 

Jeremy started to protest, but he realised there was no point in that argument. We went to dinner, during which Jeremy opened up so much to me. His parents pretty much turned him out for being gay, but he was so talented that he had no trouble finding funding for his education. After his master's was finished, he had some work, but, for some reason, he had trouble putting a living together and had to turn to street performance. He was cagey about where he was living, though I don't think he was on the streets. After dinner he said, “I'd like to ask you back to my place, but, well, could we go to your place instead?”

When we arrived at my hotel room, he was a little puzzled. “So you don't really live here?”

“Not really. I've sort of been travelling around for a while.”

“Must be nice to have the money to do that!”

“Well, it's not exactly money,” I smiled.

 

He nodded. “Why do I have the feeling that there's a lot more to you, Peter, than a cute face and nice body?”

 

“You could say that. Have a seat.” We both sat on the bed. “Remember when the waiter gave me the check at the restaurant?”

 

“You paid it—no wait! He gave you the little folder, you snapped your fingers, smiled and looked at him and he said 'Thank you very much' and we didn't see him again.”

 

Smiling, I said to him. “You're a lot more astute than I was, Jeremy. You see, I'm not human.”

 

He stared rapt. “Go on.”

 

“I'm of a race of super-human beings who have existed since the dawn of humanity, caring for it and preserving it.”

 

“Are you that old?”

I laughed. “I'm only about ten years older than I look. Adam—the one who transformed me--and Jake—who transformed him—are much, much older.”

“So what can you do?”

 

“Pretty much whatever I want.”

“Are you talking telepathy and telekinesis? Or more like super-strength? Super-breath? X-ray vision? Shape-shifting? Creating matter?”

 

Could he actually believe this? “All of the above, really! Do you need a demonstration?”
 

The smile on his face was about the same as you would see on that of a four-year-old on Christmas morning. “I don't think I need one, but I sure wouldn't say no!”

“Take my hand!” In the next instant, I was flying Jeremy over the city as he let out a squeal. “Where shall we go?”

 

“Ah, Paris?”

“An excellent choice!” Within a minute we were soaring over the Eiffel Tower. “Ever want to be a bird?” He smiled broadly and then he and I were falcons. We flew around a while and I let him know we should get back to my room. Presently we were and were in our regular forms again.

 

Jeremy kissed me, his scruffy beard, pressing against my goatee. “Oh, Peter! My whole life I've dreamt of someone like you! You're incredible! Man! This will sound funny, but if you can bounce your pecs you'll be perfect!”

 

I guess Adam was right. “You mean like this?” I said, as the boys did their little dance under my sweater.”

 

“Cool! I can sort of do that.” His quivered a bit. “Wow! This is too much!”

“Well, Jeremy, there's more. Some men are born to join us. And I understand you're one.”

 

He became silent. “Me?”

 

“Yes. You.”

 

We were then floating in the night sky, unclothed. He saw me in my immortal body and was at first slightly ashamed of his mortal, though certainly not unimpressive, body. I gestured and he floated over to me and we embraced. As we kissed, he smiled to me and said. “Yes, Peter. I have no life down there. But to let you know, it's not so much the powers.” He looked at my chest. “Or even your pecs. It's you. You are the sweetest person I've ever met. You could have taken advantage of me a million times over and yet you didn't.” He kissed me. “Let's do this!”

I kissed him again and then, as Adam had done to me so long ago, I breathed into him. As I did, perhaps it was Jeremy's musical nature, but I began to hear something familiar. I soon recognised it as the final movement of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony. It came from both of us and all around. As I let him go, the music crescendoed and he doubled over almost into the foetal position for a split second and then he bloomed. He flexed in a double-biceps pose and every muscle in his body filled in. Muscle flowed over muscle under the thick hair that still covered much of his body, as a symbol of the power that grew in him. His face, already beautiful in the extreme, became almost painful to look at in its beauty, complete with the three day's growth of his beard. And in the moment of his transformation, came the chorus of the symphony from every pore of his being: “Freude, schöner Götterfunken,Tochter aus Elysium,
Wir betreten feuer-trunken,Himmlische, dein Heiligtum!” came forth in four parts, proclaiming the birth of the new Jeremy.

 

He flexed his new muscles, revelling in his new eternal youth, beauty and power—and,yes, he bounced his pecs in time with the chorus that continued. I smiled at him and called him over.

And, in the manner of our kind, I greeted him, bringing him into a physical and spiritual congress no mortal could imagine. And, in the manner of our kind, I brought him into myself for a moment. There was no Jeremy. There was only Peter as I briefly consumed his existence within my own, only to have him bubble up within me and reemerge, as had been done to me by every other immortal I had met. And in that I understood so much about myself. I wasn't lost in being absorbed. I was joined with my kind. I was with Adam, Jake, Lars, Jeremy and all the others, for all time. Particular relationships may wax and wane, but the commonality remains.

 

Jeremy looked at me and said, “Oh, Peter! Thank you! I guess I don't have to worry about finding a job now.”

“No, my sweet. You never have to worry again.” We kissed and I added “Never underestimate the power of love.”