Page 66 of We Redeemed the Rain

Did I want my journey to stay my own? Or was music important enough to sign my freedom away? I couldn’t breathe without music—I knew that. But if I moved forward without the label, music would, by necessity, be relegated to a side hustle. And for the first time in my entire life, I’d need a nine to five.

Buzz.

Is that what I wanted?

Missed call.

I exhaled a sigh of relief.

TWENTY

Dear Strings,

I wish I knew what to write. Sitting here at my desk, I feel useless. Words can’t mend these kinds of wounds. They have no warm arms to wrap you in. No ears to hear you vent. No smile to brighten your day. No presence to sit with you in the waiting.

But I’m hoping somehow, despite the limits of this page, your heart will still hear mine.

I wish I was with you.

As much as I’ve walked through, I’ve never had to watch a loved one waste away. I can’t begin to imagine how much the worry hurts.

About your question…I don’t know, Strings. I want to answer honestly and not just write what I think you want to hear. But the truth is, I don’t know if miracles are real. I hope they are, but I’ve never seen one with my own eyes. More often than not, I find that life is cruel and anytime it can smack us down, it will.

But, one thing gives me hope—the love your family has.

If there’s anything that can conjure up the miraculous, it’s love. And your family has it. Let that encourage you. I’ve never seen miracles, but I’ve never felt love, either. So maybe miracles are accessible to people like you—people worthy of them, people who’ve tapped into that channel of giving and receiving the most powerful force on earth.

Your family has what it takes to see the impossible. And I believe with everything I am that Peter has a fighting chance. If it’s possible for heaven and earth to move, they’ll move for you.

I love the new song you’ve written for your family. Thank you for sharing such personal lyrics with me. Peter will love it, too. I hesitate to give you advice on this one, because I think it’s important for you to follow your heart. When you sing for him, say everything you want to say. Forget meter, rhythm, rules. Forget poetry, imagery, and symbolism. Techniques don’t matter right now.

The line from the second verse, “we bloomed in and out of season.” That is perfect. And that’s exactly what I was writing about above. Only people who love deeply can know what it means to thrive when everything in the world is against them. To dive roots into cold ground and reach for the sun. To bloom when they’re not even supposed to.

Don’t change a single word. It’s the song your family needs right now.

Sing from your heart, Strings. Hope and beauty shines within you. It’s so bright, I can see it all the way from Texas. You can’t go wrong letting what’s inside pour out on the people you love. Even while this season is really hard, your music will lift them. Just like it has lifted me.

Please write soon. I am waiting with you, hoping for Peter’s miracle.

Thinking of you constantly.

Scribbs

P.S. Thank you for the new birthday bracelet. Let’s see if this one can last me to twenty.

TWENTY-ONE

Tag

“Tag?” Bea’s voice called from somewhere in the barnyard.

“In the garage!” I called back.

All things considered, things were going fine. After dinner last night, I went back out and worked till about ten thirty. The days were long, but I could get through alright until Jesse got back, assuming nothing terrible happened.

I had just finished mucking stalls and was doing some quick maintenance under the Ranger. Pretty easy fix, turned out. Good thing, because my mechanical knowledge was limited to routine maintenance and basics.

A few long moments passed before Bea’s light footsteps entered. My upper body was under the truck. I turned my head, glancing out. Got an eyeful of Bea’s legs, which looked unnaturally long given our current angle. Her makeshift shorts were riding up a bit. She looked down at me. Her round eyes sad, missing their usual cheer. To my dismay, they looked a little red. A little glassy.

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