a song to remember

8/8/2019 a song to remember

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A SONG TO REMEMBER

Bill woke up with a song running through his head. He

shaved, showered, dressed, and it was still there, humming

away.

It was a tune from somewhere, but he couldn’t place it.

He knew the melody but the words escaped him. Something,

something, “You’ll be mine forever,” and that was all he couldremember. He went to work with it still playing in his head.

Everybody was in the lunchroom for their ten o’clock

break, gathered into small groups, chatting about whatever.

Bill was together with Ralph and Lois like always. This was

really the only time they had together except for payday

Fridays when they’d get together at the Deluxe Bar and Grill

and drink themselves stupid.

Bill interrupted Ralph’s synopses of last Sunday’s footballgames. “Hey, let me throw something at you,” he said.

Ralph shrugged. “Throw away. It’s obvious I’m not

getting anywhere trying to impress Lois with my expertise on

sports.”

Lois laughed and jabbed Ralph playfully.

“There’s this song that’s been running around in my head.

I know it from somewhere but I’ll be damned if I can remember

the words.”

Lois smiled. “So hum it for us.”Bill cleared his throat and put his voice into a falsetto.

He’d gotten through about four bars when Ralph held up his

hand.

“Whoa, man! Enough! Any song sounding like that the DJ

would have broken the record and tossed it into the trash!”

“Sorry,” Bill said, “I’m not the greatest on carrying a tune.”

“Wait!” Lois said. “I know that song! I’ve heard it --” she



frowned “-- somewhere.”

Bill looked at her expectantly. “Do you remember the

words?”“Something, something ‘You’ll be mine forever’,

something.”

Bill sighed. “Yeah, I got that part, too. What else?”

“That’s it,” she frowned and then her eyebrows went up.

“You bastard! Now you’ve got it running through my head!”

Ralph laughed. “So what have we got now? A duet?”

The buzzer went off and they all went off to their separate

cubicles.

About four Lois rang Bill on the intercom.“I think I’ve got it!”

“Got what?”

“That stupid song you cursed me with!” She laughed.

“I’m writing it down as it comes to me. Meet me after work in

the parking lot. I’ll give you what I’ve got and maybe that’ll

get the stupid thing out of my head.”

Bill ran down the steps and searched for Lois’s car. Bright

red Volvo with big purple flower decals on the sides. Prettyhard to miss. There it was, over on the far left. He walked up to

it and sat on the hood and waited. The others all came out

and made their exits. In ten minutes all that was left was his car

and Lois’s. He finally went back inside to check. The office was

empty. Bill frowned. What happened to her?

He drove back to his apartment and wished he could call

her, but Lois never gave out her phone number to anybody.

“Too many creeps around,” she said. The song kept running

through his head. Damn.

The next morning it was still there. Bill threw his razor into

the sink and banged the medicine cabinet. “This is stupid! This

is just damn stupid!”

He went to the office half an hour earlier than usual. He

hoped Simpson was there. Simpson was the office brainiac.

Knew everything about everything. Nobody liked talking to



him, because anything you said he knew volumes more about.

Simpson was also an early bird. Usually the first one at the

office.He looked up from his computer. “Bill?”

“Hi,” Bill said simply. He saw Simpson had one of his

homemade sandwiches which were to die for. Everyday a

different culinary masterpiece. “Listen, I’ve got this little

problem --”

Simpson set down his sandwich. “And?”

“It’s going to sound silly, but I’ve had this song running

through my head for the past two days and I can’t seem to get

rid of it.”“That’s not good.”

Bill blinked. “It’s not?”

Simpson sat back. “You ever hear of Pythagoras?”

“Pytha-who?”

“Pythagoras. Ancient Greek. Athenian, actually. Very

involved in mathematics. He believed everything in the

universe was somehow explainable by math -- the planets, the

stars, people. Life itself. He even analyzed music and found it

too had mathematics which could affect our existence. We just look at music as an emotional experience -- makes us feel

happy or sad or restful or anxious. Pythagoras saw more than

that. He felt music was so powerful that if the tones were set at

the exact mathematical ratios it could actually kill a person.”

Bill blinked. “Kill?”

Simpson nodded. “Some events must have happened

that proved his theory, because music soon became very

regulated. There were only certain ways melodies could be

formed and only certain words allowed to go with them.Anyone going beyond those rules were subject to fines and

even imprisonment.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No, I’m quire serious, and so were they.” Simpson shook

his head. “Not good to have a song running through your

head like that, Bill. Not healthy.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. It’s driving me crazy. I’ve got the



melody but I can’t for the life of me remember the words. I’m

thinking if I finally do, then that’ll be the end of it and it will go

away.”“No!” Simpson said firmly. “Just the opposite. That song

may be some virus -- for lack of a better term -- that could

trigger something bad. You don’t want to know the words, Bill.

Just leave it where it is, and it will probably get go away on its

own.”

“You talk like it’s alive.”

“It might be.”

“That is really off the wall.”

Simpson shrugged. “You asked. Oh, did you hear aboutLois?”

Bill blinked. “No. What?”

“They took her away in an ambulance yesterday

afternoon. I thought you knew. You two were pretty close.”

“What happened?”

“Aneurism from the way she looked to me. Brain

aneurism.” He shook his head.

“My God!“ Bill stepped back. “Which hospital?”

“I’d guess Memorial. It’s the closest.”Bill ran to his desk and found the number in the directory

and called it. When he told the nurse the name he was put on

hold. A minute later a man’s voice was on the phone. “Who is

this?”

“Bill Watson.”

“Are you a relative?”

“No, I’m -- we work together. I just want to know how

she’s doing. Can she have visitors?”

There was a long silence. “Miss Brown passed away lastnight. Acute brain aneurism. There was nothing we could do.

I’m sorry.”

Bill stood there stunned. He heard the dial tone and hung

the phone up numbly. Lois dead?

He felt the hand on his shoulder. It was Ralph. “Did you

hear?”

“Just now. I can’t believe it.”



“Yeah,” Ralph shook his head. “Damned waste. He held

out his hand,. “Here.”

Bill frowned at the folded sheet of paper. “What’s that?”“What she was working on. Your words you wanted.”

Bill stepped back. “Never mind.”

“What do you mean, never mind? This was something Lois

was doing for you. Take it, man, Have a little respect.”

Bill finally took the paper. He looked at it. He didn’t open

it.

“Well, aren’t you at least going to have a look? From

what I could tell, she pretty much got the whole thing for you.”

Ralph waited. “Look, give it back to me, okay? Tell you whatI’ll do. I’ll take it home, put it to the music and dub the whole

thing onto a CD. How’s that sound? I’ll give it to you tomorrow.

You can keep it as kind of a memory of Lois. And who knows?

Maybe it’ll even get that song out of your head. That‘s the only

reason Lois was doing it, you know.”

Bill watched him walk away. What if Simpson was right?

What if that song -- He shook his head. It was crazy. And then

the tune started up again in his head.

Mr. Connell came over, the head of the department.“Listen, Bill, I know you and Miss Brown were close. If you’d like

to take the rest of the day off, it’ll be all right.”

Bill looked at him and nodded. “I appreciate that, sir, but

actually being at work gets my mind off -- other things.”

“Well, yes, I have heard that the best recipe for

depression is getting involved with something. All right, Bill, I’ll

leave the decision to you.” He started away and then turned.

“By the way, what’s that tune you all are humming?”

Bill blinked. “You all?”“Well, yes. I heard Miss Brown humming it yesterday and

just now Bill was ,too. The same song.” He smiled. “And you

seem to never stop humming it. I must admit it’s kind of

contagious. I even find myself kind of playing it in my head.

What’s the name of it?”

“I don’t know.”

Mr. Connell frowned. “You don’t know?”



“No, sir -- I think it might be a bad song. I think you better

try and put it out of your head.”

“A bad song? What does that mean? You saying thelyrics are nasty or what? Tell me the lyrics.”

“I don’t know them!” Bill backed away. “I think I will take

you up on the day off.”

Bill worried about it all the way back to his apartment. As

soon as he got inside he called Ralph.

“Hey buddy, I hear you got the day off. Lucky stiff. Should

have been me. I was the one who had the hots for her.”

“Ralph, don’t make that CD. Just take that paper andthrow it away. I don’t want to know the song. Not even part of

it.”

“What? What’s that all about?”

“Just -- do it, okay? Trash it.”

There was a long silence. “I’m mot going to do that, Bill.

That was a gift from Lois to you. If you don’t want it, I’ll keep it.

Something of hers to remember her by.”

“Don’t!”

“Bill, what the hell’s gotten into you? Never mind, I’ll takecare of everything.”

“Ralph --” The phone went dead.

Bill flopped on the sofa and ran a hand over his face. It’s

too crazy. Simpson’s got to be wrong, and even if he’s right,

those Pyha-whatever Greeks died two thousand years ago.

And there’s been a billion songs written since then. Nobody’s

ever died from listening to them. Nobody you’d ever hear

about. Yeah, he could just see a doctor writing “Cause of

Death: Star Spangled Banner”. He shook his head. Lois was acoincidence. Anybody could get a brain aneurism. Any time.

That’s one of things that can happen to anybody. You never

know when. Nobody does. He shook his head. You’re

rationalizing, aren’t you?

“I’ll sigh with you, cry with you, die with you. You’ll be

mine forever.”

Bill stiffened. The lyrics. God, he was starting to remember



the lyrics. “No!” he said and ran into the bathroom and put his

head under the shower,. Cold water. Clears the brain. Old

trick. He grit his teeth. “Come on now! Go away!”Bill blinked. It was working. He could feel the music going

softer. Yes -- yes! Now what he needed to do was go to the

gym. Get a workout like never before. Get so tired that when

he got home he’d fall right asleep. That’s a plan! That’s a

good plan!

The phone woke Bill up at 4:27 the next morning. He

fumbled for it and sighed. “Hello?”

“Bill, this is Eva.”Bill frowned. “Eva? Eva who?”

Ralph’s sister.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry. We only met once, I think.”

“Bill, Ralph had a heart attack last night. I’ve been here

at the hospital all night.” There was a pause. “He didn’t make

it.”

Bill sat up. “What?”

“It was just too massive.” He heard her sniffle. “I know you

and Ralph were close and he had something he wanted me togive you.”

“Ralph’s dead?”

“I’ve got to collect up his personal things and then I’ll

drop it by your office.”

“Eva --”

She’d hung up. Bill sat there stunned. Ralph -- dead? He

blinked. First Lois and now --

He got up and got dressed quickly and drove straight to

the office. Nobody would be there, not at 5:00 in the morningbut it’s what he felt he had to do. He didn’t know why, but he

had to go there.

The main entrance to the building was locked. Bill shook

the door hard and a minute later old Sam, the night security

guard, peeked around at him. “Bill?”

“Open up! Just open up!”

The old man worked the key into the lock and Bill



practically fell inside.

“You okay?”

“There’s a woman -- she’s supposed to drop offsomething! I don’t want it, Sam! I want you to just get rid of it!”

Sam reached into his pocket and picked out a shiny disc.

“She was just here. This it?”

“No!” Bill fell back against the door. “No! No! You get rid

of it! Burn it! Break it into pieces!” Then he was suddenly

shaking with convulsions.

The orderly peeked through the tiny window of the locked

room. “That guy is driving me nuts. The same song, over andover again. Then he starts screaming and banging his head

against the padded wall. Then a minute later he’s right back

humming that same damn thing again.” He looked at his

partner. “You know that song?”

“Sounds familiar, but I can’t place it.”

“Yeah, same here. Tell you what I’m going to do. I’m

going to find out what it is -- maybe go to the music store or

something -- get the damn lyrics and come back here and sing

them to him. Maybe if he hears the whole thing done up rightand proper he’ll shut the hell up.” He shook his head. “I gotta

do something or I swear that music is going to be the death of

me.”

a song to remember

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