Page 20 of Echoes of a Silent Song

Callum suppressed a groan.“Yes, I’m still blocked.”

“A temporary inconvenience.Taking this will resurrect your career.You know that.”

He sprang from the sofa.“A career I no longer have.Youknowthat.I’m not in Peterson, Illinois, teaching high school choir for fun.I’m doing it because I haven’t been able to write a note since Rayne died.”

“You know it wasn’t your fault, Callum.”Ralph’s lowered tone contrasted with another cheer from the Fenway faithful.“You couldn’t have saved her.”

Memories surfaced.Memories of raven-hued hair and winter-white skin.Of music and bliss and the feeling that everything in his life was going exactly as it should.Memories of everything before.Before thepandemic.Before Rayne’s medication regimen failed.Before her disease convinced her she couldn’t go on.

“I know.”Callum leaned against the doorjamb, the grief seeming as fresh as it had five years ago.“In my head, at least, I know.But in my heart, I think if I’d just been a little better to her, if I hadn’t been so self-absorbed, if I’d tried a little harder, loved her a little more—”

“No one loved Rayne Driscoll more than you did.”Ralph’s voice was sharp.“Literally no one.”

“But it still wasn’t enough.And now she’s gone, and I’ve got nothing left.Iamnothing.”

“You’re not nothing, Callum.You’re a teacher now!Molding young lives and shaping destinies and whatnot.”

Callum rolled his eyes skyward.“Not sure how well I’m doing at that either.”

“Do you have them singing?”Another cheer.Louder this time.Sox must’ve scored a run.

“Yes.”If it could be called that.

“Then you’re doing all that can be asked of you.”

His left fist clenched.“Notall, Ralph.I’m still not composing.”

“Are you trying?”

“Sometimes, yes.Sometimes I stay up all night trying.”He palmed the back of his neck, avoiding the brown upright piano on the opposite side of the small living room.“Sometimes I sit and just stare at the wall.And sometimes I plunk at the piano, but all I can think about is how much I’ve failed.”

“You haven’t failed.You’re just in a rough patch.”

“Do rough patches last five years?”

Ralph fell silent for a moment.“In your case, I think they do.”

Callum pushed himself off the wall.“Then why are you calling me about this commission when you know I can’t do it?”

“Because I believe in you, Callum.I wouldn’t still be your agent if I didn’t.”

“You’re my friend.You’re required to be my agent.”

“Correction.”Callum could picture Ralph’s raised index finger and no-nonsense expression.“I’m required to be yourfriend.Because youhave photographic evidence of me making questionable decisions at the tenor-bass Christmas party in 2009.”

That drew a genuine laugh from Callum.

“But I amnotrequired to be your agent.”The half-step modulation of the ballpark organ punctuated Ralph’s declaration.“If I didn’t think you could hack it anymore, I’d have dropped you like a hot potato.There’s a line out the door of composers clamoring for me to represent them.I’m a busy man.”

Callum grinned.“Then why are you futzing around with me?”

“Because you’re not done yet.The fact that you’re still getting offers for commissions is proof.God hasn’t changed his calling on your life.I know you’re in a rough patch with him right now too, but you’ll get through that one as surely as you’ll get through this one.Try to relax, Callum.I guarantee inspiration will strike.You’re too talented for it not to.”

Callum let out a sigh.“I wish I had your confidence.”

“Ehh, that’s what I get the big bucks for.”

“So what did you tell our esteemed colleagues at Illinois?”Callum was almost afraid to ask.