Aim to Engage 2023

23 Unchained Aria

His voice soared effortlessly through octaves far greater than a singular operatic range contained. From the dark lowest basso, to the clear bells of the most spectacular tenor, the notes wrapped themselves around my heart. I savored each one as I speculated about the man who encompassed the song. Who was he?

I knew the images flashing through my brain couldn't match the real thing, but my chest was tight with unshed tears. And yet, my throat bubbled with joyous laughter. He brought me a range of emotions capped with the growing knowledge of love.

Holy shit! I haven't even laid eyes on him and I'm falling in love. This was the tenth night in a row he sang his serenade. And now, with the garden below my narrow balcony deep in shadow, I made up my mind. The vibrating basso passage pulled me down the stairs and out into the fragrant rose garden.

The libretto promised undying love, and my soul was ensnared. Why did I have to choose the new moon and the density of velvet night to go on my search? I could have had a silver, creamy moon to light my way, but stubbornness was my curse as usual.

It reminded me of a Verdi aria, but somehow more. Unchained by the strict classical structure, the man singing brought blood from my frozen heart. Where was he?

I kept to the pathways, as tangling with the rose bushes didn't seem prudent. There were nooks and crannies with benches and arbors everywhere. Grandfather's design was a masterpiece.

The entrancing voice brought such poignant emotions with it, I knew if I ever found the owner, I would love him forever. Not stanning, but a deeply rooted need to mesh my life with his. My job producing new artists brought knowledge of the intimate details pertaining to song writing and music composition. I scanned the classic library as well as all the pop, country and jazz portfolios. Not a single search brought up anything like the concert I heard every night.

He started with his personal signature piece and went through many of my favorite classics from Amore to Unchained Melody and a dozen of the most challenging arias from the operatic repertoire.

I heard the whispering hum of an electric motor, and the crunching of wheels on the crushed shell pathway to my left. The one that went to the side gate leading to our neighbor's house. I scurried after the retreating intruder, taking the risk of running full out. If he got through the gate, I knew it was locked from the other side.

I don't know the last time it was opened. I think when my grandfather was courting the girl next door. She ended up being my grandmother, and we owned both houses. Who was renting over there anyway? I wasn't up on what my parents did financially, just went to do my job at the studio and came home each night. As Mom often said, there was no need to move out. We have amazing amounts of room. I even have my own apartment with a kitchen and everything.

But back to my incredible singer.

He was fleeing on a Segway. Standing upright, balancing easily, he rolled ahead of me gaining more distance as I slowed to take the corners. How did he stay upright?

"Hey, stop! Who are you?"

I couldn't believe how fast he halted, hopping off to yank the wrought iron gate handle.

"Please, I'm not going to make trouble for you. I just want to ask if it was you singing earlier. And every night for the last while."

I sprinted down the last few yards, catching a good look as he paused under the light illuminating a small sliver of our garden. Come to think of it, this was new.

"Shit!"

His speaking voice was a sexy rumble. I felt the pull deep in my center. He yanked at the handle again.

"Shit, shit, shit!" His voice got louder with each repetition.

"What's the matter?"

"I'm trapped. I'll have to go out the other way and my grandmother will have my head. Not to mention your parents. I'm trespassing. I couldn't resist coming out here to sing though. Especially when I did it the first night on the full moon."

I studied him carefully before I answered. He was frail, emaciated really. His hips were horribly uneven with one leg considerably longer than the other. I could see the lift on the bottom of his right shoe. His spine was twisted, curved twice instead of straight. When he turned around to face me, my heart stuttered.

His eyes were amazing. Piercing blue with lashes I would kill for. A straight nose, strong jawline and lips I knew would caress mine and send me straight to heaven. His beard was trimmed close, accenting hollowed cheeks where a dimple flickered as he spoke.

"Do you mean it? I'm not in trouble for intruding?"

"God no. You're the sexiest man I've ever seen and that doesn't hold a candle to your voice. And I have to know, did you write the song you start and finish with every night?"

"There's no way I'm sexy. Just a crippled useless idiot who can't make my way in the world."

"I don't give a damn. Your voice is amazing. You could win any one of the TV reality shows out there. I know, I work for one of the best producers in the industry. Did you write that song? It's unique and gorgeous." I knew I was pushing him to share something pretty special to him. His face went through a dozen different emotions.

He put the kickstand down on his Segway, and I grabbed his hand dragging him back to a stone bench under a giant oak. His gait was uneven, and he winced with every step.

"I'm sorry. Are you hurting?"

"Nothing I'm not used to. It's the way it's always been. The Segway over there makes it easier to get around."

"Let's try this again. I'm Caroline. I've lived here my entire life." I raised an eyebrow hoping he would introduce himself.

"Roarke Byrne. Not that anyone but my family knows of me. Mom home schooled me. She says it was to keep me safe. I know it's because she's ashamed of me."

My heart broke for him.

"Did you write that song?"

"I did. I saw you in the garden. I live on the the second floor in the back. My rooms are right up there." He twisted to point at a window with a small light shining in it. "I knew I could give you a song, if nothing else."

"Well, I fell in love with you because of it." I wondered if he would believe me, so I took a chance placing my hands on either side of his face so he couldn't look away.

His eyes met mine and the moment spun out endlessly before I brushed my lips over his. They trembled, before he responded. Time stood still until I pulled away, breathless, whimpering with need.

"I've never..." he admitted.

"Neither have I. You're only my second kiss."

"Sweet Caroline." The first notes of Neil Diamond's hit were perfectly in tune.

"Not always," I admitted.

"I'd like to find out." Roarke smoothed my hair back behind my ear. "Will you give me a chance?"

"You always had a chance. From the first note you sang under the full moon." I laid my head against his shoulder. I knew I was home. His so called handicap didn't matter one little bit.