You've Got To Hide Your Love Away - A Beatles Fanfic

Chapter 40 - BLACKBIRD

••••
Blackbird singing in the dead of night.
Take these broken wings and learn to fly.
All your life,
You were only waiting for this moment to arise.
••••

"Dat one wooks wike a effalunt."

"You see one that looks like an elephant? Which one is that?"

Julian's little hand went straight up pointing at a white, fluffy cloud off to the right side of the sky.

"Ah, yes I see it," Cynthia replied. "What about you, John?"

"Looks like a fucking cloud to me."

"John..."

"Well that's what it is, isn't it? They're all bloody, fucking clouds."

Cynthia let out a disdainful sigh and sat up in the grass. "Why don't we go see what's in the cupboard for lunch? It's getting to be that time."

"Not hungry." John didn't move from his position laying on his back.

"Well I didn't suppose you would be." Cynthia stood up. "Julian, let's go see what's in the kitchen."

Before leaving, Cynthia tossed John an annoyed, hurt look which he pretended not to notice. With a sigh John returned his gaze up to the sky, looking at the possibly-elephant-shaped cloud passing overhead.

He had come out here to the vast grassy lawn by himself soon after waking up. Laying on his back on the chilly ground was his attempt at being alone without having to leave Kenwood. But soon enough Cynthia and Julian had found his not-so-secret hideout and joined him.

John's realization yesterday in Ruby's home was sitting heavily in his mind. Being at her flat wasn't going to bring her back. Sitting in her living room wasn't going to ease his pain. If anything it was only adding to it.

"Are you out there?" John whispered to the sky. "You couldn't have just waited a few days for me to get home? To at least give me a chance to say goodbye?"

A small flock of blackbirds flew in front of the clouds, letting out the occasional caw caw as they passed.

Placing his hands under his head, John adjusted himself in the grass. His back was getting cold from the ground beneath it, but he had no intention of getting up.

"If you're even out there, or up there, or wherever you bloody go in the cosmos... just give me a sign. An answer, ya know? Am I supposed to just... go on without you somehow?"

The wind blew silently.

John let out a small sigh. "I'm out here talking to the sky like a fucking fool..." With a chuckle he added, "You'd probably get a laugh out of that, wouldn't you? Me laying here in the grass talking to absolutely nothing. You up there yukking it up at the idiot down here talking to ghosts."

John propped himself up on his elbows and looked back towards the house. He really was getting cold at this point. The sun was out, almost mocking John's bleak mood with its brightness, but the chilly November air was cutting right through John's clothing. After a moment of debate he finally relented and stood up to walk back to the warmth of Kenwood.

****

The gallery in the basement floor of Indica Books was peppered with art exhibits. It all seemed a bit random and odd to John - an apple sitting on a pedestal, a typical looking chess set except for the fact that all the playing pieces were completely white, a block of wood with a hammer hanging next to it, and a random A-frame ladder seemingly sitting out in the middle of nothing.