I heard there was a secret chord
That David played and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?
It goes like this, the fourth, the fifth,
The minor falls, the major lifts,
The baffled king composing Hallelujah,
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah…
Nny stumbled through the alleys and streets. He couldn't keep his head on the ground. All he could think about was Devi. Devi, Devi, Devi. He missed her so… Nny remembered the Doughboys, and how they had betrayed him and twisted his feelings into a seething mass of hatred and fury.
And the knives. He could picture them. They were still sitting on the floor at home. On the dusty boards they laid, not touched since that dreadful night. Since he let them fall from his hands as Devi nailed the first punch of many.
Why had he done that? Why had he let the Doughboys say that and convince him so easily? But deep in his subconscious, Nny remembered that the Doughboys came from HIS mind, HIS thoughts. It was all Nny telling himself to do her in. And it made Nny feel all the worse.
Your faith was strong but you needed proof,
You saw her bathing on the roof,
Her beauty in the moonlight overthrew you,
She tied you to a kitchen chair,
She broke your throne, she cut you hair,
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah,
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah…
And the way she had rejected him after that. Never talking to him. Not even looking at him when he went to see her in her store. He would stand outside the window and look in, and see the angel on earth behind the register. She would take the money and bag the books, and take endless crap from the hurried people. He often fantasized going in sometimes and tell the worthless scum to respect her more. But that would inevitably lead to more unhappiness and failure. It would scare Devi again. That was NOT the impression he wanted to make.
The phone call. Devi probably would never know that it was HER call that killed him. Sent the bullet straight through his skull as the monster ripped apart the very bowels of the house, and the potato/reject jelly bean-head man stood over Nny, mocking his death. In a way, she killed him…but it was not her fault. Nny had convinced himself of that.
Maybe I've been here before,
I know this room, I've walked this floor,
I used to live alone before I knew you,
I saw your flag on the marble arch,
Love is not a vict'ry march,
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah,
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah…
Nny saw her store. It was closed and dark inside. But Nny, after being here so many times, at this same window, looked in out of habit. He could see images, ghosts, which milled about the store as "Devi" stood at the counter with that ever-present smile. Nny could see a man flipping the pages of a paperback. A woman looking at romance novels. Pre-teens thumbing comic books in the back. And it all seemed to be a video, play-backed until the screen went fuzzy and then burned the images onto the screen like when you leave a scene on pause too long.
He sighed a deep, longing sigh that seemed to go on forever.
There was a time when you'd let me know
What's real and going on below,
But now you never show it to me, do you?
Remember when I moved in you?
The holy dark was moving too,
And every breath we drew was Hallelujah,
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah…
He missed the talks. The long, hour lasting talks on the cliff, overlooking the city. He and Devi would sit there for hours and talk about whatever came to mind. And both would speak whatever they felt, and neither would ever be mad at the other because they were doing the same thing. Nny let a small tear roll down his cheek and die in the corner of his lips. No one would see it anyhow.
Walking back, Nny thought over it again and again. And it was inescapable. Why want a dawn that would never come? Why hold on to a dream that would never, in a million years, come true? Why waste his life hoping for a love that was never meant to be?
And he was home. Upstairs, he pulled out a box from under his bed. Titled, "Exit", he opened it slowly, as if expecting a monster to come flying out. Which, in his eyes, did.
The metal sparkled in the moonlight. Raising the safety, he handled the gun lovingly, longingly. Inside, he knew, was one bullet. Only one. But that was all he needed. He raised the gun to his head.
Maybe there's a God above,
And all I ever learned from love
Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you,
It's not a cry you can hear at night,
It's not somebody who's seen the light,
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah,
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah…
Amid tears and small sobs, Nny choked out one word. "Hallelujah." And he pulled the trigger.