Hey all, my muse has been dead lately, but this came off the top of my head Friday, actually, in Creative Writing. The song Sea of Faces belongs to Kutless, and Newsies belongs to Disney. Thanks for letting me borrow them, guys!
Lyrics are bold, italic, and starred.
SEA OF FACES
He stumbled along, glancing away from the bright lights of New York stinging his eyes. Hands in pockets, he walked aimlessly, picking directions he hoped were familiar, hoping to end up where he needed to be. Problem was, he didn't know where that was.
An older woman with her arms full of packages bumped into him. Her parcels went flying, and they both landed on their backsides. He hurriedly stood up and held out a hand to her.
"Go away, street rat! I don't need your help!" she snarled at him. She got to her knees, brushing her bottom free of the street dust. She started gathering her parcels, glaring at the boy kneeling down to help. "I said go away! Get your own food!"
He mumbled a barely discernable 'sorry' and continued on his way. While thinking about who the woman was, he passed a church. He glanced up at the steeple and sighed. Wonder what momma woul' think o' 'er boy now. Street trash. He kicked at a page of yesterday's paper rolling down the sidewalk. No betta dan garbage.
I see the city lights all around me
Everyone's obscure
Ten million people each with their own problems
Why should anyone care
He remembered the day their old pastor had approached him, clinging to his mother's skirt.
- - - - - - - -
The old man knelt, his knees cracking as he smiled at the little boy. "Hey, son. Did you listen to my message today?"
The boy nodded with his thumb in his mouth.
"Did you understand it, boy?"
He took his thumb out of his mouth. "Yeah." He popped it back in.
"Did you want to make that commitment?"
The boy glanced up to his mother, who smiled reassuringly. He turned back to the preacher and nodded again.
The preacher smiled at him, prayed with him, then stood up to talk to his mother. "Such is the faith of little children, dear." He handed her a hankie.
The boy watched as his mother cried a little. The preacher hugged her reassuringly. "Everything works together for good, child."
- - - - - - - -
His mom had explained to him later what he had done. He hadn't thought about it for years. The next thing in his life was his mom had disappeared, and he had been left wandering the streets of New York. Alone. He kept it that way.
Reassurance is a wonderful thing.
He stopped staring at the church and continued walking. Walking, walking, it was his life, walking. He climbed a fire escape and found himself on top of a roof. His haven. He couldn't remember when he'd first found it. He never could in the day. At night, it drew him.
He sat down and stared up into the night sky. Stars twinkled mesmerizingly and he lost himself pondering the depths of the sky. It never ended. It didn't have a beginning. Endless. Pure. So…big.
Don't it make ya feel insignificant?
He'd asked Jack that once. Jack just laughed. "Ev'rythin' seems small at times, kid," he'd said. Then he took a drag off his cigarette and blew out the smoke. "Honestly, I t'ink dere's gotta be sumptin' more dan dis. Sellin' an' stuff. Ya know?"
Sometimes my life feels so trivial
Immersed in the greatness of space
Yet somehow you still find the time for me
It's then you show me your love
It'd just made him more confused.
If dere's sumptin' more dan dis, what is it?
What about dat Jesus guy? Who was he, really?
Kloppman's Bible didn't help much. All he could read were some words in the headlines. But from the stories he remembered from church, He was a good guy. Even let the kids jump on his lap. Healed people.
Momma had prayed for healing. For poppa. All she got was another job and funeral expenses.
God don't work, he'd decided. He stared at the stars more.
Suddenly a whole bunch of them started falling. A grin stretched his face as he watched the miraculous sight.
Purtier dan nuttin' I eva saw.
His reverie was cut off by loud noises from below. He dashed over to the side of the roof. He saw the trolley strikers. Fire. Beatings. His mind was drawn back to his thoughts earlier.
If there is a God, why does he let all dis kinda stuff 'appen?
"Dunno, boy. Jist dunno," he whispered to himself.
He clambered down from the roof and headed away from the strike. Roundabout way to the House, he'd decided. He stuck his hands in his pockets and let his mind wander.
There's so much stuff unexplainable. Maybe there is a God. He just made things, I spose. He don't care about us.
In response, he involuntarily started humming.
Jesus loves me, this I know. For the Bible tells me so.
He stopped humming. Where in the Bible, I wonder. I ain't neva seen it.
Ask Kloppman when you get there.
And another song he remembered from his mother, for memorizing verses.
Beloved, let us love one another-For love is of God, and anyone that loveth is born of God and knoweth God. He that loveth not knoweth not God, for GOD IS LOVE.
If only my one heart
Was all you'd gain from all it cost
Well I know you would have
Still been a man with a reason
To willingly offer your life
I'll have to look that up. Where does it say God loves us then?
Lost in his thoughts, he hardly noticed he was at the House until it was right in front of him. He was shocked out of his memories of his mother and ponderings by Jack.
"Hey, Race. How was ya day at da tracks?"
Race smiled a little. "Ya know dat hot tip I tol' ya 'bout?"
"Yeah?"
"Nobody told the horse."
He walked into the House ahead of Jack, still immersed in his own thoughts, and signed in automatically. Jack looked at him funny. "Y'ok Race?"
"Hm?" He broke away from his musings and looked at what he'd written. Taking up three lines, crooked, and Riley Higgins written in slap-shard handwriting.
He blinked. "Yeah. I'm fine." He walked into the commons room. "I…I don't think I'm gonna sleep too much tanight, Jack. I'll…I'll just stay down here."
Jack looked at him, concerned. "Sumptin' happen taday?"
"No. No…jist me own thoughts." Race countered Jack's worried look with a determined one of his own. "I'm fine, Jack."
He gratefully sank into the chair in front of the grate and listened to Jack clomp upstairs. The next thing he did was ask Kloppman for his Bible and a reference.
Just one in a million faces
Oh yeah guys, if you haven't heard Kutless, Relient K, or Hawk Nelson, go check them out. Kutless is a little more hard metal, Relient K and Hawk Nelson are rock. The Bible reference is 1 John 4:7-8, somewhere around there, for you curious ones.
Stein Auf, guys!