Chapter 2

"Guten tag!" A man's voice said. I jumped so violently my bag's strap slipped off my shoulder and banged loudly on the stairs. I looked up, cringing as like the night before, the noise echoed around the cathedral. A head had appeared at the top of the stairs. A smiling head.

"Oh, uh, good afternoon." And then I cringed again. I knew perfect German, of course, but the English had slipped out reflexively. "Erm, guten tag."

"Ah, here, let me help you." The man said, speaking in English and bounding down the stairs. He was tall and had a messy head of brown hair. Stooping, he hefted my bag and gave me a warm welcoming smile. "You must be my replacement."

"I, oh, yes Hi, I'm Catherine Stagg." I shook his hand, smiling as best I could. "Thank you."

"I imagined you'd be older. By the looks of your resume, I thought you'd be ages old." I laughed in response as we climbed the stairs, too tired to really be sure of how to take his words.

I hadn't made it to my apartment until 2:00 am. I had left the cathedral somewhere around midnight and proceeded to get woefully lost driving around the German city of Hamburg. Not bothering to take anything in, I'd zombie walked directly to my bed and slept until late afternoon. Now I was back at the Church, showered and somewhat put together.

I looked closer at the man. He had an unfortunate coloring, somewhere between orange sherbet ice-cream and mayonnaise and his body and limbs had an unused softness about them which somehow gave off an immature vibe. He seemed a few years older than me, maybe in his mid-30's but I sensed he hadn't gotten out much.

"I'm Damion Goyle, by the way, the organist here, oh wait no, the former organist." He continued to speak as I set my organ shoes next to the bench and irritated, noted the open organ console. I felt suddenly protective of my space. "Goyle like Gargoyle, though hopefully I'm a little better looking than one." He laughed

"I'm sorry, what?" I said, perhaps a little too sharply, but keeping up with his words was proving hard.

"Oh, I just, um, your bag" He moved to stand beside me in front of the organ and placed my bag on the bench. "ooooh I know that look, you're just dying to play him, aren't you? Here." He dug in his pocket and held out the keys that unlocked the cover. "I was just saying my goodbyes, he's all yours now."

"Oh, I've already been given a set of keys." I jangled mine in my pocket. "He?"

Goyle nodded and put his keys back then shrugged "It's nothing official, no name or anything, 'he' just seems…you know, appropriate."

I knew musicians had a tendency to assign genders and even names to their instruments but I had never personally felt the need.

"Well anyway, I'll leave you to get acquainted. The lights are over there," He pointed to the wall by the stairway. I didn't feel like telling him I'd found them yesterday. "And that key ring has the keys to the choir loft door. If there's anything else you need just, um, here" He pulled out his wallet and dug out a business card. "Just give me a call." A shy smile spread across his face. " Maybe we can get together for coffee sometime, talk about the job and what not" Goyle looked hopeful. I smiled then. I didn't have a single friend in this country, maybe it would be nice.

"Yeah, I'd really like that." I took his card, wrote my number on the back, and returned it to him. "I don't really text but I'm usually good at returning calls."

Goyle grinned widely. "I can handle that." He backed towards the exit "I'll give you a ring then, Stagg. Oh, I almost forgot." He came back and scooped up the music notes mug with a sheepish grin. "Family, if they know you're into music you get endlessly bombarded with this type of stuff. But, I'm sure you know."

I nodded and smiled, not trusting myself to speak. After discovering it, I had gently tucked the feather into my bag the night before. I felt somewhat guilty now, watching Goyle holding the mug, because maybe I had been wrong. Maybe the feather had been there the whole time. I wasn't exactly famous for my observation skills. But Goyle didn't ask after it so I continued to say nothing.

"Well, I'll see you around." He smiled, giving me a wave. "Auf Wiedersehen."

I heard the stairs protest and he was gone.

A few hours later, I opened my bag to grab another book, and pulled out the feather instead. I examined it closely for the first time. It was about the length of my hand, with a delicate gray vane. It's wasn't just black, like I'd originally noticed, but actually a deep blue that faded to black around the edges. I ran my finger up the edge, feeling its flexibility and gentle strength.

"Where did you come from?" I asked it. I hadn't been in Germany long, but I hadn't seen much in the way of avian variety. I shrugged and set the feather by the lamp.

Back to the old grind. Organ grind. Organ grinder? I chuckled to myself then banged my head on the music rest, God I was so lame. I really needed to find someone to friend with.

Friends…I wondered how long it would take for Goyle to contact me about meeting up. I had to admit I wasn't getting any other offers. Cooping myself up in a choir loft for hours on end really did wonders for my social life. Even back in the states I only had a handful of friends who understood my weird tendencies. You're like the phantom of the opera was the usual tease. Minus the mask. I chuckled again then groaned. Ok, soon I'll officially start directing rehearsals and playing for services full time. That would surely introduce people into my very limited circle. Maybe I should walk down to that bar on the corner this evening…

My phone rang in my purse, bursting my thought bubble.

"Damn." I almost never forgot to turn my phone to silent so of course the one time I did it would have to ring.

"sorry, sorry, sorry." I whispered to the empty building as I dug for my device. "speak of the devil" I knew it had to be Goyle, I rarely got calls, especially after the move. Everyone I regularly spoke with was probably sleeping over in America.

"Dies ist Stagg." I answered in my professional voice.

"Hallo Catherine. How are you? Bad time? Are you still in the church, I bet you are." Yep, I was right, it was Goyle.

"Oh, hi. No, its fine, I was taking a break." I turned towards the back of the church, trying to keep my voice soft.

"I knew it. Still there, such a hard worker! I like that."

I smiled, though a little uncomfortable with the praise. "I guess, so, what can I do for you?"

"Oh right, well I was wondering if you'd thought about coffee? Not right now, obviously, but maybe tomorrow? I know this really great place just up the street from the church, I could meet you there or at your place, wherever, God, I'm word vomiting, please stop me." He laughed uncertainly.

"Yeah, sure, tomorrow would be great, I start rehearsals in the afternoon but before that would be fine."

"Awesome sauce. Around 11:00?"

"Perfekt"

"OK cool! I'll see you then, I'll look forward to it"

We said our good byes and clicked off.

I hit the indicator on my phone and created a new contact to store Goyle's number.

God, what had he said his first name was? I couldn't for the life of me remember. I found myself looking to the wooden rafters for inspiration.

"ooh" a stroke of genius hit me " I'm going straight to hell." Giggling, I typed "Gar" in the first name space. It's the little things that keep me happy. Saving the contact as Gar Goyle, I internally applauded my wit and switched my phone to silent.

I paused, something felt off. Like a hair inside my shirt or a static radio. I looked around me, and then back up to the rafters. The cloudy weather didn't allow much light to come in through the windows and I hadn't bothered turning the lights on when I'd come in earlier. Well, aside from the music stand lamp on the organ, but that wasn't powerful enough to illuminate the rafters I was scrutinizing. Had I imagined it? No! There, the shadows flickered a little, moving like a breeze had stirred them. Like dark, shifting wings. I stood still looking intently at the place I'd seen the flicker but couldn't make anything out. After a few minutes I lost interest. Whatever it was, it was gone.

I checked the time on my phone, determined not to stay up so late tonight. I could practice more, but I had a ton of unpacking to do. I sighed and began gathering my books. Organ locked and books in bag, I turned to go, but stopped, glancing again at the beams overhead. I couldn't make out anything more. But yet…I shrugged and left the loft.