Let the New Light Come Shining On Through

Lunchtime was pleasant. Radley was in high spirits and Kalin enjoyed seeing him so happy. It had been horrible when Kalin had feared he would never see Radley happy again, and to know it was at least partially because of him.

The diner was in full swing, with every table filled. But that was how Radley liked it. He thrived on people. And all of them were thrilled that he was well enough to be there. At some point, everyone there came over to the table to greet him and Kalin. He chatted with them with ease and definitely tried to appear more well than he was. If Kalin didn't know the truth, he might be fooled himself.

When West came through the door, Kalin was quickly up and over to the kid. He had been thinking of checking on the family after taking Radley home. West no doubt would have made a beeline for Kalin and Radley upon seeing them, but for once Kalin wanted to make the first move.

"Hello. How's your father?" he greeted.

West beamed. "He's great! I just came to get some lunch for all of us! Nico usually makes it, but I said she should take a break today and I'd bring lunch!"

"That was thoughtful," Kalin said.

"How's Radley?" West asked.

"He's doing well," Kalin said. "He's here for lunch too." He nodded to the table in question.

Radley looked over and waved. "Hey!"

West grinned. "I want to say Hi to him too!" He hurried over. "Hi, Radley!"

Kalin smiled as he followed the boy back to the table. West was exuburant as always, talking about Nico and their father Jordan and how grateful they all were to Kalin and Radley and the others who had saved Crash Town. Radley, used to such rapid-fire talking, listened with a smile as Scotch brought a menu.

"So, what do you think everybody would like?" he asked when West took a breath to look at all the delicious food possibilities.

"I'm not sure," West mused. "Maybe . . . the salmon filet for Dad, and this chicken salad for Nico, and I want a cheeseburger! Maybe two!"

Radley laughed.

West stayed until his food was ready and then got up to take the large takeout bag. "Thanks, Radley! I'll see you and Kalin again soon!" he beamed.

"Sure," Radley smiled.

Kalin watched him go after Goodbyes were said. "He didn't pay for that," he noted.

"And I'm sure Jordan will insist on paying as soon as he's well enough to get up," Radley said. "But under the circumstances, I don't mind them still having freebies."

"Still?" Kalin blinked.

"Yeah, I've tried to help take care of the kids ever since Jordan fell to Malcolm," Radley said vaguely, sounding far away.

Kalin thought back. Now he remembered the bags Nico had always carried out. "You . . ." He looked down, suddenly feeling a new wash of shame. "I never realized. . . ."

Radley gave him a kind smile. "It's not like I advertised it."

"I saw enough that it should have been obvious," Kalin said. "I always thought you were telling the kids to leave me alone or something. And I never really noticed the bags."

"It's fine," Radley insisted.

"They must be so grateful to you," Kalin said. "I know Jordan will be."

"I'm glad I could do something," Radley said. "I wish it could have been more. I invited them to live with me, but they wanted to stay in their house and keep it ready for when Jordan would come back. They never gave up on that hope."

"I never understood why," Kalin said. "With everything so wrong, how could they possibly have hope? And yet they did."

"I never really understood it either, even though I tried to encourage it," Radley said. "I didn't want them or the Bunch—or anyone in town, really—to feel as hopeless as I was starting to inside."

"No one would have known your hope was failing," Kalin said. "You hid it well."

"That was the goal," Radley said. "Although I tried to open up to you a couple of times when I felt especially beat."

"I wish I'd realized," Kalin sighed. "In a way I did, and I thought you'd be better off without any help from me. I certainly didn't know how to restore anyone's hope."

"You figured it out later," Radley said.

"Thank God I did," Kalin said. He hesitated, then said, "You've finished eating. We should go back home for now."

"Yeah, we probably should." Radley looked reluctant to leave, but finally he got up. He might not want to admit it, but he knew Kalin was right and he should rest. The diner was very stimulating with all its activity.

". . . We could go upstairs?" Kalin suggested, seeing his reluctance. They would still be able to hear everyone, but they would be away from the hubbub and Radley's couch was soft.

Radley smiled at the compromise. "Let's do that." He moved to the stairs and started up, keeping a firm hold on the banister. Kalin followed close behind him in case he slipped. To their shared relief, Radley made it up safely and into his office.

Kalin felt an involutary shiver go up his spine. When he had been in Radley's office before, Radley had been laying dead on the couch. But then he had revived, and the next day they had even fallen asleep together on the couch. The good memories would, hopefully, outweigh the bad. He didn't want to be leery of being in Radley's office.

Radley sank down at one end of the couch. "This feels good," he said in approval. "Join me?"

Kalin sat down near him. "You don't want to lay down?"

"Not right after eating. I'll get indigestion!" Radley smirked playfully before sobering. "You know, sometimes I stand at my window and look out at the town, wondering what it was like when it was first settled. That was back in the 1800s, when the mine produced silver. Those early settlers were probably mostly pioneers coming up from the Oregon Trail."

"I never thought about it before, but you're probably right," Kalin said.

"My great-grandparents were pioneers too," Radley mused. "They came over from Spain on a ship and then had to cross the country to get to where they wanted to go. Luckily for them, they could mostly use the railroad. I can't imagine what it must have been like for people who had wagons or handcarts."

"Horrible," Kalin said flatly.

"Yeah, I'm sure," Radley agreed. "I've read and watched some things about pioneers to understand. I don't think I'll ever fully understand. I think the only way anyone could is by experiencing it, and I've got no desire to do that. There's actually some groups that will do pioneer treks for a few days in order to experience it. I'm not that curious!"

"That's insane," Kalin grunted. "Why do it when they don't have to?"

"They've got good reasons," Radley said. "A lot of them are descended from pioneers and they want to know better what their ancestors felt. It's a way of connecting with them. And then I guess some others don't wanna be left out, so they'll try it too just for kicks. Maybe some people like camping so much, they think it sounds fun."

Kalin just shook his head. He was never going to understand that one. But then another thought occurred to him.

". . . Everyone who came here to build up this town a second time is a pioneer too," he said. "That means you and the Bunch."

"Yeah, I guess that's true," Radley mused. "I wonder what the 19th century pioneers would think about that."

"They'd be proud of everyone who had a sincere desire to make it into something good," Kalin insisted.

"And ashamed of everyone who had greedy reasons, no doubt," Radley said.

"There were people like that back then too," Kalin said. "But if it hadn't been for greed, in some cases some areas probably wouldn't have been settled at all."

"Hmm. It's a nice thought, but I think most places settled by greed alone are the ones that became ghost towns," Radley said. "You need a deeper foundation than that."

"You had one," Kalin said. "You came here seeking your fortune, but when you saw the mess the town was in because of Malcolm trying to take over, you chose a bigger purpose and tried to protect everyone here from him."

Radley smiled a bit. "Yeah, that's true."

"I think the old pioneers would be proud of you for trying so hard," Kalin said.

"Maybe. Or ashamed of me because of the dusk duels." Radley rubbed his knee. "I don't think I'll ever be able to answer the question of if it was right or wrong. It was war, and I treated my miners right, but Malcolm couldn't have got any people to mistreat if it hadn't been for the set-up. Maybe there would have been another way."

"You did the best you could with what you had," Kalin said. "You wondered before about how military leaders would feel too. I think any decent person would always wonder if there would have been another way because of the lives lost."

"You and Yusei found another way, though," Radley said. "If we had tried that, maybe we would have saved the town long ago."

". . . Would the Bunch have really had the courage?" Kalin had to wonder.

". . . I don't know," Radley admitted. "Maybe as long as I won. . . . But would I have won?"

"I'm sure Lawton cheated," Kalin growled. "I've seen your deck. In a fair duel, you could have beat him."

"I wonder if we would have met if Crash Town hadn't been what it was," Radley remarked. "But I hate to think the price for us meeting would have been so much suffering."

"I wonder if I would have found the will to live if I hadn't needed to protect the town," Kalin said. He sighed. "They're disturbing questions with no answers. I'd rather not think about them."

"Me too." But Radley looked like he wasn't sure he could put it behind himself so easily.

The grim moment was broken by Scotch downstairs, saying something in German and then belting out a strange song Kalin had never heard before about the Red Baron. He immediately stared towards the heat vent, where the lyrics were very audible. ". . . What."

Radley laughed. "You think it's weird now? Just wait."

"He's cheerfully singing about 80 men dying trying to bring the guy down," Kalin said.

"Novelty songs are something else," Radley said.

As the song continued and sang of Snoopy the Beagle fighting the Red Baron and eventually bringing him down, Kalin's expression said it all. ". . . Did Scotch make that up?"

Radley just laughed harder. "No! It's a real song from the 1960s. There's several others too. Scotch usually sings them all, even the Christmas one, no matter what time of year it is." He started to get up. "Let's go watch."

Kalin wasn't sure Radley should get up again already, but he seemed invigorated by Scotch's impromptu concert, so Kalin just let him head downstairs while he followed closely.

Scotch did indeed sing all of the songs. The first sequel just built on the original, while the Christmas one was cheesy and cute and told of a truce between the two. The last skipped ahead to the present day of the song's release and Snoopy was running for President. The Baron cast the final vote Snoopy needed to win.

"Okay, so I know that kind of scenario would be highly unlikely to happen even if the guy had survived the war," Radley said. "Apparently he moved to America, got citizenship, and became a delegate? But it's Snoopy's fantasy anyway, so I don't think about it too hard. It's just a silly, cute song."

". . . I wonder if there's any songs about Garfield," Kalin grunted.

"I don't know of any," Radley chuckled. "What would they sing about? Garfield being a jerk to everyone and eating lasagna and sleeping?"

Kalin shrugged. "Probably."

"Although they could draw from that one special about Garfield's fantasies and make a pretty fun song parodying detective movies and Indiana Jones," Radley mused. "Some of his fantasies could easily rival Snoopy's."

"Really," Kalin said.

Radley nodded. "Actually, I'll be honest. I'm sentimental about the Peanuts characters, but I'm not the greatest fan of the TV specials or some of the stuff in the comic strips. The way Charlie Brown gets treated is just too depressing. Everybody giving him rocks in the Halloween special? Seriously? Maybe it would have been funny from one house, but repeating the gag got old fast and just made all the adults look like monsters. Who would keep doing that to a kid, any kid, even if his costume was really simple compared to everyone else's?" Radley shook his head. "Maybe it's just because I was so lonely growing up, but I don't appreciate that kind of humor."

"I've never seen any of the specials, so I can't comment," Kalin said. "But that sounds like something bullies in the Satellite would have done."

"Exactly," Radley said. "Bullies, not mature adults."

Someone in the audience called out to Scotch. "Are you going to do Snoopy vs. Osama?"

Scotch hesitated. "Well, I could . . . but it's just not as fun!" Nevertheless, he did it anyway, trying to jazz up the tune as he went along.

Radley looked thoughtful. "I wonder why that one isn't as fun."

"The tune isn't that catchy compared to the others," Kalin remarked.

"That's part of it," Radley agreed. "But also, they didn't even really have Osama interact with Snoopy like they did with the Red Baron. Those songs are cool because of the intense conflict set up between them during their many meetings. You really get invested in it. With this, Snoopy and Osama meet once and Snoopy shoots him. There's just no real heart to it, no investment in the conflict."

Kalin grunted. "You realize you're arguing about silly novelty songs having heart."

Radley smirked. "But do you agree?"

Kalin considered it and shrugged. "I guess. Maybe."

"On a more serious note, maybe we're still just too close to those events to find it a kick to make up silly songs about them," Radley said. "Can you believe it's over a hundred years since World War I?"

". . . That's surreal to think about," Kalin admitted.

"It's a long ago era that's pretty romanticized," Radley said. "In spite of the war, it seems like a simpler, more innocent time filled with exciting inventions. Planes and motorcycles were still pretty new back then." He shook his head. "It's also surreal to think that maybe years in the future, these more recent wars could be romanticized too."

"That seems unlikely," Kalin said.

"The people who lived during World War I might have felt the same," Radley said with a smirk. More seriously he added, "I'm sure they didn't think a global war was anything to romanticize. And of course it's not. I'm not sure myself why that time period seems mysterious and intriguing. I think more about spies and inventions and early airplanes and motorcycles than I do about fighting." He tilted his head slightly. "Are you fascinated by any particular eras, Kalin?"

Kalin pondered. "The Old West, I guess. Lawless and wild and filled with people who made their own justice when it was needed . . . and sometimes when it wasn't. It reminds me of the Satellite . . . and here, of course."

Radley nodded, not surprised. "It is kind of fascinating. I'd hate to live back then without any kind of modern technology, but it's hard to live in a place like this without being or getting interested in that era. I was never that into it before; I like the 20th century the most. But I've grown more interested in the older past since I've been here."

". . . I guess the Old West era has been romanticized too," Kalin realized.

"Any era that seems different and exciting probably gets romanticized to some extent," Radley said. "So it's not impossible that people in the future might feel that way about the recent wars and the years surrounding them."

"Maybe," Kalin said. He hesitated. "Speaking of terrorists, though . . . you can't deny I was one, even before the Dark Signers. I rigged Duel Disks to explode and sent them to the Sector Security headquarters." He tiredly passed a hand over his face.

Radley looked to him in surprise, not having expected him to suddenly open up. "Hey . . . you're not that person anymore," he said kindly.

"Maybe not, but I still wonder how what I did might impact the future of the town as far as being the sheriff goes," Kalin said.

"And you seem to feel bad for it in general," Radley said.

"It's not how I'd handle problems anymore," Kalin said.

"I still think things will be okay," Radley said. "Maybe you can call Yusei today and ask about it."

"I should," Kalin agreed.

Scotch bounded over to them. "Radley! I thought you were going home?" He looked thrilled to see Radley still there, but concerned about him overdoing it.

"We decided to stay," Radley smiled. "We were upstairs."

"Epic!" Scotch grinned.

"You know some strange songs," Kalin said.

Scotch smirked. "They're right up my alley! I know more too. Have you ever heard The Purple People Eater?"

Kalin stared at him. ". . . No."

"Then that one's next! And the Witch Doctor song!" Scotch leaped up and hopped back to the jukebox.

"You've really got him started now," Radley chuckled.

Kalin listened to both wacky songs while staring in disbelief. The customers were an enthusiastic audience, clapping in time to the music. Radley did as well, grinning in amusement both at Kalin's expression and Scotch's hamming it up, even using a falsetto voice for the People Eater and the Witch Doctor characters when they spoke.

"Scotch is a real showstopper," Radley said.

". . . He could probably get a job in a comedy club," Kalin conceded.

"Only he's happy here," Radley said with pride. "He's told me he wants to keep living here and performing at the diner."

"That's not surprising when he idolizes you so much," Kalin said. "I can't think he'd ever be happy living away from you."

"I'm glad," Radley said. "I've wondered sometimes if some of them will leave for greener pastures, but I'm pretty sure I can count on Scotch to stay."

Scotch suddenly waved Biff over with a gleam in his eye. Rolling his eyes a bit, Biff went up next to his friend and accepted the microphone. "This next song is about an island," he intoned in a deep voice with a fake Caribbean accent. Somehow he knew just what Scotch wanted.

". . . What's this now?" Kalin grunted.

Radley giggled. "Apparently Scotch has decided we need a mini Halloween concert."

After Biff finished his spiel about the island, which turned out to be Manhattan, he, Scotch, Marty, and Jimmy launched into a highly choreographed song about zombies having a jamboree in a cemetery. Scotch wore sunglasses with eyes painted on them, which he whipped off mid-song to display fake eyeballs over his own.

". . . He's really all into this one," Kalin said. "Was this all his idea?"

"Actually, no," Radley said. "They're doing the Rockapella version of Zombie Jamboree, right down to the loco glasses and fake eyes. The only difference is that Scotch has taken my lead and modified the lyrics slightly since there are a lot of kids here right now. The zombies don't give a 'dang' today."

"Heh." Kalin finally smirked a bit. "I'm surprised Biff will do this song."

"Only for Scotch," Radley said. "He knows it means a lot to Scotch. He's our best bass."

Scotch seemed to be in a very Rockapella mood following the zombie song. He next led the same three friends in singing Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego, and Kalin had to admit that the lyrics, detailing Carmen's thieving exploits around the world, were devilishly clever.

"Where do they learn these songs?" he wondered.

"Mostly from me," Radley admitted. "But they've found some on their own too."

". . . I have a hard time picturing you introducing them to The Purple People Eater," Kalin deadpanned. "The songs you shared with me were so much . . . deeper."

"Scotch asked me for silly songs, so what could I do but comply?" Radley chuckled. "In all seriousness, though, yeah, I've shared more serious songs with them too. Scotch just prefers the silly ones in general."

"That's not surprising," Kalin said.

Radley suddenly looked thoughtful. When the Bunch finished their number, he got up and walked over to the jukebox. "May I?" he said, reaching for the microphone.

Scotch beamed. "Sure!" He handed it over, eager to hear what Radley would sing.

Kalin was surprised by Radley's decision, and slightly concerned. Was he well enough to stand up and do something as taxing as singing?

He couldn't deny to some heavy curiosity too. What did Radley want to sing so much that he was willing to get up and do it right now, when he was still healing?

Radley's desire was a serious song, of course. And when Kalin heard the words, he took pause. The song told of someone deep in sorrow and depression, praying to God for happiness to be brought back into their life. Then, due to meeting someone special, the person's life and attitude changed around completely and they found renewed purpose and happiness with that special someone. They had been lonely, mistreated, and misunderstood, but had risen above all of that due to the power of love.

Radley had a sweet, sincere tenor voice and he swiftly transfixed all of the audience, Kalin included. By the time he finished to thunderous applause and came back to sit down, Kalin's mind was turning. He wouldn't even think what he was right now, except that Radley had outright told him several times of the difference Kalin had made in his life. Was that what he was trying to convey now, with this song? Did he mean it for Kalin?

". . . That was really good," Kalin managed to say. He was not used to delivering praise, but he felt it was needed here.

"Thanks," Radley said with a smile. "I started thinking about it because it's also a popular Rockapella song like the last two Scotch led."

"Is it . . . more than just a song for you?" Kalin asked.

"Yeah," Radley replied. "Much more."

Kalin wasn't sure what to reply to that, so he stayed silent. But as the singing continued with more songs from the Bunch, he continued to ponder, both on Radley's feelings and his own. The song fit them both. They had found their change in their life with each other. That would never not be incredible to him.

". . . It's . . . more than a song for me too," he said at last. He once never would have admitted it. But he was tired of hurting people and not sharing his real feelings. He wanted to say this.

Radley's smile lit up the room. Kalin was making him so happy.

"Good," he said.