Chapter 33

“Why do I feel like this,” asked Straffe as he and The Soundman stirred and sipped tea. And as packed and noisy as the small café was, Straffe’s attention was strictly on an answer.

“Did you hear the beats when you passed through,” The Soundman inquired, guiding the conversation.

“No,” was the shocked reply.

“Exactly,” replied The Soundman in response while slurping another sip. He paused before continuing. “You see, most people think it’s silence they experience when passing through. Like a break from all the noise they’ve been listening to all their lives. I told you it’s a reset, a restart or something, but it’s not really like that at all. It’s subliminal.” He sipped again. “Noise aint noise as most people think.” The Soundman takes hold of his wrist as if he’s checking his pulse. “There’s a rhythm to it. A rhyme. Once you get in tune to the beat, that’s when you become in tune with the universe. That cosmic sound. And that beat, you don’t listen to it, you don’t hear it. Uh-uh. You feel it. It touches your skin and tickles your hairs. Did you know there ain’t no two sounds alike? You can’t hear the same sound twice. Different time, different element, different place. Life is about movement. Like a wave or a wavelength. There’s no such thing as silence, which is what people think I’m giving to them. Nope. You may not be able to hear what’s around you, but your body does. Your mind does. Your soul does. I just single out one beat. That one, universal beat. You can’t hear it but your body gets in tune with it, so by the time you hit the exit, you on beat or at least closer to it. And it takes some people a little longer than others ’cause the body is looking for that rhythm, that universal link. And once it’s in sync, then come out. Come out in tune with life and existence itself. No two beats are alike.” Clarence took another big slurp of his tea.

Taking it all in, Straffe took a deep breath and blurted out, “I wanna go back through,”

“Ok,” The Soundman agreed. “Suit yourself,” he said as he slowly rose out of his chair. “But you don’t need it. You good. But you must’ve been hurtin’ bad, real off beat ’cause look at you, tappin’ your fingers, shakin’ your legs.”

Straffe looked down at the truth of his body movements. “Searchin’ for that rhythm. Come on let’s go,” Straffe urged, holding the door open and waiting for his new friend.

And again Straffe entered the booth, exiting closer but not yet fully in sync.

Holding him steady, The Soundman whispered, “Alright now, you doin’ good. Go home and get some rest and I’ll see you tomorrow. The pyramids wasn’t built in a day. Come on back by tomorrow and take another trip,” he finished, leading Straffe away alone yet surrounded by eight million people.

And the next day Straffe returned. And the day after that and the day after that. For months, trying to get in tune with the beat of the universe. And one day a few years after that first encounter, the beats mixed perfectly. All of the elements of his mind, body and soul, synced with the expanding universe, no beginning and no end. Soon after, Straffe, the banker, began to hate his life. He hated corporate, he hated finance, he hated his riches, his townhouse and his past existence. Not heeding The Soundman’s advice throughout their budding friendship that being close to in-tune is fine and enjoyable and secure, but once you’re in perfect harmony with noise, your life will totally change, becoming more harmonious with nature while despising man-made things.

And that’s right where Straffe now stood, at the crossroad of this world of universal totality. He now avoided The Soundman, not going to the soundbooth or even visiting him as a friend, but The Soundman knew. He had sensed the awakening once Straffe exited that last time, so he hoped and prayed that his friend would be ok. He knew he would be, but still . . .

***

The Soundman winked at the sun as he felt Straffe’s presence once again. He heard his beat and felt his steps. A quickened pace, new suit, new tie and freshly polished shoes. With arms stretched, Straffe reached for his friend. Reciprocating, The Soundman brought Straffe in for a warm embrace. “Welcome back,” he added stepping back and rubbing Straffe’s arms. He gestured toward the booth, “stepping through,” he motioned.

“Oh yes,” Straffe insisted as he made his way through, meeting his friend at the end. “Like a refreshment,” he awed out eyes closed and head facing the heavens.

“So what brings you back,” The Soundman questioned.

With eyes still closed Straffe responded, “I got a call. A world-changing call.”