December 24th 11: 25 PM
//Choirs will be singing, Silent Night
Those Christmas carols by candlelight//
As he waited for the midnight mass to start, Simon Banks passed the time by staring at the enormous stained glass windows all around the church. To say that Holy Redeemer was just another church would be the same as saying that the ceiling of the Cistine Chapel was just another work of art. Built some 85 years ago by Cascade’s affluent Episcopalian community, the enormous white stone cathedral ran the length of four cities blocks. The church was more than just a house of worship; it was also a historical city landmark. Adjacent to the cathedral were the renowned rose gardens, which attracted thousands of tourists during the warmer months of the year.
There were enough pews to seat 500, ‘and that’s a conservative estimate tonight,’ thought Simon as he scanned the sea of people that surrounded him, all pressed as closely together as possible to make room for the late arrivals. The Captain was grateful that Joel and Serena had left the party early to hold seats for the dozen or so officers that would be attending the services. Most of those who had been invited were already there, with the notable exception of Ellison and Sandburg. Simon couldn’t help but snort in silent laughter as he thought of Blair, not just for his surprise appearance earlier, but also because the anthropologist was indirectly responsible for Simon’s membership in this particular church.
Although Simon enjoyed the prestige that came from being a Captain on the police force, it lacked the pedigree of many of the other church members. The congregation of Holy Redeemer read like a “Who’s Who” of Cascade. Some of the wealthiest families in the city chose to worship there; some attending because they had been raised in the Episcopalian faith, while others just used their membership as a networking tool for social and business reasons. Regardless, Holy Redeemer took in an average of two million dollars in tithe’s and donations each year.
To Simon, that had seemed like a great deal of money for a church to have, until he learned that just how much the upkeep of the church and the gardens cost annually. The majority of the remaining funds went to support dozens of community charity projects. With Holy Redeemer’s resources, not to mention it’s large membership base, the church sponsored everything from clothing drives to a meals on wheels program. Simon himself volunteered for a number of events, especially anything that either directly or indirectly involved the choir.
It had been almost two years since Blair Sandburg first talked to Simon about Darryl’s love of singing, yet Simon could remember it like it was yesterday.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Unable to afford private lessons, and stymied by his son’s flat out refusals to join the school choir, the Captain and the Observer put their heads together to find an alternative place where Darryl could develop his talent. The idea of trying out for Holy Redeemer’s choir came to Blair when he ran into Harold Kent, Ph.D.. outside the Music Building at Rainer during finals week. Not only did Harold teach several vocal classes at the University, he was also the musical director of the church, directing the choir to victory in numerous competitions all over the Pacific Northwest.
Being in the Holy Redeemer choir was a honor, but it was almost like a second job for most of the members. Each person was required to take one private session with Harold each week, in addition to twice weekly three hour long group practices. In following tradition, church members were given preference when there were openings in the choir, but if their were no suitable volunteers, private auditions were held for an extremely short list of select candidates.
Blair was actually muddling over what to do to help Darryl when he ran into Harold. With half of the Music Department sick with the flu, the good doctor was desperate to find someone to proctor a make-up exam for some of his Music Theory 102 students who had been too sick to take the regularly scheduled test. Although it was outside of his field of expertise, Blair volunteered to monitor the exam despite his own busy schedule. In return, he asked Harold to give Darryl an audition.
In all honestly, Dr. Kent didn’t have much faith in Blair’s ability to judge vocal talent. He figured that it would only take five minutes of his valuable time to listen to the kid screech out a hymn or two, before he would say ‘Thanks, I’m afraid we don’t have an open spot in the choir right now, but I’ll be sure to keep you in mind.’ Two weeks later, Harold was suitably impressed by the raw talent his trained ear recognized in Darryl’s voice. Although the kid had promise, he lacked training. Harold extended Darryl an invitation to join the junior choir at Holy Redeemer, which was essentially a Music 101 class.
For the next eighteen months, Simon watched with paternal pride as Darryl worked hard, balancing his commitment to singing against his schoolwork and the varsity baseball team. With Blair and Harold’s assistance, his son received special permission to take an evening Music Theory 101 class at Rainer. It was there that he earned his first college credits at age sixteen. When Darryl managed to finish the semester with a B, Simon walked around the station with a perma-grin on his face for a solid week. Jim and Blair took the younger Banks out for dinner, not only to celebrate his achievement, but also to thank him for causing Simon’s about face in personality. About two months after that night, Darryl had been formally asked to become the youngest member of Holy Redeemer’s regular choir.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As they walked in the door, Jim and Blair were both handed service bulletins and small white candles inserted through circular cardboard wax catchers. Scanning through the crowd, the Sentinel finally caught sight of Simon waving to them from the end of a pew near the front of the packed church. Placing a hand on the small of Blair’s back, Jim guided the younger man forward towards the waiting Captain.
“Did you get lost or something?” Simon whispered as he moved out into the aisle to allow to two men to pass by. He had no intention of giving up his end seat, not only for the extra leg room it provided, but also since it afforded a better view of the pulpit Darryl would be singing from later. Everyone in the pew shifted down to make room for the new arrivals.
“At least I don’t have to worry about zoning out,” the Sentinel whispered when he noticed the seating arrangement. Somehow, he had ended up with Ryf on one side and Blair on the other. All three shared a knowing smile at the comment.
After stowing their bulky coats between the knee rest and the pew in front of them, Blair immediately reached for both a prayer book and a hymnal. Jim watched in amusement as the professor opened his bulletin and used it to mark the page the service began on before returning it to the rack in front of them. ‘How can someone who is such a slob in every other aspect of his life be so anal when it comes to anything involving a book?’ he wondered to himself.
“Not a word, man,” Blair whispered out of the corner of his mouth.
Jim was wondering whether he had spoken aloud or if his Guide had taken up mindreading, when he was deafened by the blaring of the massive church organ that signaled the beginning of the service. As his hands flew involuntarily up to cover his ears in a futile attempt to protect himself, Blair and Ryf both grabbed on to his arms in an effort to ground him. With both his partner and his Guide holding on to him, the Sentinel was able to focus long enough to adjust his mental audio dial to a much lower setting.
Nodding to signal that he was okay, all three of them turned around to watch the colorful procession as it made it’s way down the aisle. White gloved altar boys and girls bearing either a crucifix or torches were followed by various lay readers. Finally, the thirty member choir passed by in pairs as they sang ‘O! Come All Ye Faithful.’ Darryl was with the other tenors, and Jim couldn’t help but grin as he watched the teenager search the crowd for their group of Cascade’s finest.
Unfortunately, Darryl was on the opposite side of the aisle from their seats. With the choir members walking so closely together, he only noticed his father right before he moved past their pew. Due to his height, Jim was just barely able to see the smile that crossed the younger Banks’ face as he shuffled along. However, the bulky form of the Captain had completely obscured Blair’s view of Darryl and vice-versa.
By the time the eighth verse of the song rolled around, Jim was quite sure that all the Faithful had been gathered. With his Sentinel eyesight, the detective stifled a sympathetic grin for the two poor altar girls who’s arms were shaking with the fatigue as they held the heavy brass and glass torches. From some unbidden corner of his mind, the words ‘altar flambé’ floated to the surface.
As the song ended and the priest began the service, Jim’s thoughts started to wander. Religion had never played a large roll in the detective’s life. Both he and Steven had been baptized Methodist, but other than yearly Christmas and Easter services, their father had more important things to do than ‘to waste his time at church.’ Jim liked to believe that there was a God, but preferred to think that ‘he and the Lord had an understanding’ as it were, instead of choosing any organized religion.
Maybe that was why he’d been so surprised when he learned that Blair followed most of the tenants of the Jewish faith. With the anthropologist’s interest in religions of all forms, Jim had just assumed that his Guide would be a kind of ‘jack of all trades, but master of none’ when it came to his own personal beliefs. Always pressed for time, Blair was an infrequent visitor at Temple Beth El, attending services whenever he felt the need. Once, just after the whole mess with Lash had occurred, the younger man had invited Jim to accompany him one Saturday. The detective had gone, partially out of curiosity, but mostly out of concern for his still-traumatized Guide. On the ride back to the loft, they got into a deep discussion on religion in general. Once he was aware of Jim’s views, Blair respected the detective’s Agnostic beliefs.
Not familiar with the services, Jim and Blair both followed Simon’s lead of when to speak, when to sing, when to kneel, when to sit, and when to stand. As they sank to their knees for the third time in less than ten minutes, the Captain mumbled to Blair, “Our Lady of the Blessed Reebok, the low impact religion.’ The Sentinel, who’s enhanced hearing had picked up the comment, grinned at the sight of his Guide struggling not let out the laughter he was so desperately trying to contain.
Two hymns and one soloist later, the moment finally arrived. Everyone in their group was smiling as they saw Darryl move forward into the pulpit in front of them. Directly beneath the teenager, Harold Kent settled himself at the keyboard of a black baby grand piano, and waited for the young man to signal that he was ready to begin.
Taking a deep breath, Jim followed the teenager’s line of vision until it settled on the beaming face of his father. Then, for the first time that night, Darryl saw Blair sitting quietly next to Simon. The detective’s own grin widened as he watched the young man’s eyes go round in surprise before an enormous smile erupted on his face. Only when the anthropologist graced Darryl with one of his mega-watt smiles and a small wink, did the teenager visibly relax as he nodded at Harold to start the music.
//O! Holy night. The stars are brightly shining...// Darryl’s smooth tenor began. Never having heard the teenager sing before, Jim was completely amazed at just how good he actually was. Almost involuntarily, the Sentinel closed his eyes so he could focus more carefully on the rich sound. Although he didn’t know much about music, Jim was grateful that they had chosen the piano over the blaring sound of the organ. Darryl’s voice was strong enough that it could have easily carried over the organ; but somehow, the softer notes of the baby grand complemented the teenager’s powerful voice.
//Fall on your knees, O! hear the angel voices. O! Night Divine. When Christ was born...// As Darryl sang the refrain of the hymn, Jim marveled at the beauty in the of the young man’s voice, the way he was able to roll the sounds, the easy way he hit the higher notes; almost demanding that the congregation do what the song lyrics asked.
The sound of the other choir members singing the refrain in the background hit the Sentinel like a roll of thunder; softly at first, but quickly building in intensity. As they harmonized with Darryl at the end of the chorus, Jim noticed that he was rapidly approaching a zone out. In order to prevent it from happening, the Sentinel opened his eyes, allowing his sight to counterbalance his sense of hearing.
A quick glance to his right allowed Jim to watch Blair unobserved for a moment. His Guide was completely enraptured by the teenager’s performance. The anthropologist was so focused on Darryl, Jim would have been willing to bet that he hadn’t so much as blinked since the song began. It was a rare sight to see his Guide so utterly still, and Jim knew instinctively that Blair had been caught in the magical spell that Darryl’s voice was weaving around the congregation. As the teenager hit a particularly high note and held it, the Sentinel caught the almost imperceptible nod of approval the anthropologist couldn’t quite contain.
Turning his attention to his Captain, the detective was awed by what he saw. In all of their nine years of friendship, Jim could never recall such a powerful mix of paternal pride and sheer joy gracing the older man’s face. It was a stunning sight, one that the Sentinel felt privileged to have witnessed.
//O! Night divine.// As the song’s conclusion rapidly neared, Darryl’s voice seemed to grow even stronger, easily distinguishing itself from the harmonized sounds of the choir behind him. On the last word of the hymn, the teenager’s smooth tenor moved fluidly over many notes before settling on a final one. Jim was utterly amazed as Darryl drew out the last syllable for what seemed like an impossibly long time, before Harold’s quick hand signal silenced not only the soloist, but the entire choir.
Jim automatically wanted to applaud Darryl’s magnificent performance. His arms had actually begun the necessary movements before he suddenly remembered exactly where he was, and that his applause wouldn’t really be apropos. Similar movements from both Ryf and Blair made him realize that he was not alone in his impulse. All three men shared a secret grin as they turned to smile at their beaming Captain.
The rest of the service passed relatively quickly. The Sentinel elected not to take communion, but wasn’t surprised when all of the others in the pew, including his Guide made their way up to the altar. Jim knew that as an anthropologist, Blair would want to experience every aspect of any service that he was allowed to participate in, whether it was Christianity or some obscure Indian ritual. Alone in the long row, the Sentinel took the opportunity to say a little prayer for his brother, just as he had promised to do on his way to the church.
When the last of the congregation finally made their way back to their seats, and the priest finished clearing up the altar, the lights in the church suddenly dimmed. In the semi-darkness, it was easy to follow the two altar girls as they picked up their torches and headed back down the aisle to the first pews. So intent was he on their movements, Jim was startled when Blair tapped his arm to hand him the small white candle he had been given when he entered the church.
//Silent night, holy night, all is calm, all is bright.// Unaccompanied by any instruments, the choir began the song in almost perfect unison as the first candles were lit. Once finished with the first pew, the torch bearers moved further down the aisle, stopping several rows behind them to repeat the process. Jim watched as each person turned to their neighbor to pass along the flame they had been given, slowly bathing the entire church in an ever-intensifying glow as candle after candle was lighted. As the accapella version of the hymn continued, individual members of the choir took turns soloing on various words and lines of song.
//Silent night...// They were on the third verse of the hymn when Jim turned to his left to light his candle from the one that Ryf was extending with a soft smile. //...Love’s pure light, radiant beams from light holy face, with the dawn of redeeming grace...// Those were the words that were sung as Jim turned to his other side to offer his flame to his Guide. Blair’s expression was one of reverence as he brought the wick of his own candle to the detective’s. Once the task was complete, the younger man raised his eyes under the veil of his long lashes to meet the pale blues of his Sentinel’s. Bathed in the soft light of the flame, Blair’s face seemed to emit an ethereal glow all it’s own. He smiled at Jim with such tenderness that it took the older man’s breath away. In the span of a few short seconds, an eternity passed as they gazed at one another, each man thanking his own God for bringing them together in this life.
It was Blair who finally broke the moment when he remembered that Simon was waiting patiently to light his own candle. Jim caught the fleeting expression of regret before his Guide turned away from him. Without the younger man’s direct attention to occupy him, the Sentinel looked up and saw the reason the service included this tradition.
Now that all of the small candles had been lit, the warm glow they cast illuminated each individual pane of stained glass in the enormous windows; which in turn reflected a soft myriad of colors over the massive nave of the church. The beauty of the gentle hues, combined with the sound of the voices of the entire congregation singing, both he and Blair included, created an air of pure tranquility. Somehow, the Sentinel knew this was a memory that would stay with him for the rest of his days.
As the last gentle notes tapered off, Holy Redeemer’s three large bells began ringing to celebrate the conclusion of the service. Having turned down his sense of hearing to compensate for the volume of sound generated by the bells, Jim wasn’t bothered when the organ blared out the opening notes of the recessional hymn just a few seconds later. When Brown started singing, most of the people in their pew burst into laughter.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Clearing that many people out of a church was a time consuming process. Rather than join the throngs of people heading for the door, the folks from Major Crimes simply decided to sit and wait until the bulk of the crowd had dissipated. Simon and Blair slipped into the row in front of them to make conversing a little easier for everyone.
“I can’t believe you did that, man!” Blair exclaimed through his laughter.
“How was I supposed to know it wasn’t the Three Dog Night version? I mean, I am a child of the 70’s,” Ray shot back. Brown had noticed earlier in the service bulletin that the last hymn to be sung would be ‘Joy to the World.’ Rather than the more traditional song, the detective had belted out ‘Jeremiah was a bullfrog, was a good friend of mine’ loud enough for most of the people in their pew to hear.
The effect of the joke had been magnified by the somberness of the earlier moment. The various uncontrollable snickers and snorts came not only from their little group, but also from several people around them. Of course, it also earned them a few disapproving glares of reproach that went unnoticed as hands flew up to cover the inappropriate smiles.
Most of the late night worshippers were making their way out the door by the time Darryl came back into the church. Fighting his way through the flood of people heading out the door, the young man resembled a salmon attempting to make it’s way back upstream. Jim smiled as the robed figure broke through the last part of the crowd and headed full speed towards his father.
It was hard to say who was more shocked, Simon or Blair, as the teenager flew past his father to get to the anthropologist. Darryl had inherited his father’s large stature, forcing him to lean down to sweep Blair into a giant bear hug. “Oh man, I’m so glad you’re here!”
Only Jim’s sensitive hearing picked up Blair’s sarcastic mumble as Darryl held the anthropologist so tightly, his feet came off the ground for the umpteenth time that evening. “What am I? A Tickle Me Elmo doll?” Speaking at a conversational volume, Blair couldn’t help but tease the teenager about the six inch difference in their heights. “Oh, man. I see your father’s been feeding you Miracle Grow again,” the anthropologist quipped before releasing Darryl to go hug his impatiently waiting father.
The reunion was intense, but short lived, as the clock rapidly approached one in the morning. Knowing that they would see everybody at the Brown’s Christmas dinner later, they made their way towards the door. With extra hugs to congratulate Darryl’s performance, Jim and Blair said their goodnights and headed for home.
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