Wherever Souls Fly - Luke's Story

7 Kilometer Zero revisited

Today is the day we have all been scared of, the day that Luke will leave us. He has spent the nights in the spare room with his little brother for the last five weeks. They have literally been together every minute, and they have behaved like boyfriends. We've never asked, and they've never said what happened behind the closed door of their room at night.

Now we're on the way to Matt's village. For this once, Muhammad has allowed six people in the car. The funeral service will be held by a Protestant pastor in the village chapel, which is a Catholic one, but it is used by Protestants for funerals and christening ceremonies, too.

Kevin and Matt's parents had planned a memorial ceremony according to tradition a year after Kevin's death, but Matt persuaded them to hold a funeral service on the last day of the summer holidays. They still haven't told them about Luke's identity, but Matt and Luke believe that the ceremony will help them make their peace with their son's death.

When we get to the chapel, there are already several cars in the car park. Matt and Kevin's grandparents, some aunts, uncles, cousins, and neighbours are there, so the 50 chairs in the chapel are all taken, except for those in the front row which have been reserved for Matt, his parents, and the five of us.

The small altar is covered with beautiful flowers. To its right there is an easel with Kevin's photo , and to its left a young man is sitting at a keyboard. When we are all seated, he is playing a sad hymn. The keyboard sounds almost like a real organ. Matt's parents chose the songs we are going to sing, so that we could practise them, which is good, because I was once at a funeral service where nobody knew the songs, and hardly anyone was singing which was embarrassing.

When the song is finished, the pastor enters the room and walks to the altar. He is in his 40s, and his black hair is graying at the temples. I have an idea who he really is when he says:

"Dear congregation, dear family of the beloved late Kevin, your Pastor Hillmann tested positive for Covid this morning, so he asked me to replace him."

He gives a short sermon, praising Kevin for his joyfulness, righteousness, helpfulness, and everybody who knew him or heard about him knows that he is being very lenient, but that is what people expect of a pastor at a funeral service, don't they.

Then we sing another hymn, say the Lord's Prayer, the Agent gives us the blessings, and to everybody's surprise addresses Luke:

"Kevin's brother Matt has asked his friend Luke to sing a song for us."

Luke sits down at the keyboard, and as he plays the intro of 'Kilometer Zero', I am already crying. A few seconds later Matt, Freddy, Muhammad, and Pete join in, and a few more moments later, everybody is crying – except for Luke, who is smiling as he sings the most beautiful love song that has ever been written.

When the song is finished, Luke goes to Matt and hugs him. Then his father and his mother hug him, too, and thank him for singing the song which, as they say, was the highlight of the ceremony.

Then we get into the car. Matt, who is sitting next to me on the back seat, is hugging Luke, and when we turn into the main road to the city, they kiss once again.

Then Luke turns to me, smiling:

"Shay, please promise me to take care of my little brother."

"Of course I will."

"You'd better keep your word. I'll be watching you."

He kisses Matt again, and then leans over to kiss me, and then he is gone. Matt is crying, so Freddy and I keep hugging him until we get home. We sit down in the living room, and Freddy suggests smoking a joint in loving memory of Luke the spirit. While we are smoking, Muhammad dares ask the question that no one dared ask before:

"Err, Matt, we're a little curious. Will you tell us what happened behind the closed door of the spare room?"

Matt smiles and does not hesitate to reveal the secret:

"The first night my elder brother taught me what my hands are good for. The second night he taught me what my mouth is good for. The third night he taught me what the rest of my body is good for. The following nights we practised what he had taught me."

"I guess you're perfect with your hands, mouth and rest of your body now," states Muhammad dryly, and as I have experienced Luke's teaching skills, I can only agree with him.

So, guys, there you have the difference between a BL story and real life: In a BL story, an elder brother would never be allowed to teach his little brother all those exciting things, but real life doesn't obey the rules of a literary genre.

Then we all startle as the lights in the living room are being switched on and off, and the melody of 'Kilometer Zero' is playing upstairs. We rush up to my room, but there is no Luke. It is only my laptop.

But someone must have pressed the 'play' button, and I think I know who did it.