Take Me To Church (A John Lennon Story)

Chapter Twenty-Six: A Long Night

I had missed the sound of his heartbeat.  I had always thought that he would constantly be near me.  But the six months had done damage.  However that night we were trying our best to fix it.  

 We had to keep quiet though, as Mimi was home that night.  And though she was a heavy sleeper, he didn't want to take any chances.  My sighs were muted by his lips.

He made me his again, and I gave him that "birthday present".  And he couldn't stop smiling when he found out that I was indeed eighteen then too.  My birthday had just been a few weeks before.  But behind that smile I could tell he was sad that he had missed that day.  

It was cold so we hid as much of ourselves as we could beneath his blankets.  He never let go me.  Part of me thought that maybe he didn't know if I was truly there.  Perhaps he had had dreams like this before.  Dreams where he had made love to me only to find that I was gone in the morning.  

"I'm not going anywhere," I promised him.

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He wanted to know if I still talked to that one nerd (Robby), Ella, her brother and that Negro who helped bring the two boys to justice.  I said yes.  

It was midnight and he was smoking a cigarette in his bed.  His other arm was around me.  "It's a shame that we haven't had a night of not sleeping like this before.  We always just fall asleep, you know.  At least I do.  I don't know what you did when I fell asleep."  He reached over to his nightstand and pulled out a camera.  "Can I take your picture?"

"John, I'm na-"  He turned the camera towards me so I quickly hid myself.  I pulled the covers over my head, giggling softly as my face burned with a blush.  "Don't make me come in there after you.  I intend on getting some lovely shots of you, clothes or not."

"How do I know you won't share these photos with your friends?"

"Because I don't like sharing.  And I most certainly would not share you with anyone."

And so we had a tiny midnight photo shoot.  John had no problem being photographed.  When he set the camera back down, he said, "If you want, I'll throw away the film.  That way no one ever sees it."

"...I want to."  

We stared at each other for at least ten seconds before I asked.  "You said you wrote a song.  About me."

He blinked.  "Yes, just a second."  He got up, and pulled his guitar out of his case before sitting down next to me on the bed.  He played and sang softly, afraid that Mimi would hear.  

I call your name,

But you're not there,

Was I to blame,

For being unfair?

By the way he strummed I could imagine that it would be played faster.  I leaned my head on his shoulder.  I missed his voice.

Oh, I can't sleep at night,

But just the same,

I never weep at night,

I call your name,

I call your name,

I call your name,

I call your name.

I kissed his cheek.  "I'm sorry...I didn't realize that you had been so sad."

"Of course I was sad.  I love you and I figured that you would move on without me.  Obviously I'm not going anywhere."

"Don't say that...I have a feeling that you're going to d"o a lot in life, John.  Just you wait."

He smiled at me.  "In my dreams."

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For about an hour he tried to show me how to play some song he liked, by some American singer.  What was his name...Elvis.  But I think it was just an excuse for me to sit in his lap and to touch my hands.  

"What was it like in Germany?"

"Well...it was always quite dark.  We ended up sleeping in odd places, like a theatre once.  Um...we did a lot of illegal things.  I won't go into detail."  He ran a hand through his messy hair and yawned.  "We kept eating these pills...they kept us energized.  We played twelve hour shows some nights.  I thought of you a lot."  He laid back on the bed, pointing at his bare chest and stomach.  "But I lost weight, see?  The problem is keeping it off."

I leaned back into him.  "You are perfectly fine the way you are."  We were nose to nose.

"I was worried about going to Germany...I was afraid something would happen to you and I wouldn't have had any way of knowing.  If you were violated again-"

"Can we not talk about that right now?"

There was a part of me that was scared to be alone with John, especially because he could have his way with me without trying too hard.  After all, I was already undressed.  The thought was present, but I did my best to calm myself.  Because this was John, and he would never hurt me.

Mimicking his aunt's voice, he said, "Would you care for some tea, dear?"

"I'd love some, ma'am."

"I'll be right back."

He made his favorite tea for the both of us.  "I'm feeling classy tonight otherwise we would have had beer instead."  He furrowed his brow for a moment.  "Unless..."  He hung over the side of his bed, reaching down below the metal frame and pulled out a shoe box bound with a rubber band.  He opened it.  Inside was a tiny little bottle of alcohol, the kind you got on airplanes, a lot of different papers and a sketchbook.

"Where did you get that?"

"Do you want to know?"

John offered me the bottle, and I tried it.  He laughed at my face.  "I still don't like it."

"That's fine.  I'll finish it."

He showed me the sketchbook which he had brought to Hamburg.  He had drawn some of the people they met in cartoon form.  Some of the captions were hilarious, others dirty, which made me blush.  There were a few scraps of song lyrics, which he tore out and was about to throw away when I grabbed them from his grasp.  "You shouldn't toss these.  They could be of use someday."  I tucked them back inside the shoe box.  He watched me for a moment before tackling me back on his bed, clinging to me like I was his childhood teddy bear.  "Let's go to sleep now...I'm tired..."

I kissed his forehead.  "Goodnight, John."

Hello.  

I will try to update every weekend, and I'm sorry if I can't sometimes.  But please know that I'm a very busy person most of the time with my schoolwork.  

I hope you enjoyed the chapter.  

Love, 

Irelande