The Hidden Genre (C. H. H. Ain't Dead 01)

chapter nine - saturday morning

NORTH CITY Mall was hit by a wave of customers exploring it for the first time. A couple of tourists entered the CBM store and Isaac jumped at the opportunity to hear the English language in its first form. But they didn't need help . . .

   “You’re welcome,” the staff member returned the smile, “let me know if you guys need assistance . . .”

   Ever since he reconciled with Luke, it was as if the whole world was off his shoulders. Like his lips had discovered teeth for the first time, now it wanted to reveal its discovery to every stranger that passed.

   The last two nights had been more than productive, but without a doubt, finding out that Ruth rapped, topped them all. Her lyrics repeated over and over in his head. His own number one hit. Still, he tried to dissect it every time.

Lord, I've been reading that prison letters
I've been trying to rid these burden pressures

   Isaac had been reading Paul's letters as well, and last night he finally got a huge burden off his shoulders. He only had one more, but as long as Ruth and Luke didn't know about it, it was weightless.

My family has done well while I lag behind
Lord, help me understand that You are beyond time

   Isaac needed the reminder that all things worked together, as well. He tried to convince Luke to turn from his ways, but he knew to leave it in God's hands.

See, my sister became a famous detective
My mother got married around the same age
I wonder if I am to follow those steps
Or should I keep my feelings caged?

   Ruth never pitched up that evening they were scheduled to record together. It didn’t help that she hadn’t sent a message either. It also didn’t matter, especially since the power went out. Over the phone Mr. Rennells ensured Isaac that the switch must have tripped from too much power. It would therefore be best to record another day, which he agreed with.

   Who was Isaac kidding though? It’s not like he was there to record more than he was there to spend time with Ruth.

   He finally left the building knowing he would only see her next week again. Isaac had so many questions. Maybe too many personal questions. Could anyone blame him? He needed to know what she meant by:

Should I keep my feelings caged?

   What feelings was she questioning?

   “Hey, mate, I wanted the –”

Lord, when I lost her, I felt like my life was done

   When she lost her? Who was this female, and why was she so important to Ruth?

   “Sorry, sir –”

Now I like this dude with the same name as Abraham's –

   And . . . does she like, like like –”

   “Excuse me!”

   Isaac snapped out of his thoughts, “Yes, sir, sorry, uhm, do you need help?”