CHAPTER 15

Solve:
To find a solution for: clear up, decipher, explain, resolve, unravel. Informal dope out, figure out. Idioms: get to the bottom of. See ask/answer, reason/unreason.
To arrive at an answer to (a mathematical problem): work, work out. Informal figure out. See reason/unreason.

Shane cuddles Carmen.
She rocks her, she caresses her head, she kisses the top of her head.
She lets her cry for an endless time as she feels all the weight of the world slowly laying on her shoulders, like a terrible presage.
Carmen cries all the tears she didn’t think she had. Carmen cries into Shane’s arms all the tears of pain, and fear, and desperation, and longing, and loneliness she has never cried in three years.
She is out of breath, and when Shane picks her up gently, as if she was just a little baby, and walks silently towards the bedroom, she lets her.
Shane lays her on the bed, quietly covers her with the sheets, brushes her hair and then rests right beside her, spooning her wordlessly.
Then, she does something incredible.
She whispers a sort of a lullaby into her ear.
Low, husky voice
– the voice of someone who was convinced not to deserve love, not to deserve care, not to deserve affection –
softly singing for her.
It’s not exactly a classic lullaby, though.
It’s a song.
An old song, a love song, a song full of pain and devotion and hope.
It’s actually a prayer.
“I don’t believe in an interventionist God… But I know, darling, that you do… But if I did I would kneel down and ask Him… Not to intervene when it came to you… Not to touch a hair on your head… To leave you as you are… And if He felt He had to direct you… Then direct you into my arms…”, Shane whispers silently into Carmen’s ear.
Carmen feels her eyes filling with tears, again. Tears that have no sounds.
She closes her eyes and presses Shane’s arms on her breast.
“…And I don’t believe in the existence of angels… But looking at you I wonder if that’s true… But if I did I would summon them together… And ask them to watch over you… To each burn a candle for you… To make bright and clear your path… And to walk, like Christ, in grace and love and guide you into my arms…”, Shane murmurs, stumbling over the tune, stumbling over the words, and then stopping for a while.
“Please…Go on…”, Carmen asks, sniffing.
Shane clears her voice and gently kisses Carmen’s temple.
“…But I believe in Love… And I know that you do too… And I believe in some kind of path… That we can walk down, me and you… So keep your candle burning… And make her journey bright and pure… That she will keep returning, always and evermore… Into my arms…”.*
She sighs, closing her eyes and swallowing something that she is unable to explain.
A presentment, a fear, an omen.
She hears Carmen’s breath becoming more and more regular, deep. She is finally asleep.
Shane hides her face into her girlfriend’s hair and plunges into the blackest and dreamless unconsciousness.