Devil’s Music

Chapter 126: From Jamaica

Chapter 126: From Jamaica

Geon glanced over at the man beside him, exhaling smoke from a marijuana joint as he gazed ahead. It was the same man he had just seen in a photograph at the museum – Bob Marley. Geon spoke with an admiring glint in his eyes.

"Bob Marley. I admire you."

Marley turned to Geon, chuckling softly. In Marley's eyes, Geon saw the image of Nanael watching from the rooftop of a nearby building. After a slight nod from Marley, he spoke.

"You dream often, friend. It seems you're not at all surprised."

Geon nodded slowly in response.

"Not often, but I've met many people in dreams."

After taking a deep drag of the marijuana, Marley spoke.

"Ah, I see. What brings you here?"

"I'm a student learning music, Bob Marley."

Concealing his face with the smoke, Marley waved his hand dismissively.

"Just call me 'Marley.' A student, huh? That's good. Learn and listen as much as you can."

As Geon nodded, Marley continued.

"I'm Marley. Born between an unknown English officer and my mother. Never met my father. Raised by my mother alone in a harsh place. Couldn't afford education. So when I see students like you, I envy them."

As Geon looked at Marley with sympathy, Marley chuckled.

"But I received 'inspiration' instead of 'education.' It was the musical inspiration from the harsh and impoverished reality of Jamaica. Perhaps it was when my friend Eddie got caught stealing sugar cane from the plantation and was beaten to death, that's when it began, maybe."

Geon looked at Marley, calmly recounting the harsh reality, with a sense of pity. Marley glanced at Geon's expression and then spoke.

"Why do you look so sad and lonely? Haven't you forgotten that when one door closes, another opens?"

Chuckling again, while still engulfed in marijuana smoke, Marley gently patted the remaining joint. Geon asked, watching Marley's serene expression.

"What inspired your music? Was it the harsh reality of Jamaica? Or poverty?"

Marley's gaze softened.

"It started with tears... yes, tears."

Geon fell silent at Marley's melancholic demeanor. After a moment, Marley spoke again.

"I wanted to change the world. But I realized, to change the world, you have to change people. So, I spent my life trying to change people with my tears."

Geon inquired further.

"Many revolutionaries seek to change people. Some wield guns, and some brandish the sword of ideology and resort to violence. Why did you try to change people through music? It must have been a much harder and difficult path."

Marley shrugged his shoulders, observing Geon for a moment.

"What problem can death solve, my friend?"

Geon fell silent again. Marley turned to him with a smile.

"You don't need to worry. You already know how to convey accurate emotions. If you ever make music, chew on your lyrics, make them understandable to the listener, and convey them. If the listener understands your words well, that's it. Don't try to dress them up with unnecessary complexity. An easy-to-read book with profound content is better than a difficult one, as long as the message is conveyed."

Geon nodded deeply in understanding.

"Thank you. The music I've made so far has filled its 'purpose,' but I've never thought about the message I want to convey to all listeners. I only aimed to make the best music possible."

Suddenly, Marley reached out to the sky, flicking his fingers, and from somewhere, a melancholic classical guitar melody wafted through. Marley closed his eyes, feeling the guitar melody. Geon, startled, looked around with wide eyes as he heard "Asturias," the piece he had played in Juilliard's studio class, echoing.

After listening to the music for a while, Marley opened his eyes. He looked at Geon intently before chuckling again and taking another drag of the joint.

"You don't need to worry. You already know how to carry accurate emotions. If you ever compose music, think deeply about your lyrics, make them understandable, and let them be heard. If the other person understands what you're saying, that's it. Don't try to wrap it up with unnecessary complexity. A simple book that's easy to read but carries profound meanings is better. You know such a book, right?"

Geon nodded, receiving Marley's words.

"Yes, for me, it's 'The Little Prince.' I read it when I was ten, and honestly, I didn't quite understand what it meant. When I read it at fifteen, it was a profoundly beautiful book. And I plan to read it again when I'm thirty."

Marley nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, I've read that book too. I was a bit older when I read it, but yeah. It must have been easy to read for you, right? But it contains many meanings, so every time you read it, you feel different emotions."

Geon nodded, and Marley continued.

"Music lyrics should be even simpler than that. The best lyrics are those that listeners understand immediately, knowing exactly what intention is behind the words."

As Marley looked up and met the gaze of Laurence, who was behind him on the rooftop, Nanael waved his hand. After a slight nod from Marley, he turned to Geon and said,

"We're short on time. From my perspective, conversing with someone like you is quite enjoyable. Remember the words I've shared, my friend. It's not to say you should become an artist who feels as dangerous to politicians as I do and risk getting caught up in a gun attack. Haha."

Marley rose from his seat, deeply inhaling the remaining marijuana. His expression slightly grimaced due to the bitterness, but the look of euphoria from indulging in the marijuana was evident. After taking one last drag, he scattered the remaining marijuana on the ground and turned to Geon.

"It was nice meeting you, albeit briefly. Truth be told, I was more delighted to smoke with Natty after such a long time. But alas, I can't do this up there, haha."

Marley rummaged through the pocket of his green shorts and pulled out a photo, extending it towards Geon.

"Are you with Natty right now? Sorry, but could you pass this on to her?"

As Geon accepted the photo Marley offered, he saw a picture of Natty and Marley, both smiling, taken while they were shirtless. On the back of the photo was written '1964, at the Negril Cliffs.' As Geon looked up from the photo to Marley, Marley chuckled.

"It's just one photo, and I couldn't pass it to Natty myself. Would you do me a favor? Also, you should definitely visit the Negril Cliffs. You can't do the diving at night, but it's serene and beautiful with no one around."

Geon nodded, and Marley waved his hand, walking in one direction. Geon's eyelids suddenly couldn't bear the weight anymore and closed. When he reopened them, the first thing he saw was Natty, sleeping on a bench. As he turned his head to look around, he saw the sight of Trench Town as the evening sun set.

Quietly, Geon approached Natty, who was still asleep, and looked down at her. While looking at the photo in his hand, Geon placed it into the pocket of Natty's shirt.

"It's a gift from Marley, Natty."

As Geon left Natty sleeping, he boarded a taxi headed for the Negril Cliffs. At the edge of the cliff, which he arrived at shortly, there were remains from the diving enjoyed during the day, and the time was becoming quieter as tourists dispersed. Geon looked at the sea touching the dark night sky, taking in the cool Jamaican sea breeze.

"One love, one heart."

"Let's get together and feel all right."

"Hear the children crying."

"Hear the children crying."

"Saying, 'Give thanks and praise to the Lord, and I will feel all right.'"

"Saying, 'Let's get together and feel all right.'"

"Let them all pass all their dirty remarks. There is one question I'd really love to ask. Is there a place for the hopeless sinner? Who has hurt all mankind just to save his own? Believe me. One love, one heart. Let's get together and feel all right."

The beautiful voice of a young boy echoed softly over the sea at the Negril Cliffs, blending with the gentle sound of waves, creating the most beautiful harmony with nature.

And it touched the hearts of the many angels secretly watching over Geon, causing their golden tears to flow, blessing the land of Jamaica. As the sacred tears of the angels seeped into the earth, small sprouts began to emerge.

Sprouts bearing the name of hope.

>

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