TOPAZ by Jennifer Hor Page 1

TOPAZ

It must have been at least a month before his fifteenth birthday that he first heard her
voice. He’d never heard a voice like hers before: low and smooth as warm golden honey
gliding down a tube of glass. It promised dreams and pleasures beyond games on the PC,
music, hanging out at the shopping mall and smoking in the school toilets. He’d never known
what kind of life existed outside his world until the day when he and TJ were fighting over
the games console while the radio was on and he pushed TJ who fell across the radio and
bumped against the dial; the music immediately switched over to a station playing some
weird ethnic music with violins and guitars that went out of tune a lot with a lot of laughter
and hand-clapping going on in the background instead of drums, bass guitar or looped
rhythms. Then he heard her voice – yes, THAT voice – crooning in a language of warbles,
abrupt emotional stops and guttural sighs, filling him with an electric warmth that sent tingly
fuzzy sensations to all his extremities and made his groin hard and harder until he couldn’t
bear the feeling any more, it was too overwhelming, he had to run to the bathroom while TJ
was sprawled on the floor wondering what had hit him and what the fuck weird kind of music
was playing … When he had relieved himself, the music had not only finished but the
announcer had done with mentioning the singer’s name and the song she sang. TJ had picked
himself up off the floor and mumbled something about a woman singing a weird song called
“To Paradise we both shall fly”. They had both laughed about the song’s title. But after TJ had
gone home, he sat down on his rumpled bed and wondered about it. What did the title mean?
He needed to find out. But how and where was he going to start?
A few days later while walking to the train station after school – he was walking on his
own after detention – and thinking about that song title when, astonishingly, he could hear her
voice twirling through the air from one of the shops ahead of him, swishing and winding
around his head and shoulders. How a guy could get lucky! He looked around him on the
street but no-one else seemed much interested in the music – in fact, the people around were
walking and acting as though they couldn’t hear any music at all, apart from what some of
them were hearing through their own headphones. He walked faster and faster and the singing
got louder and louder. Someone must be playing an old tape for the music sounded warm and
muted around its edges and there was a lot of crackle in the background. The music led him
on, block after block of shops, he turned a corner, he turned two corners, and he ran up a
series of narrow stairs in a musty building right into a tiny rabbit warren full of strange
packages and shelves: compact discs, cassettes and old-looking vinyl records with strange
scribbles across them, crammed into rows stretching from the floor up to the ceiling or sitting
on top of each other in crazy piles in dark corners of the shop. The air was heavy with the
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smell of wrapping plastic, old cardboard and raspy cigarette smoke. The music and the
woman’s singing were dancing above and around him.
“Hello, how can I help you?” A small, dark man suddenly appeared at his shoulder.
“Oh, um, yeah – uh, yeah, you can help, I guess.” He felt like an oversized giant in this
tiny overcrowded music shop with its tiny proprietor. “Um – that music you’re playing with
the woman singing – I heard it outside so I thought I’d come in and ask about it – um, well
yeah …”
“Really? I didn’t think I was playing it that loudly.” The little man sifted through a pile
of tapes on the counter and picked one up. He held it out to the youth to see. The faded front
sleeve showed a young woman’s face with large, gentle dark eyes and full red lips parted ever
so slightly as if in moist anticipation of a kiss, all framed billowing dark chocolate brown hair.
“She’s a beautiful singer, don’t you think?”
“Uh, yeah.” The boy thought it was odd that the man had only a tape of the music
instead of a CD (and the whole thing looked very old) but he studied the picture while
overhead the velvet singing fluttered in and out of the liquid guitar tones like an elusive and
exotic bird. He began to feel himself floating on invisible bow waves being created by the
voice. He had to control his voice. “What – what’s her name?”
The little man said something quite strange and then added, “That’s actually her
professional name. It means ‘topaz’. It’s a very apt name for her, don’t you think? No-one
knows what her real name is. I don’t think it matters anyway.”
Topaz: so that’s what people call her in her own language. The name did suit her. Now
he knew he had to have the tape. He drew a deep breath. “So how much is the tape?”
“How much? Just two dollars,” the little man grinned.
Two dollars! The boy almost fell over. He would have given up everything he had and
more for her voice and this little man was going to sell it to him for just two dollars! “Two
dollars then,” he mumbled, fumbling in his pockets and producing a two-dollar coin. He gave
it to the man who popped it into his pocket. The fellow then stopped the music, rewound the
tape on the machine, took it out and put it into its box. “Here you are, young sir. A very wise
purchase if I may say so myself! I hope you’ll enjoy it a lot. We don’t usually get young
people like you coming in here. Maybe we’ll see you again soon, eh?”
“Yeah, I guess. Thanks a lot.” He crammed the tape into his bag and managed to leave
the shop without knocking anything over. As he went down the creaky stairs, he wondered
how he could have passed this shop hundreds of times since he began high school a few years
ago and never noticed it until now.
The train journey was bumpy and uncomfortable with sweaty commuters pressing in on
him all the way. As he left the train station and walked home, he thought about playing the
tape first or after the hip hop program on the radio. Well, the program was always on the same
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time on Tuesday evening every week. Maybe he would skip it just this once. What else was
there? The English essay was due Wednesday morning or Thursday morning, he wasn’t sure.
The history test was coming up Friday morning. What a bummer! He hated writing essays –
the teacher was always complaining about his spelling – and learning history was pointless
when it was all about people in places he could care less about. Like Egypt, who cared about
that place? No, hearing the tape was the first priority. The possibility that the woman singing
on the tape he’d just bought might be from Egypt escaped him entirely.
The apartment was empty when he opened the door. There was a note on the kitchen
counter from his mother saying she was out with Mike and they’d be back late, and there was
a pizza in the fridge for him. He sighed. Out again with her boyfriend as usual. What did she
see in him? Mike looked young enough to be her son and his stepbrother. He liked boring
opera music though. The boy wished he’s been allowed to live with his dad, his new girlfriend
and their new baby in the country instead. Life was so unfair! So-o-o unfair!
He went to his bedroom and straight over to his hi-fi set. He slipped the tape into the
tape-playing part of the set and pressed “Play”. He then lay back on his bed while the
machine clicked and whirred into action. Strains of indolent acoustic guitar tones trickled
from the loudspeakers while soft violins ebbed back and forth. A tambourine started banging
away … and then THAT voice began to coo and sigh, flirting outrageously with his ears, his
mind, all his senses. He closed in eyes in rapture. A warm tingly sensation started somewhere
in his groin, sending out rays of electricity into his legs and belly, then into his arms and head.
The picture of Topaz with her shining eyes, her moist mouth and long undulating hair filled
his mind. What was the rest of her like? What was she like with her clothes off? His trembling
hands were already hovering over the rising hump of his pants. He undid the fly while her
voice continued to pour sun into all his cells. Song after song, her voice swam in his ears and
her image floated against the backdrop of his eyelids. His blood roared.
Everything went suddenly and intensely white and he exploded and dissolved
simultaneously.
He was lost in a churning, foaming ocean. In the heavens above, unseen angels, each
with Topaz’s voice, sang in one huge choir. Vibrations from their voices made the waters
shudder and froth. He couldn’t see his hands or his body for spongy whiteness was
everywhere. What had happened to him? Where was he? Where was Topaz? Her voices were
everywhere but she was nowhere. The strange thing was, he only felt peace. He was beyond
fear. He felt a peace and security he’d not known since his parents’ divorce several years ago.
Something pulled at him and he dived into a tunnel.
He woke up, feeling refreshed. The tape had finished playing. Surely it couldn’t have
been that short? He sat up and his pants felt sticky. He looked down at the dark stains. “Shit!”
He zipped up his pants and tried to get up only to collapse on the floor. His legs wobbled as
TOPAZ by Jennifer Hor Page 4

he tried to get up so he had to lie on the floor and wait for the feeling to return to his feet and
toes. When he was able to stand at last, he examined the box sleeve but the script was
unfamiliar and he couldn’t find a playing time. He looked at his watch. It was about six-
fifteen and he remembered getting home much earlier than that. The tape must have played
for just under thirty minutes. He looked at the machine again and his left hand crawled of its
own accord up to the “Eject” button to turn the tape around. Wait! Shouldn’t he clean himself
up first? He was frozen for a moment – but she was so beautiful, he wanted to hear more …
His finger pressed “Eject”, his hand turned the tape around and let it slip back in the holder.
Then he pressed “Play”… Jeez, what did he just do? Couldn’t he control his own body? An
airy orchestra began to play, there were people laughing in the background, there was
applause … Topaz’s voice soared out of the loudspeakers and gripped his mind and body
again. He couldn’t move. His being filled up with her voice. She penetrated all his cells, his
chromosomes and genes, described the DNA sequences within them, recreated all the amino
acids in the sequences – she built him anew. The swirling tones of her voice replaced all his
molecules and the chemical processes they followed. He was her complete creation. He felt
himself pulled into a black void, unraveling as the music sucked him into the loudspeakers,
down, right down into the mechanical and electrical workings of a new universe. He was a
shimmering, undulating creature of pure sonic code in which weeping violins and guitar
flowed through his arteries and veins, tabla drums thumped in place of his heart and her voice
radiated through his spine to form a new nervous system.
In song after song his new being lived, breathed and existed. He heard her speak: “To
Paradise we both shall fly / And see the Face of God for all eternity!” Yes! She was taking
him to Paradise! Wait – how did he know what she was saying? She knew no English. How
did he understand her language? How …? She began singing again and he was lifted up by
invisible hands towards the place where the angels would serenade them both and God would
bless their union and reveal Himself.
Strings, tablas and tambourines accompanied their rapid ascent. A white sun shone
down on them. Her voice pulled away from him and he materialized on a layer of cloud. He
saw a young woman with soft gazelle’s eyes, moist red lips and a perfectly oval face framed
by long chocolate-dark hair floating above him. She must be Topaz! He reached out to her but
she remained beyond him. “Topaz – it’s you, isn’t it? Don’t leave me! Why are you going
away? Where are you going? Wait for me! I need you! Don’t leave me here! I – I love you! I
love you! Don’t go away! No! No! NO!”
His shouting woke him up and he was sprawled across the bed, his arms outstretched
and his legs jerking. The bed sheets were askew over the floor. He sat up and looked across at
his hi-fi set which had become quiet. He looked at the time on his watch: ten minutes to
seven. The tape had finished!
TOPAZ by Jennifer Hor Page 5

He flung his face down into the pillow and cried.

The room was dark. He needed a shower, his stomach was growling, the English essay
topic was growing cold on his desk. He decided his stomach was first priority so he went into
the kitchen, got the pizza out of the fridge, unwrapped the packaging and spun the pizza in the
microwave for two minutes. He took the pizza out and let it cool on the kitchen counter while
he searched the fridge again for something to drink. He found a jug of orange juice so he
poured himself a glass to go with the pizza. When he finished, he left the glass in the sink,
wiped the counter and dumped the rubbish into the bin.
The time was seven-thirty. He went back to his room but didn’t feel like writing any
essay. He opened the folder, stared at the essay topic but his mind was blank. He opened up
his laptop to check his email and maybe to try tapping out something for the assignment. He
read a couple of jokes from TJ, an invitation to a party next Saturday … somehow everything
seemed mean and ordinary, as if everyone he knew was just going through the same old
motions over and over. Of course! Since Topaz had come into his life, everything WAS mean
and ordinary now. He looked over at his hi-fit set again and his glance alighted on the
cassette. Before he realised what he was doing, he had gone over to the hi-fi set again, placed
the cassette into the machine and pressed “Play”. His hands hovered briefly over the volume
control knob but too late, the music came curling out of the loudspeakers again and soft
whispers caressed his ears. A nightingale broke into song in his brain. Soft brown eyes,
luscious lips, a river of dark hair, the curves and hidden corners of Topaz’s body: these all
paraded through his mind. He fell to his hands and knees on the floor which turned into a raft
floating down a turquoise river past cool green forests where birds of rainbow hues flitted
through the canopy of scented leaves and orchids.
Topaz’s voice was resounding through his body once more. Every cell of him strained
for her presence. He knew she had to be somewhere in this forest. He scanned the vegetation
to his right and left. He caught a glimpse of a shadowy female figure running in and out of the
trees’ shadows. “Hey! Don’t run away! I need you!” he yelled. He got up and took a step
forward, rocking the raft dangerously. He fell into the water and fought for breath. When he
reached the surface, he began swimming towards the river bank which kept receding from
him. He kept on swimming and swimming, knowing that if he stopped, he would lose Topaz
and would sink to the river’s bottom. Song after song, he continued to swim, the image of
Topaz strong in his mind, until the waters pulled at his tired limbs and he sank into the
blackness at the bottom of the river.
When he came to, he was lying prone on the floor. He blinked and rubbed his eyes. He
got up and saw several pieces of paper on his desk had been disturbed. He went over to look
and saw to his astonishment that there was writing in his distinctive wandering scribble all
TOPAZ by Jennifer Hor Page 6

over the sheets. He couldn’t recall doing any writing at all while the music had been playing
yet there it was. “Am I going mad?” he asked himself. He shook one sheet. He looked around
the room. Everything seemed real enough. What was going on? He read the writing on the
sheet he was holding and it looked like it had something to do with the English essay topic.
Well if he’d been working on his homework while listening to the tape, maybe he should
listen to the second half of the tape and see what happens next! He went back to the machine,
flipped the tape over and pressed “Play”. He heard the little wheels click into action and spool
the header. Then he flung himself onto his bed to wait for the music.
The orchestra and laughter started up, the clapping and cheers came and went …
Topaz’s voice triumphantly pinned him to the mattress, penetrating every part of him again.
His body twitched, shivered and jerked madly in response to the sonic enclosure. Too soon he
heard the words: “To Paradise we both shall fly …” and he was hurled into a storm of dark
hair … he clung desperately at the long strands that whipped his face and stung his eyes … he
could hardly breathe. Mad strings and percussion thumped and clattered as he was hurled into
another world.
Soon he was lying on a layer of white cloud under a brilliant blue sky and Topaz was
sitting beside him, gazing down at his face.
“It’s you,” he whispered reverently.
She nodded. “I am called Topaz by those who follow me.”
“Where are we?”
“We are in the Eternal Paradise.”
“The Eternal Paradise? Really?”
“Yes.” She reached out and stroked the sweat-soaked hair away from his forehead. Ah,
how cool and soft her hand was! Sparks from her fingers flashed through his body. This was
sheer bliss, he and Topaz together, just the two of them. Just the two of them. Just the two of
them?
“It’s just the two of us, isn’t it?” he asked.
“No,” she smiled. She directed his attention up to the blue sky. “There is another with
us – God. You are privileged to see the Face of God, my Supreme God.” As he looked up a
white globe appeared against the bright blue background and his body grew warm and tingly.
Little arcs of excitement raced up and down his spine. The Face of God! The boy began to
pant and perspire anew. Who or what was the Face of God? Was it something that would take
him away from school, nights at home alone and his mother’s boyfriends? He hoped so. His
penis grew hard. His heart beat faster and he felt his face grow hot and red. His blood was
turning into fire. His skin was on fire. His abdomen and pelvis twitched in anticipation.
And then he saw – or he thought he saw – his own face magnified a thousand million
times in a giant eye in the middle of the white globe. At that moment, the fire simmering and
TOPAZ by Jennifer Hor Page 7

heating up within him erupted. Flames and white lava shot out of every pore in his skin,
steaming saliva poured from his mouth, his penis blew up in the intense heat. Thick gobs of
fluid belched from his abdomen. For the last time he found his voice: “Topaz, where are you?
I love you, Topaz! This is great, this is insane … Topaz, Topaz, I’m dying! Don’t let me die!
Save me! Help me! TOPAZ!”
The woman watched as the holocaust consumed itself, the screaming died away and the

last drops of fluid evaporated into the blue infinity. The white cloud was as spotless as before.

She turned her gaze to the white sun and said, “My Lord, the child has left his earthly vessel

upon the bed. It is now yours to possess.”

“You have done well,” the globe replied, “I shall remember you always for your good
work. When I take the child’s shell, I shall adopt the colour evoked by your earthly name as
my standard.”

“Josh?” his mother called when she got home, “are you still up? Shouldn’t you be in
bed yet?”
“Gotta finish my English essay,” he called back in a bright voice, “been working on it
all night. It’s due in another couple of days.”
She was amazed. Usually he just grunted “Yep” or “Nope” whenever she tried to talk to
him. And it was not like him to do his homework well in advance of the due day – he usually
left everything to the last minute! And the music – what happened to that? Usually he had the
hi-fi set howling away – but the whole apartment was quiet! She went to his room and peered
in. The room was neat and tidy and the pile of clothes in the corner near the window was
gone. The boy was sitting at his desk with his laptop and books open in front of him instead
of things tossed all over the floor. Even the bed was tidy with the sheets, though still
crumpled, lying as flat on the mattress as could be.
“Everything OK, Mum?” The boy turned to face his mother.
“Yeah, sort of. I won’t be seeing Mike any more. He’s going overseas on a 2-year
assignment for his company. We agreed it’d be too much of a hassle to keep in touch and
there’s no way both of us could go with him. I know you don’t get along with him and you
wouldn’t like having to tag along with us.” She shrugged her shoulders and wiped her sleeve
across her forehead. “So, it’s all over and it’s just the two of us again.” Normally she wouldn’t
have said so much to her son but tonight he seemed calm, relaxed and open.
“Sorry to hear the bad news, Mum. Hope everything’s OK.”
“It’s all right.”
TOPAZ by Jennifer Hor Page 8

“You might find another guy soon. Don’t worry, Mum.” He looked up at her and even
by the light of the desk lamp, she could swear that his eyes had changed colour from their
usual brown to a clear light brown with a hint of yellow. Topaz, she thought.

THE END