Page 115 of Night Songs

“I asked if you wanted to go to the hospital.”

What?

“To see if there’s anyone that remembers her, or if they have any records of Lou’s time there.”

It’s a trick. She’s trying to trap me.

“You can’t just get us the records?” I asked the sheriff.

He shook his head. “No, hon, you’d have to do that. But it don’t matter either way—that hospital shut down in the mid-eighties. It’s a Walmart now. I doubt you’ll be able to find anything.”

I deflated, relief and despair mixing like cold and heat in my gut.

As we made our way across the parking lot, no longer in view of the sheriff, I felt the façade I’d been holding up begin to melt into the asphalt, my body evaporating again, my feet no longer connecting to the pavement. “Can we go somewhere private?” I asked Hess. “I need to regroup.”

“Yes, of course. We can go to a hotel.”

I imagined walking into the lobby, speaking to the front desk clerk, the other guests watching me. I shook my head. “No, I need to be away from people.”

Hess paused, deliberating. “My cabin is not too far from here. About an hour.”

“Thecabin?” I asked.

Hess nodded.

I had always thought of the room in the cabin as a place that only existed in my mind, like a tiny dark compartment in my brain. “Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

“I don’t know. I guess I wasn’t thinking.”

I could taste the lie. “Okay, thanks, that sounds better.”

Hess looked away, as if she regretted bringing it up. “I have to warn you, though… I haven’t been back in decades. It’s probably a wreck.” She paused. “I could just drive us back to Nashville now. We could be there by nightfall.”

“No, it’s okay. I want to see the cabin.” I tried to catch her eye, but Hess wouldn’t look at me.What’s at this cabin?“Look, I can go alone. Why don’t you go home? I’m sure you’re tired, and you’ve already done so much to help me.”

Hess seemed to snap out of whatever had held her, and she finally met my eye. “No, no. I’m fine. Of course I’ll go with you.”

39rhea

2010

TWO DAYS LEFT

Out on the back roads, we turned onto a one-lane gravel drive that twisted through forest slowly reclaiming its territory, forcing us to get out every few minutes and move a fallen branch or clear away brush.

I kept looking for a strange hook in a tree or a distinctive boulder, some trigger of recognition, but the trees were only trees. The rocks only rocks.

The cabin appeared, looking old and vaguely creepy, like the ones they used in horror films. A few of the slats on the porch railing were missing, and a tree had fallen into the roof on one side. I searched again for some gooey feeling of nostalgia, but there was nothing.

Hess studied the place through the window, wincing. “I’m sorry it’s such a disaster. It’s just been sitting here.” She seemed hesitant to leave the car, but once I was out, she followed.

The wooden boards of the porch were surprisingly sturdy under my feet. Hess pulled a tarnished gold key from her ring, and I wondered why she’d carried it around all these years. She turned it in the lock and pushed the door open slowly.

A pile of mail sat at the entrance, and thick sediment covered everything in the small living room. My steps made footprints in the dust as I toed aside the mountain of paper and moved farther in.

There was a table against the wall holding a collection of framed photos obscured by grime, and I used my jacket sleeve to wipe the glass of one. It showed a barefaced Belle leaning against Hess with trees behind them. Hess’s arms were wrapped around Belle’s waist, and her face was wedged into the crook of her neck. It was an intimate, possessive position, like that of lovers.

I picked up the next frame and wiped. Hess held a baby against her freckled chest, her face serene and shining with the light of new motherhood. In another, Hess and a young girl walked hand in hand through an orange grove. The girl sat in Hess’s lap on a tour bus. The girl flipped pancakes in the cabin kitchen, helping Hess make breakfast.