Page 96 of Night Songs

They told the story of a woman, and the many ways she might die.

Electricity streams through the microphone pressed to her lips, melting their red onto the metal and filling her insides with sparks.

A stage light drops from the ceiling, crushing her head in a single blow.

The song said these deaths weren’t chance. No “tragic accidents.” They had happened becausehewilled it so.

I stared out at the audience in terror. If I opened my mouth, I knew I would sing this new song. I could feel it threatening to come up and out like bile.

I noticed a streak of pure white amid the muted tones of the audience, slowly snaking its way from the back of the theater toward the stage. It crawled on its hands and knees.

As it got closer, I saw that it was not a person, but a white dog. That white dog with the bloodstained jaws from my dream. Or was it a dog? It was a dog, and not a dog.

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t get enough air. My hands and feet evaporated, then my arms, my legs, my head, and finally, my chest, with the tree at its center, pulsing with that terrible music.

Next thing I remember was waking up in a hospital bed. Hess and a man in a white coat hovered over me. The doctor said I’d likely collapsed from exhaustion and dehydration, but they were still running tests.

I was so relieved when he finally went away, and it was just Hess and me. I was so scared of what was coming. I needed her now.

I’d been trying to stay in motion the last few years, growing to mythic size and constantly traveling from place to place, so that he wouldn’t be able to catch me.

But I was never going to get away.

And I didn’t want to face it alone. I needed someone to understand what was really happening before it took over.

I said to Hess, “I have to tell you something.”

Hess scooted closer and took my hand. “What is it?”

“My birthday is coming up. I’m gonna be 33.”

She smiled and exhaled. “I know how old you are, Lou. Do you want to plan something special? Maybe a trip so you can relax? Anywhere you want to go.”

“No. Listen to me.”

“Iamlistening. It doesn’t have to be a trip. Whatever you want.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about. I’m turning33.” I took a deep breath, steeling myself. “And I’m scared about the curse. I’m scared something is going to happen. I’ve got this terrible feeling—”

Hess patted my hand, cutting me off. “Oh, Lou. I didn’t know you still believed in all that. I know it must be hard after what happened with your mother. But you are not going to die. I promise you. Nothing bad is going to happen.”

“But I canhearit—”

She cut me off again.

“It’s just the exhaustion. The doctor said it himself. What you need is a break. I’ll talk to the tour manager about suspending your dates until you get better. I know you think you can just stay up for days on end and work yourself to the bone, but even you need rest, my love. It’ll all be okay. I promise.” She kissed my knuckles and then laid them back down.

My heart sank.

I don’t know why I thought she’d believe me this time. Maybe because it wasn’t just a scary story anymore—it was real, and it was happening to me.

But I knew then that she wouldn’t be able to help me. This was beyond her, and it always would be.

We’d built this new reality together, this little life. But I could feel them starting to separate. Her in one world, me in another, the boundary like the edge of a storm: on one side, sunshine, on the other, billowing clouds and lightning thrashing through the air. The low rumble of thunder telling stories of how I might die.

After the doc officially diagnosed me with exhaustion, they canceled the last stops on the tour. It really burned my britches for people to think that I couldn’t perform because I wastoo tired.

But I’m afraid to tell anyone else what is really happening. They might lock me up somewhere, and then I really wouldn’t be able to escape. I can’t trust anyone. Not anymore.