I NEED TO MAKE CLEAR THAT I NEVER CHOSE THE GROUP over Ashley or Paul. I have found accusations of this nature completely debilitating. I never fail to be amazed by how many opinions strangers or pundits have about the kind of mother I am or was. Literally fuck off. I would have crawled across a desert for Ashley. So why didn’t I come running out of the house when she called? Don’t think I haven’t racked my brain over that same question. The thing is, without the support of the group, I would have quite simply lost my mind. There would have been no one for Ashley to call a mother, or for Paul to call a wife. I also can’t overemphasize how responsible I felt for Kyle, who, despite his air of assuredness, was really so vulnerable. I was also operating on months of sleep deprivation at this point and feeling even more light-headed, and almost dissociative since the tunings. When people ask me if I regret that decision, or any decision I made later that night, I tell them that’s not a productive question. I can’t let myself sink into the mire of that kind of thinking.
By the time night fell, a small clutch of concerned neighbours had gathered, along with at least one local news van. Brenda was still out there with Paul, though I couldn’t see Ashley. The police lights strobed through the blinds, bathing the living room in blue and red. At one point, an officer came to the door. Howard and the officer had a brief exchange, which I didn’t catch all of, but it seemed to be about Kyle. Howard wouldn’t let the officer enter, citing the lack of a warrant, but as Howard said this, the officer tried to force his way inside and Howard had to push the door closed on him. Everyone was shaken, and argued for a while about how to prevent the situation escalating any further.
To calm our nerves, Jo kept the indoor lighting dim and soft and played some ambient world music, the kind you might expect to hear in a yoga class or a spa. She prepared some lentil soup for us, which we slurped from bowls balanced on our laps, while sitting around the living room. Nora sat in an armchair, eyes closed, praying bilingually under her breath. She reminded me of a pigeon perched on a ledge, huddled against the rain. At some point, Damian got up to investigate the backyard, I suppose to assess whether we were being surrounded.
Kyle and I sat together on the couch, a little removed from the others. My stomach was in knots and I was letting out little stress farts, which Kyle had the grace not to remark on. Instead, he asked me how I was holding up. Not so hot, I told him. He said I looked ghostly, and in truth, that’s how I felt. Everything felt—thin. It was the only word I could think to describe it. My skin. My breath. My grip on reality.
The Hum feels so intense now, I told him. Ever since the other night, in the park—
What happened the other night was good, he insisted. Please don’t regret it.
I told him that I didn’t.
It’s just that every time we tune, I said, I find it harder and harder to return. Like I feel like if I do it again I might just slip right in, and never come out.
What do you mean ‘never come out’?
Just—lost in it forever.
I could tell I was unsettling him, and I felt guilty. In the midst of all this, he didn’t need me spiralling out. But ever since the other night, it was as though I had been shifted off my foundations. Maybe we had gone too deep. Or maybe we had done it wrong. We should never have tuned alone.
This is all so fucked, Kyle said, glancing towards the window.
I took hold of his hand, and he gently squeezed it.
You know you could end this right now, I said. If you just walked out that door.
He looked back at me, and searched my face—Yeah, and I would never see you again. They’d never let us.
Maybe that’s the sacrifice we have to make, I said, nodding to the others in the room. For them.
He shook his head, not willing to entertain it. I need you with me, he said.
And I need us to leave here, and not in the back of a police car. I’m responsible for you.
We’re responsible for each other. We entered this together.
But—
And we either stay together or we leave together, he said.
Without saying it, we both knew that if we left together they would separate us. We existed together only in the time that remained for us in that house. Like a man crushed below a heavy weight, who lives only as long as the weight continues to press down upon him and dies the moment it’s removed. I told Kyle that I felt like my life had just totally collapsed in around me, like an addict.
I don’t even know what’s left if I remove you from it, I said. Or this house. It would just be me alone with The Hum and—
So don’t. Don’t remove me from it.
The longer we stay in here, the more this is going to build up until it blows. And when it does it’ll destroy everything. Not just us.
I know what you two are doing, Howard said, looking over at us. The others in the room fell quiet and turned our way.
What’s our strategy here? I asked.
Claire, love, we’ve been over this, Jo said.
We’re a group, and we make plans as a group, Howard replied.
Maybe they just need to see Kyle, I said. Or hear from him.
Jo said that if we stepped out that door, they would separate us and arrest us one by one.
As long as we stay, we hold negotiating power, she said.
What negotiating? I asked. They’re asking us to leave and we’re not. We have no demands.
We demand to be left in peace, Howard said.
Well clearly that’s not a viable position, I replied.
We argued for another few minutes, but to no end. After a pause, Mia asked if I was sure I didn’t want something to eat. I told her I couldn’t.
It’s legit delicious, Jo, Shawn said.
Oh thanks. It’s just what I could pull together.
Emily laughed—With three cop cars and a news van outside! I can barely cook when I have Tom’s sister and brother over, I get so stressed.
Mia asked Nora if she had had enough to eat and Nora nodded. Nora was holding the tiny gold crucifix at the end of her necklace. Jo asked her if she wanted to go somewhere quieter, to pray or calm herself down, but Nora said no, she was fine, thank you. Just then Damian walked back into the room from the kitchen and began detailing plans for a possible escape route through the backyard.
Howard cut him off—We don’t need an escape route.
We damn well might.
What we need is to stay calm.
This is not just gonna be the local police we’re dealing with, Howard.
Mia motioned to Damian—Why don’t you come sit with me for a bit?
Don’t, he snapped. I’m not one of your fucking autistic kids, Mia. Don’t use that ‘come sit with me’ bullshit like I’m one of your kids.
Mia looked taken aback and threw her hands up in mock surrender. But before any of us could respond, a man’s voice suddenly boomed over a loudspeaker outside. Just to reiterate—The room fell quiet as we all listened. Our intention is not to use force.
Their intention, Jo said, drily.
We’re not planning to make arrests.
Damian crossed his arms—Right.
We just want to make sure everybody inside’s healthy and safe.
How nice of them, Leslie said.
You know, I kind of feel for them, Emily said.
Mia looked at her—The cops?
They’re just trying to do their job, Emily said, before turning to Damian. I mean you must empathize a little. You know what it is to serve.
This response is completely disproportionate to the situation, he replied.
There isn’t even a situation, I said. It’s just a house with people in it.
But no one’s telling them that, Emily said. They’re imagining a worst-case scenario.
Mia said she agreed with Emily—I think we need to send someone out to be a kind of spokesperson.
No, Howard said. I’ve told you, they’ll rush the door.
It’s a crime to harbour a juvenile runaway, Jo interrupted.
But he’s not, I said. He’s seventeen, he’s not a juvenile.
But if they think we’re holding him against his will—
I don’t want to go with them, Kyle said.
Emily held up her hands to calm him—We know.
They’ll never let me see you again, he said. Any of you.
Leslie reassured him that we were not going to let that happen; though I wasn’t sure how she could make that promise.
We can’t let the situation needlessly escalate either, Emily said.
Mia, having looked something up on her phone, handed it to Jo—Here, look, sixteen without parental consent for leaving home. Yeah? And unless they can prove he’s in some sort of bodily danger they have no recourse.
Well that’s what they’ll try to prove, Jo said, looking up from Mia’s phone. That’s what they’re trying to assess.
I was the one who spoke to the officer, Howard said. Their minds are made up. They will come in here and they will arrest us, and they will take Kyle.
I think we still need some way of communicating with them, Mia said, and Emily nodded emphatically. Silence is way too ominous.
Well we’re not sending people out, Leslie said. They’ll start peeling us off one by one—
What about a sign in the window, Shawn suggested. We just write on a piece of paper something, like, I don’t know, ‘Nine of us in here, happy and safe.’ Uh. ‘Gathering peacefully by choice. Please leave us be.’ Or something.
Oh yeah, that’ll send them packing, Damian said.
Well it’s better than nothing.
Definitely, Emily agreed. Silence is a kind of—
Defiance, Mia said. Like a fuck you.
I’m fine with a sign, Jo said. Howard nodded, and Nora said she thought it was a good idea. Jo looked around the room. Any strong objections? she asked.
No one spoke, so Jo rose from her chair, and left the room to get some sign-making supplies.
And we can keep updating the sign, if we need to, Shawn added.
Leslie said she didn’t think anyone should stand in the window with it, for safety reasons.
No, no of course, we’ll tape it up, he replied.
What, are you afraid they’re going to shoot us or something? Kyle joked, looking at Leslie.
No, I just think the less of our personal images out there, the better.
Fewer, Shawn said.
Sorry?
Fewer personal images. Sorry, I’m a grammar Nazi!
Well maybe you should write the sign, she said, with a little laugh.
Well maybe I will, he replied, imitating her with hilarious accuracy.
Jo walked back into the room holding several sheets of paper, a handful of markers, and some masking tape. All right, so. Let’s—She placed the pieces of paper on a large coffee table book about Brutalism. Maybe write on this book so it doesn’t mark up the table, she said.
I love this table, Emily said, running her hand across its surface.
Thanks, it’s mango wood.
Okay, Shawn said, moving down onto the floor beside the table. Did we like that? ‘Nine of us in here, happy and safe. Gathering peacefully by choice. Please leave us be.’
Why do we have to specify the number? Howard asked.
I said that I thought it made us sound like trapped miners.
So does the ‘happy and safe,’ Jo said, looking at me. Like ‘happy and safe and plenty of oxygen.’
Maybe something simpler, Shawn suggested, like ‘We are gathering in this private residence—peacefully gathering in this private residence by choice. Please respect our privacy.’
Damian nodded. It’s good.
Except that it uses ‘private’ and ‘privacy,’ Kyle said. It’s just a lot of, you know—
Privates, Shawn said, coyly.
So just drop the first one, Mia said.
‘We are peacefully gathering in this residence by choice. Please respect our privacy.’
Great, Howard said. Send it to the printers.
Shawn uncapped a black marker and began to write the sign in clear, bold letters. He misjudged the spacing and had to awkwardly fit the words ‘our privacy’ into an unplanned-for third line, but it was still legible. He then held up the sign and asked—Who wants to do the honours?
Damian suggested Kyle should. So they know he’s safe and—
Happy, Mia said. And has enough oxygen.
And agency, Jo added.
Shawn handed Kyle the sign. Kyle walked over to the window with it, and shimmied in front of the curtains. I could hear muffled exclamations from the crowd gathered outside. He taped the sign up in the window, and then slipped back behind the curtain, into the room—Another news van just pulled up, he said.
Howard’s face fell—Are you serious?
KCTV.
Holy shit. Shawn smiled, in disbelief, as if he were already in the future and looking back on a wild anecdote. Damian walked out of the room, grabbed his knapsack from the vestibule, and returned, pulling out his laptop. He set it down on the coffee table and brought up KCTV’s broadcast livestream.
I don’t want to watch it, Howard said, and Mia agreed.
I kind of do, actually, Shawn said.
Damian held up his hand to quiet the room—I’ll keep it on mute.
I can’t do this, Nora said.
Jo laid a hand on her thigh—It’s awful, isn’t it?
I—I have to go, Nora said, rising from her chair. Her hands were trembling.
Go?
I can’t stay, I’m sorry.
Jo stood and gently grasped Nora’s upper arms—Hold on.
I don’t want to do this anymore.
Everything’s going to be fine.
I don’t want to be part of this, Nora said, stepping away from Jo.
But we made a pact, Jo said.
I know, but I can’t. I’m sorry. I can’t breathe in here.
Do you want to go into the backyard for a moment? Shawn asked her.
I want to go home, she replied, her distress mounting. I want to see my son. I don’t want to be on TV or, or, or in trouble with the police, I don’t want it.
Howard rose from his chair—Nora, we need you now. More than ever.
I’m sorry, she said, shaking her head and tearing up.
I don’t know what to say, Jo replied. After everything we’ve shown you. Everything we’ve been through.
I’m sorry. I love you but I need to go home. I need to see my boy.
So you’re just going to walk out, Leslie said, sharply. Into that mob of police and news crews?
I don’t have a choice.
Of course you do, Jo replied.
This will go away, they will go, Howard said.
I know, but—
He took a step towards her—You have to be strong, and you have to be patient.
But I can’t, I’m not, I’m not strong. I’m scared and I want to leave.
Yes you are, Jo said. I know you are, I’ve seen it.
My mind’s made up, Nora said, summoning what was left of her courage. I’m sorry.
She then turned to the rest of us—I love you all. But I have to go.
She made to exit but Leslie blocked her—Hold on, hold on. That’s it?
I will come back.
No, you don’t get it, Leslie said, pointing her finger into Nora’s chest. If you go, you hurt us all. You make us all vulnerable.
They will try to turn you against us, Jo said.
No, I—
You’re stronger than this, Nora.
Leslie brought her face close to Nora’s—If you walk out that door, you’re not welcome back.
Shawn looked shocked—Les.
That’s betrayal, she shot back at him.
Nora’s face hardened in defiance—Goodbye, Leslie.
Nora made to sidestep Leslie but Leslie grabbed her, and restrained her as she began to thrash and shout to let her go, before Jo swooped in to help Leslie, telling Nora—Love, you need to gather yourself, okay?
Please, let me go, Nora pleaded, terrified.
Howard reached out to calm her—Nora—
Don’t touch me.
We’re all in this together, he said. And we’re trying to protect you.
Let me go, now. Let go of me—she screamed, her face growing red.
Jo now had her in an almost full-body lock—Nora, I need you to focus. All right? I want you to tune with me.
Leslie asked the others for help in calming her. Mia and Damian grabbed hold of Nora’s legs to stop her from kicking. Emily hovered close with no real way to add herself to the struggle. Shawn, Kyle, and I stood a few paces back watching, horrified. I knew I should intercede but I was too stunned to know how.
Guys—Shawn shouted, over the melee.
Love, please, Emily cooed, bending down to look Nora in the face. Think of what’s at stake. Damian reminded Nora that if she walked outside now, they would arrest her, and try to break her.
Enough! Shawn shouted again, his voice drowned out.
And they’re going to turn you on us, Damian continued.
I need you to focus, Jo told Nora, who just kept screaming for them to let her go, her voice growing hoarse. Her brow was sweaty, and her hair dishevelled. I could see Kyle was also in a state of shock, watching all of this unfold.
You’re making this worse for yourself, Leslie told her.
Bring her down to the ground, Howard instructed everyone.
Guys, please—Shawn begged. This is crazy.
On the count of three, Howard said.
I finally rallied and managed to shout—Just let her go.
One—
Please!
Two—
Mia suddenly lost her grip, or maybe released it, and Nora wrested free an arm and elbowed Leslie in the stomach, who grunted and doubled over, destabilizing the mass, and Nora tumbled out, her eyes wild with fear, as she gasped for breath. Dios ten piedad de ti, she spat at us, before dashing out of the room, tearing open the front door, and running from the house.
Jo pointed frantically at the wide-open door, shouting—Lock it, lock it, lock it!
Damian scrambled to the door, slammed it, and locked it.
That was not okay, Shawn shouted.
It didn’t have to be like that, Mia said, shaking her head.
Leslie straightened up, pained and manic. Good fucking riddance, she barked towards the front door.
I looked at Leslie, at this woman I had called a friend for nearly half a year, this woman I had shared some of my most intimate secrets with, and she suddenly seemed like a cruel and desperate stranger with another woman’s lipstick smudged across her blouse. She turned to the rest of us—Honestly, I don’t even think Nora ever felt it. I think she was faking it the whole time.
And then we noticed, on Damian’s laptop screen, the live television feed of Nora pushing past reporters at the end of the driveway. Damian unmuted his computer, and we watched as they descended on her with questions.
Someone has finally emerged from the house. Let’s just—ma’am?
How many are in the house?
Ma’am, what’s your name?
How many are inside?
Were you a hostage?
Jo exhaled beside me, shaking her head at the screen.
My god, Mia murmured.
What’s happening inside? asked one of the reporters. Can you describe the situation?
Are you a member of a sex cult?
Nora looked dazed—What?
Emily looked up from the screen at the rest of us with horror. Did he just say—?
No. No, no, Nora said, shaking her head, and doing her best to push her way through the crush.
Is it a sex cult, ma’am?
Ma’am, who’s inside?
Jo just continued to shake her head—Wow.
Did he say a ‘sex cult’? Emily asked.
Where the fuck did they get that from? Damian muttered into his fist. Though the moment I heard those two words, I knew exactly who had formulated them, and said them to the press. My heart felt like a time lapse of a rotting orange, mouldering and imploding.
Who are they? asked another reporter.
What does that even mean? Emily asked, searching our faces.
Can you give us names? asked a reporter.
They are my neighbours, Nora said, looking into the camera, her mascara smeared. They are good people.
And so it begins, Howard said, to himself.
As Nora disappeared from frame, a reporter stepped back in front of the camera. So as you just saw, we’re still not sure who that woman was, but she seems to be either a member of the Sequoia Crescent Cult, or possibly someone being held hostage by them. What we do know so far is that seventeen-year-old Kyle Francis—at the mention of Kyle’s name, his yearbook photo appeared on-screen—a recent graduate of F. G. Saunders High School, is inside the house at this moment, allegedly being held against his will. Also inside the house is his former English teacher Claire Devon—a somewhat blurry close-up of my face in the group photograph of the school’s teachers appeared on-screen—who was fired earlier this year after it emerged—
Leslie slammed the laptop shut—I can’t.
Thank you, Howard said.
Shawn pointed to Leslie and Jo—That was fucked up.
She betrayed us, Leslie fired back. We’re family.
People can come and go as they choose, he said, raising his voice overtop of hers. If someone—
You don’t choose your family, Leslie countered. You don’t leave your family when the going gets tough.
If they’re abusing you?
Abuse? Jo seemed almost impaled by the word. Who was abusing anyone?
I’m just saying—
We shared the most intimate part of ourselves with her.
If someone wants to go—
If someone wants to go they should do it now, Leslie said, pointing at the door, because let me tell you the going’s about to get a lot tougher. So bail now if you’re going to bail.
She paused dramatically and looked around the room—Anyone?
Jo looked over at me and frowned—Claire, do you have something to say?
I felt like I had stumbled unwittingly into the line of fire—No.
It looks like you do.
I—
Kyle looked at me with concern—Are you okay?
I was confused by their attention, until I realized my mouth was opening and closing, like a fish, and I was shaking, slightly. I suddenly felt like I might collapse. But I told them no, I was fine, really. I just wanted them to stop looking at me.
We’re all a little shaken I think, Emily said, trying to dispel the tension.
Howard gestured to the closed laptop—This could undermine everything we’ve been working for.
Leslie nodded, still fuming—Everything.
They’re going to move in, Damian said. There’s no way out of it.
Jo said it wasn’t helpful to catastrophize.
Howard pointed to the window—Jo, there’s a live news broadcast outside our house right now.
Yes, I just watched it, I’m aware.
They’re calling us a sex cult.
She raised and dropped her arms—Yup.
I would say this is pretty catastrophic.
What did you expect? she asked, leaning in towards him.
Well—
She turned to the rest of us—What we are doing is historic. Of course there’re going to be news cameras. And misinformation, and fear-mongering, and discrediting. We knew that.
But what are we? Emily asked. Really? We can say that we’re not this or that, but what are we?
Leslie asked her if it mattered, and Emily said yes, she thought very much. Even just for ourselves.
I’m not sure I feel the need to, Howard said.
Then people will name it for us, they can’t help it.
It scares them if they can’t, Jo said.
Shawn seemed to consider Emily’s point for a moment—We’re a—like—
A cell, Damian said.
A what? Mia asked.
You know, like a—
That makes us sound like terrorists, Shawn said.
Leslie said she also didn’t feel the need to define what we were.
We’re just neighbours, Kyle offered. Like Nora said.
Neighbours who share a gift, Mia added.
A momentary lull fell over the group, and we listened to the din from outside. The hubbub of bodies, amassing. The squawk of walkie-talkies. Cars pulling up, doors opening, slamming. It felt like a siege. Like we should be pouring cauldrons of hot tar from the rooftop, or bracing the front door for a battering ram.
Jo looked around the room at each of us, slowly rose to her feet, and suggested we tune.
Damian looked perplexed—Now?
We need to hold on to why we’re doing this.
Howard nodded, and Emily said she thought it was a good idea.
Surrounded by cops? Damian asked.
We need whatever power, and strength, and unity we can draw from it.
Damian removed his handgun and placed it on the coffee table again—Then I’m damn well putting this here.
Howard asked him please not to, but Damian wasn’t having it.
Howard, if we’re tuning with our eyes closed, surrounded by cops—
Listen—Howard cut in, but Jo placed a hand on his shoulder to tell him to drop it.
We will protect each other, Leslie said.
Damian gestured around the room—Don’t think they aren’t listening to us, right now.
Well let them, Jo said. We’ll listen deeper.
She extended her arms and the group took this as their cue, moving down off their chairs into kneeling positions on the floor. They began to arrange themselves in a circle, when another voice came echoing over the loudspeaker.
Emily?
Emily’s hand shot to her mouth.
Can you hear me?
This time it wasn’t a police officer—it was Tom.
Oh Jesus, Mia said.
Emily, I’m uh . . . I’m on the road here, outside. If you can hear me, please come to the window.
Leslie looked pointedly at Emily—Don’t.
Emily nodded, but I could tell she was wrenched.
Everyone in a circle, Jo said.
I love you, sugar. And I’m scared for you.
Howard implored Emily to ignore him—They’re baiting you. You have to be strong.
Please come to the window.
Emily rose from her chair—Maybe I should just—
She was greeted by a chorus of nos from Leslie, Jo, and Damian. She hesitated, and then made for the window, but Damian grabbed her and she yelped, breaking down in tears.
Lash yourselves to the sails, Howard said.
Kyle, kneeling, looked back and noticed that I was still sitting on the couch. He leaned over and, in a whisper, asked if I was okay. I told him that I didn’t know if I was ready to tune again. I was worried I wasn’t in the right state. But things were happening faster than I could register. The circle was ready and waiting.
You’re not in trouble, Em. The police just want to make sure you’re okay. We’re all worried about you.
Claire, what’s wrong? Jo asked me, putting her arm around my shoulders.
I know you can hear me. Please don’t—don’t do this to me.
I’m worried I’m not strong enough, I told Jo.
Just walk out that door and walk into my arms and I can drive you home, okay?
Strong enough for what? Jo asked.
And we can put all of this behind us.
Strong enough for what, Claire? she asked me again.
Of course you’re strong enough, Leslie said from the floor.
What if I never come out? I asked.
Jo looked confused—You mean of the house?
I looked over at Emily. She was composing herself, wiping her eyes dry, and hugging Damian back, thanking him for restraining her. Howard, kneeling alongside Shawn and Mia, gestured over to me—Come on, Claire.
I want you to take a deep breath, okay? Jo said, looking into my eyes. I nodded, and inhaled, like an obedient child. That’s it, Jo said. Good. Now, come down onto the floor with us. I think everything will feel clear and centred again once we begin tuning.
Not knowing what other option I had, I slid down off the couch and joined the circle.
Okay, Jo said, looking at each of us. We’re all here. We’re all present. I know we’re all in a very heightened state at the moment, but we can channel that intensity. Okay? I want everyone to focus. With every ounce of energy you have in your bodies. Let every other sound fall away. Welcome The Hum in. Let it penetrate you. Let it fill you.
We closed our eyes and, gradually, The Hum began to emerge from us, moving through us, using our bodies as its conduit.
Let it replace you, Jo said. Atom by atom. Until you are nothing but the frequency of the Earth.
I could see the blue and red strobing light through my eyelids. The room was throbbing. The Hum built in intensity, until the room and our bodies grew hot, until another police officer’s voice came over the loudspeaker—You have five minutes to exit the premises through the front door in a calm and orderly fashion. And then he repeated himself, his voice crackling through the night. But we could not hear, not above our own raised voices, groaning, wailing, on the verge of becoming and coming apart, fevered and unbounded, thrashing, writhing, possessed, deeper through time, deeper through sound, deeper into flesh, sound into flesh, flesh into light, tearing at myself, tearing through time, tearing our clothes off, knocking over furniture, toppling over tables, lamps, vases—
Claire?
I could hear Jo’s voice.
Claire! Kyle shouted, trying to grab at me but I wasn’t there, I was shrieking, naked and unfurled into the sound, lashing like a flag on a mast in a hurricane, voices, the voices of the others in alarm—
What’s happening?
I don’t know.
Oh my god.
And me, my own voice—I can’t get ahhhhhhh ugh—
Just—steady her.
I’m broken, I heard myself—Broken. Broken.
Broken?
Claire, look at me.
Broken through and it’s p-p-p-p-p-p-pouring into my a a a ahhhhhh—
What’s—?
Claire, stay with me. Look at me. Look at my eyes. Listen to my voice. Stay in the room.
Have you seen this before?
No, I don’t—
What’s happening?
Stay with me, Claire. Listen to my voice, hold on to my voice.
Convulsing on the ground now. Paroxysms. Pppppp—
Oh fuck.
Someone do something!
Do what?
Oh my god.
She’s having a seizure.
No, she’s not.
Maybe she broke through.
Broke through what?
Give me the blanket—Mia’s voice.
Blanket?
Just—
Leslie grabbed a blanket from the couch and tossed it to Mia, who wrapped me up in it like a baby, and tried to calm me, shushing and whispering into my ears as I shook, sweating, lolling, lllllahhhhh—
Keep her tongue out of her throat.
It’s okay, Mia said. I’ve got you.
Kyle told them I was afraid I might fall in and never come out.
Fall in?
I’ve got you, Claire, it’s okay, it’s—
Butbutbutbut I broke free from Mia’s grasp, the blanket, tearing, tearing what was left of my clothes, The Hum tearing through me, flag on a mast, vicious—
Claire—
Somebody—
What’s she doing?
She’s overheating.
Get her some water.
Why’s she making that noise?
Dear god.
Ygghhhh dear god ugh gaaaauuuuuuuuggghhh—
Water!
Shawn ran to the kitchen.
Someone said—Claire, please.
Just grab the jug from the fridge!
Naked. Winds of time, of sound, on the mast. Shawn re-entered at a jog with a jug of water, plastic, see-through, condensation; he handed it to Jo, who poured it over me, just doused me with the ice water.
Holy shit.
Sputtering, gasping. Jo clapped her hands loudly in my face.
Come back to us, Claire!
Ahhhhhhlll of me—in—
Yes.
Come on.
Trying to form words. Making shapes with my lips, tongue—
That’s it.
I think she can hear you.
Aahhhhcckk—couldn’t do it.
What is it, love?—Emily’s voice.
Back up, give her space.
Claire?
K—I said.
It’s me. It’s Kyle, said Kyle’s voice.
K—K—Coming—to—
Come back to me, Claire. Come back. Come back to me.
His hands on my face but I was wailing, embarrassing, why, hands on my face, I, I, I, gotta go gotta get out out of here my skin this room this house this life this sound this sound is too much, all too much, I ran, ran to the front door—Claire! Grab her! Oh fuck fuck fuck—I ran to the front door, unlocked it, and I was out, outside on the front step, the front walk, dazzled by the glare of cameras, police lights, iPhones, gasps, naked, and drenched and shivering from the fridge water, my breasts, my mind, I stumbled a few steps, news cameras, reporters, everyone drawing closer, where’s Ashley? I couldn’t see through the lights, the crowd, I was shaking, I was the sound. I had become. I opened my mouth. I opened my mouth to speak and I said—There has been a revelation!
And at that moment, Howard and Jo grabbed me from behind, and hauled me backwards, back inside, through the door, and slammed and locked it behind them.
Howard’s face in mine—What are you doing?
Claire, are you there?
I was everywhere.
What happened, Claire? Talk to us.
I tried to say more but the words crowded my mouth. Howard took hold of my face by my chin, firm, and gave me a little shake, stop that Jo said, I batted away his hand, and stumbled back, don’t touch her, stumbled back and steadied myself. I looked at Jo. And I saw her.
I saw Jo. And I was back.
I was back in the room. I tried to catch my breath. Going to vomit. No. I saw the others. I saw them watching me, afraid. I blinked and I turned to Jo. I turned to Jo and I said—I was you.
I turned to the others and I said—I was all of you. I was the floor. The house. Inside of the refrigerator. The mustard. The eggs. The tree back there, and the worms below, pushing my face through the dirt of, of life of being in the fucking life of it all, my god oh my god, I can’t even begin, I didn’t begin or end, I had no ending, I was everything—infinite, distant stars, buildings, skyscrapers and the birds—I clapped—smashing into them.
I turned to Kyle, his face full of fear—You. I was you. Making love to your wife, I was your wife twenty years from now, and your shit in the toilet, your child, your grandchild, jumping into the pool, the water in the pool. There was—I can’t even, I don’t even know what era I’m talking, am I talking? I guess I am, now. I’m here, back in my—Wait. Did I? Where’s Ashley? What time is it? The thing is—there is no thing, everything is the thing, is indistinguishable, just atoms moving, changing places, all of it the same, same thing, and um—the thing, the thing I was going to say, oh I wasn’t afraid of death! What is it? It wasn’t—death isn’t, it doesn’t happen, everything just changes places, it’s all the same, don’t worry about it. Family. Doesn’t matter. The people you love. Doesn’t really matter either because it’s all just, you, me, strangers, the bus, it’s all just atoms changing places, over time, coming together and apart. Horrible, in some ways, right?
Kyle reached out and touched my shoulder—Claire.
What is a body? What is this? I asked, putting my hands on the coffee table.
It’s a table, Kyle replied.
But what is it? I asked, desperate. I was this. Thing. What is sound? Just space in between. I was sound. What is that? A voice? I heard your voice. I heard your voice in time. In space. There was a moment. I wanted to. I thought I was gone. Forever. I thought I was, replaced by sound, rearranged, forever. But okay. I was okay with it. I was not afraid. I heard your voice, and I was not afraid. For the first time.
I looked Kyle in the eyes—I heard your voice. And I knew who I was.
The Hum suddenly spiked, deafening, and the front door blasted open, and in poured officers in tactical gear, three, four, and the crash of the back patio doors being smashed open. Damian dived, grabbed his gun on the coffee table, and raised it. As he did, an officer opened fire, hitting both him and Kyle. They fell to the ground. Like punching bags cut from their chains. All of this in a matter of three seconds, but in slow motion. Shattered glass everywhere, how? Damian, wounded, fired back, hitting the police officer. Two other officers opened fire, striking Damian three times in the chest. All of this in another four seconds. Kyle was not moving. I was on the floor, holding him. Somewhere someone was screaming. I was clinging to Kyle. Warm and wet in my hands. Clinging to him like he was my boy. But he was not clinging back.