The Other Side
The tinny sound of the tuning A ricocheted through the band shell and wafted out to the audience melting in the sun. Carol stood with her eyes closed, listening in her mind to the performance about to unfold. It would have sounded better in the dining hall, but the camp’s yearly repairs after Labor Day had already started, forcing them to perform outside. The A died. Carol sighed at the strings still out of tune, pulled her shoulders back, and swept her way to the small podium followed by applause.
Poised to give the starting beat, sweat broke out on her palms. Her heart beat accelerated. Her breath caught in her throat. Her recurring dream enveloped her. She was no longer in front of her high school students, but in a car. The garage door was up with the wind blowing in snow. She had a destination, but she merely sat in the car. What if she didn’t go? What would happen if she just sat there? The wind rocked the car gently and snow began sticking to the back. Where did she have to go? What if she just ignored the destination and stayed in the car? Snow whirled around the car as the thought of giving up whirled in her brain. She looked through the side window when the storm stopped and saw the other cars in the garage covered in snow and ice (1). She should at least hit the remote and shut the door. But did it matter? What if she never moved again? The cold crept through her head and began freezing her blood. Her neck no longer moved. Her legs, numb. Her arms, stiff. Only her fingertips had warmth.
A glimmer of curiosity pecked at her. Could she still move her fingers? Slowly, she moved a finger down.
Earthy cello sounds resonated near Carol. Her eyes refocused and she saw her orchestra before her again. Violas had joined the cellos now in their soulful melody that drew warmth out of her heart. Coldness in her chest parted to make way for breathing. The full orchestra drew their bows over their strings in the sullen first movement of Shostakovich’s String Quartet #8. Harsh tones and jagged melodies in the second movement shattered the remaining ice in her body, and she was in full control of herself. The out of tune players in the back of the orchestra reminded her of all the work still ahead of them and she could not let the coldness come so close to overtaking her again. The macabre waltz of the third movement swirled its way to the paranoid fourth movement and at last, the first movement remembered in the last: desperation and acceptance.
Again, applause. She motioned the orchestra to rise, turned, and bowed.
“We did it, Ms. Carter,” said the bubbly concertmistress. “I guess everyone really thought about the piece while you paused for so long. Is that why you paused, so we could remember how it sounds?”
“Of course,” smiled Carol. “Always hear the notes before you play them.”
“Wonderful,” said Dr. Wu. “I’m always amazed at what the kids can do in a few days. My quartet played this long ago, and I’m glad they arranged it for a string orchestra. Is this your festival piece this year?”
“Yes,” smiled Carol. She sighed as the warmth of the real students and parents melted the remaining dream coldness. Congratulations, thanks, and hopes for the coming year were followed by the sounds of trunks opening and closing, car doors slamming and gravel scraping against tires.
“Geez Carol,” said a slender man named Greg. “What took you so long to start the piece?
“I wanted them to really hear it,” replied Carol, going with her concertmistress’ excuse.
“Not that crap about hearing it before you play it again,” said another Greg, equally slender but taller. “Who are you? The music man? His think system was just as much a sham as you.”
“Get over the Tanglewood application already,” replied Carol. They had been sniping at each other for three days, and Carol knew it was because she had succeeded where he hadn't’ “I got to teach there, you didn’t. Move on and quit harassing me.”
“Who’d you sleep with this time to get the gig?”
Carol’s hands shook and her cheeks flared red.
“Why don’t you two Dregs go pack your bags? Your auras are fogging up this beautiful day,” said a woman named Tanya, coming through the audience benches. Sunlight gleamed off a pentacle charm hanging around her neck.
“Gladly,” they said in unison with a smirk toward Carol.
“Don’t let them spoil the weekend. Not many kids can play that piece and not many teachers can get kids together on it so fast.”
“Thanks,” said Carol, watching the two Gregs walk away. “I hate asking them up, but they teach almost all the violins and violas in my class and I hate their constant phone calls when I have somebody else do the sectionals. ‘Who designed this bowing? What were they thinking putting a crescendo there? Oh, you put the crescendo there? That’s just stupid,’ What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I never seen you looking so bad my funky one,” replied Tanya.
“What?” asked Carol again.
“Steely Dan. A youngster like you probably never heard it.”
“It’s actually one of my favorite songs by them. I’m just surprised you quoted it to me.”
“Why? You look terrible and your aura’s all knotted up. You didn’t even look this bad before your audition for principal bass. You need to refresh yourself in the swimming hole.”
“I can’t. I need to get home and do my own practicing. If I get there by four I can still get in eight hours.”
“You’re not practicin’ tonight. We’re going swimming and then to Santa Fe where you’re gonna drink, I’m gonna get sloshed and we’ll make our way home tomorrow afternoon when the hangovers subside.”
“I can’t do that. I have to teach tomorrow.”
“I called you in sick,” said Tanya. She took Carols’ arm and began leading her toward their dormitory.
“You called me in sick? You can’t do that. I’ve got new music for them to start tomorrow and an audition for myself coming up. I can’t go to Santa Fe.”
“Let’s just get to the swimming hole for now and you can tell me why you froze up at the podium. Then we’ll discuss Santa Fe.”
“I didn’t freeze up.”
“You were standing there, and I saw snow blowing around you. Let’s go.”
Carol followed the older woman back to the dorm. There were about five rooms in the dorm, but Carol and Tanya had had to share one because the rest were rented out to a church group on a retreat. Their room was scattered with Tanya’s tarot cards, half- burned candles, and incense stubs. It had the pleasant smell of a new age store. Tanya’s clothes were strewn across the floor and her sleeping bag lay part way open on her cot. The only thing neatly put away on Tanya’s side was her cello in the corner. Carol’s bag was packed and her sleeping bag was rolled neatly with a pair of dirty tennis shoes sitting on top. She quickly found her swimming suit, dressed and put the filthy shoes on when Tanya said, “Oh, there’s my swimming suit.”
While she waited for Tanya, she found her Steely Dan’s Greatest Hits tape and put it in the tape player. They sauntered to the river while lyrics filtered in and out of her head. “On the other side of no tomorrow” struck her curiosity, and she wondered what that would feel like. Pine tree’s combed her hair and pebbles fought their way into her shoes. Carol tried to see endless days with no auditions, no concerts, no students. Tanya started talking, but even the song lyrics were drowning in the sea of emptiness Carol was picturing.
The swimming hole sat as it always did: serenity surrounded by bubbles of water flowing in and flowing out. “Perhaps the swimming hole holds no tomorrow,” thought Carol. She waded out with the cold water biting at each new piece of skin submerging. She stepped off the sandy bottom into the deep water and felt her body sinking slowly. The mesmerizing melody of Saint-Saens’ “Aquarium” from Carnival of the Animals floated in and out of her ears. The murky water wrapped around her eyes. “Is this emptiness?” thought Carol. “If I stayed here, would the music stop?” She moved her head around to see if the darkness was complete. Above her, she saw light and the shadow of a bird landing on the water. The “Aquarium” had almost faded completely when “The Swan” began to play in her head. “My favorite,” thought Carol. The bird stuck his head under water and the two looked at each other. (2) She saw the bird open its mouth and the melody grew louder. Her body began to rise, but an arm reached down and jerked her to the surface.
“What the Hell is wrong with you?” shouted Tanya as Carol spluttered and gasped.
“Where’s the swan?” asked Carol when she could speak.
“What swan? Are you trying to kill yourself?”
“The swan that was on the surface. I was coming up to see it.”
“You must’ve been slipping to the other side. There was no swan.”
“What’re you talking about? I wasn’t down there that long. Where’s the swan. It was so beautiful.”
“Carol! We’re in the Jemez Mountains. No swans migrate over here.”
“Why are you yelling at me?”
“Because you disappeared in the water and I couldn’t find you! Why are you trying to kill yourself?”
“I’m not trying to kill myself. I was just…trying to make the music stop.”
“Oh, is that the euphemism you’re using for it?”
Sweat broke out on Carol’s palms. Her heart beat accelerated. Her breath caught in her throat.
“Hey, now,” said Tanya. “Breathe. This is what you were doing at the concert. Snap out of it and breathe.”
Carol started breathing, but too rapidly. Her whole body trembled.
“C’mon Carol. Relax. Here’s a towel.” Carol felt Tanya wrapping a towel tightly around her shoulders and making her sit in the dirt. “That’s it. Relax. What’s going on with you?”
“I-I don’t know. I keep having this dream where I’m in a car and a snowstorm is blowing but I won’t start the car or go back inside. I just sit there, freezing.”
“And what happened just now?”
“Well, we were listening to that song from “Katy Lied” and I just wondered what the other side of no tomorrow looked like. The water was so black except for where the swan landed.”
“Okay, we weren’t listening to Steely Dan. You were having your own private concert going on in your head. And there was no swan.”
“But I put the tape in before we left.”
“And left it there.”
Carol looked around. Sure enough, there was no tape player and no music. The river gurgled continuously. The breeze blew gently. “I feel like my brain is constantly telling me to do things I would never do, but I’m starting to do them.”
“What did you do all summer?” asked Tanya.
“Taught and practiced and performed. You know how it is.”
“My ‘how it is’ and your ‘how it is’ are completely different. Did you ever take the time to go into Boston?”
“For the gigs I happened to land.”
“When was the last time you had a vacation?” asked Tanya.
“A year ago and I had a headache the whole time until I threw up all day on the last day.”
“And you thought this was normal?”
“I just thought my body didn’t like vacations anymore.”
“Carol! Everybody needs vacations. Did you get laid at least up there? That’s like a mini-vacation if you’re with the right one.”
“No.”
“How long has it been?”
“How long has it been since when?”
“Since you’ve had sex?”
“I don’t even remember.”
“Don’t tell me it was your infamous affair the Dregs are always bringing up.”
Carol finally cracked a smile. “The infamous affair I never had? I think once since then.” She lay back, not caring about the dirt in her hair. Her muscles relaxed under the sun, and she quit shaking completely. The affair was funny when friends like Tanya brought it up. Shortly after graduating from college, she found out that a professor she had refused to sleep with had begun a rumor that she was sleeping with her private teacher. All of her awards and scholarships came under scrutiny, but nothing was ever proven. People like the Dregs who had already been jealous of her used it to nettle her when she was down. Tanya could find the humor in it.
“It’s too bad you never did him because he’s got it going on.”
“I admit to my moments of lust, but that would’ve been a bad situation. You should do him.”
“His girlfriend sits behind me in the symphony or I would. I think she would stab me in the back with her bow if I did. Look, I’m not a shrink, but you need some sort of help. You’re pushing yourself too hard. You teach all day and practice all night when you’re not performing. You’ve been doing this for years. You’re breaking. Take tomorrow off and come with me to Santa Fe. The burning will do you good. As will a few drinks.”
“The burning? Oh! It’s time for Zozobra. I don’t want to do that. Too many people, too much angst.”
“You have enough angst for all of Santa Fe right now. That’s what the burning’s for, to get rid of it.”
Carol searched the sky for the swan. Clear blue stretched before her unbroken by any birds. Imaginary fowl and freezing pipes. “All right,” said Carol. “But I’m not drinking.”
“It’s a start,” said Tanya.
When they arrived in the dorm, Carol noticed that Steely Dan had played through one side. She flipped it over and let it play while she showered. Tanya showered next as Carol dressed, and the song Carol had quoted earlier came on. “When the demon is at your door,” played as a knock sounded outside. “Must be the two Dregs with an intro like that,” thought Carol. She went out to the foyer and saw a man she didn’t know looking in through the door. He grinned at her and beckoned her to open the door. (3)
“Can I help you?” asked Carol as she opened the door.
“Yes, have you seen Tara, a member of my church?”
“I haven’t seen anyone in here, but I’ve been gone all day. You may knock on their doors if you like.”
The man turned his head and looked at the doors. When he turned back, his hair was stark gray. “No one there. They must be preparing for tonight. Oh, and it looks like you will be joining us.”
“What?” asked Carol absently. Her eyes were wide and her jaw was slack. “Oh, no. I’m going to Santa Fe tonight.”
“As I said, you will be joining us. Remember, do not laugh at the natives. Good day.”
“Good…day.” The words died in her mouth as the man turned and left.
“Who’re you talking to?” shouted Tanya.
Carol walked back into the room and said slowly, “This guy looking for a church member. It was the weirdest thing. I swear his hair was brown when I first saw him and then it suddenly changed gray.”
Tanya looked at Carol a full minute before saying, “I’m driving.”
“Don’t be silly. I drove up here fine. I’ve traveled this road dozens of times.”
“You’re seeing things from the afterlife and I don’t want you heading off a cliff with me in the car because you suddenly see that swan again or some man with gray hair.”
“But the bird was really there.”
“I’m sure it was to you, but not to me.”
Carol pondered Tanya. In light of having freaked out twice that day, she decided maybe Tanya had a point. “All right. You drive. What’s the name of the church group here anyway? He said I was going to be joining them soon.”
Tanya’s eyes widened slightly before she turned and started throwing things into her bag. “Oh, just some group. You know they’re all the same to me.”
“What’s wrong? Why’re you so intent on packing all of a sudden?”
“I’m just ready to leave, is all.”
“What’s the name of the church?”
Tanya stood up and looked at her friend again before saying, “It’s not really a church. That’s what they say sometimes so people don’t know. It’s a group that believes in suicide at eighty before they deteriorate anymore.”
“Well why would he think I’d be joining them. I’m far from eighty,” said Carol shrilly. Tanya answered her with silence and began packing again.
Carol was glad Tanya had decided to drive. She slumped in the passenger seat and let her body feel the curves of the mountain road. Enya filled the car with her dreamscape music. The trees whipped by continuously and monotonously, allowing Carol’s brain to escape to the dreamy alpha waves. A sign drew closer and Carol’s eyes lazily read it. “Warning to tourists. Do not make fun of the Natives.” (4)
“What was that?” asked Carol, suddenly alert.
“What was what?” asked Tanya.
“That sign. I’ve never seen it before.”
“What sign?”
“The sign that said “Don’t make fun of the Natives. That man told me that today before he left.”
“I didn’t see that sign and that’s something I’d remember.”
“Maybe you were looking the other way.”
“Maybe.” Tanya began to laugh. “Maybe all the pretentious people in Santa Fe got tired of the jokes about them.”
“But the sign looked old and busted up. I can’t believe I’ve never seen it before.”
“You said that guy said that to you?”
“Yeah.”
“Huh.”
Unease kept Carol from slipping back into comfort. They soon had to slow for traffic rolling into Santa Fe for Zozobra. An hour later, they walked into Tanya’s favorite restaurant. Bright ribbons decorated the ceiling in anticipation of the days of fiestas following the burning. The dim lighting contrasted with the colors, giving a surreal ambience. The owner waved happily to Tanya and motioned them over to a table she had reserved for them. As they were passing through the crowd, a cold, sickly hand grabbed Carol’s arm.
“So glad to see you here,” said the man Carol had spoken to in the dorm. Carol yanked her arm away and gasped. His hair was not only gray, but also his face was wrinkled and shrunk. He started laughing as his skin turned gray to match his hair and his eyes became lifeless. He sat down as his lips pulled together tightly and his eyes rolled back into his head. (5)
“Nice ‘Old Man Gloom’ this year, Diedra,” said Carol to the owner.
“Thanks. A little on the ghoulish side. I thought the brains were a nice touch since he’s supposed to eat all our fears.”
“That’s not a real person?” asked Carol.
“Oh no. But thanks for thinking so. Bob will be thrilled. He worked on that thing for a month. What can I get you to drink?”
Carol mumbled something to Diedra, but sat staring at Old Man Gloom. “Hey,” said Tanya when Diedra had left. “You’re not breathing again.”
“Oh, sorry. That ghoul is creeping me out.”
“Then don’t look at it.”
They made small talk throughout drinks and their dinner. Carol thought it best not to bring up the ghoul talking to her. She tried to keep her eyes averted from him, but it seemed like that just made her look at him more. As desert arrived, a man started pointing to Old Man Gloom and making jokes about him and his brain. Carol saw a white spirit swoop down from the ceiling and pass right through the man. He began silently choking on his food. Fortunately his friend gave him the Heimlich and he was okay.
“Did you see that?” asked Carol.
“Yeah, I’m glad he’s okay.”
“No, did you see the spirit pass through him when he was making fun of Old Man Gloom?”
“No, did you?”
“I don’t want to do this anymore. Let’s just go.” Carol pushed her chair back and stood up. Tears were brimming on her eyelids as she pulled out a handful of money and left it on the table.
“Carol, wait. There’s no way we are getting out of town right now. The burning’s about to start. We might as well stay and watch it.”
“I’m leaving. I’ll come back and pick you up in the morning.” Carol tripped over people and tables as she tried to run out the door. Outside, throngs of people stood by the road.
“Are you ready then?” asked the ghoul.
“No!” screamed Carol as he pulled her arm. She pulled back, trying to escape, but his grip was solid and he drove her into the crowd. The blackness of the night felt like it was suffocating her. The crowds pushed mercilessly at her. Ahead, a giant Old Man Gloom, or Zozobra, moaned and creaked his way towards the crowd. Carol saw little old women carrying it as if they were Olympic weight lifters. Flares of fire shot into Zozobra, and his face and torso began to burn.
“I must go. It is your turn too. Give into your callings and come with me. There the music will stop,” said Zozobra.
Carol was about to protest again, but stopped at the thought of no more music. Silence was all she wanted. No more auditions. No more performances. No more students squeaking their way through orchestra.
As she paused, he said, “’You can run but you can’t hide from what’s inside of you.’”
Carol moved slowly toward the burning man. The old women carrying him were now spirits. He loomed over her, beckoning. The shouts of the crowd thundered in her head, pushing her quicker to the sound of silence. Somewhere in the shouts a quiet tune emerged.
“What is that?” Carol thought to herself. She paused to listen, feeling the ghoul pulling her harder. The simple melody floated this way and that. Carol identified it as a Native American flute. It sounded so simple so pure. She searched for the performer trying to pull her arm away from the ghoul.
“Silence,” he hissed at her.
But the sweetness and simplicity of it had her intrigued. She continued searching. Finally she spied a man in a brown hat, torn shirt and torn jeans. He was playing as if no one else was around. As if the only person he was playing for was himself. The melody was so pure that Carol felt her soul reaching out to join with the music.
“Come! No more music!” insisted Old Man Gloom.
“No,” said Carol yanking her arm away. “I had lost what music was. I found it again so I won’t be joining you.”
Zozobra nodded and floated backwards toward the giant Zozobra. The spirit joined the mockery, and Carol watched it burn into ashes.
“Wake up!” said Tanya, gently nudging Carol. “I thought you weren’t going to drink tonight. I’m glad you didn’t make it back to your car because obviously you weren’t fit for driving.”
“Huh?” asked Carol groggily. She felt hard wood against her back and realized she was sitting in the door jam of the restaurant.
“It was quite a burning this time. Too bad you missed it.”
“Maybe I’ll see it next year. Can we head to the hotel now? I need to sleep…for a few days I think.”
They picked their way through the crowd and found the car. As they waited to leave, Tanya pushed in a Steely Dan tape.
“When the demon is at your door, in the morning he won’t be there no more,” sang from the speakers. Carol sighed in relief as they pulled out of the crowd.
. Good luck in the rest of the competition - I'll be rooting for you 
