Angela Morrison - Sing Me to Sleep

Touch the sky?

Who am I kidding? . . . The dream turns to dust

As I bow to do your bidding. . . .

Can she be beautiful?

Will all the people love me ? . . .

Beautiful prince who says

He’ ll keep me warm—

I come to the verse I wrote after the prom about Scott: The scent of you on my fingers / Makes me crazy while it lingers .

Scott loves me. Scott wants all of me. He doesn’t expect me to do this stuff I just can’t do. It’s way too hard to go on with this masquerade. I grab “Beth’s Song” and tear the pages in half again and again and again.

It’s too late, anyway. Derek’s broadcast is this weekend.

I go on the Amabile guys’ Web site and print off the details. I told him I’d be up on the train. If he’s anywhere, he’ll be there. I don’t know if I have the guts to confront him, maybe lose him, but I have to see him again soon or I’ll lose my mind. I Google it and manage to buy myself a one-way ticket online. I’ll get a taxi to take me where they’re singing and make Derek take me home.

What will he do when he sees me there in the audience invading his turf? That’s how it feels. I know it’s stupid. Why am I going? Why don’t I just leave him alone? Call Scott. No. Derek wanted me there. Correction, he wants me there.

Saturday evening our early Christmas concert to celebrate our debut CD’s release is packed. Halfway through our first number, Scott slips into the back and stands by the usher. He smiles at me and gives me a thumbs-up. I smile back at him and feel like I’m totally betraying Derek.

We get through the first half and swish off the risers, a mass of shimmery crimson in our gowns that still feel new and special. We file out of the room. I hope the people in the audience don’t want their money back. I’m singing fine, but I can’t find the magic that transforms me and the power to bring them along. Our CD is for sale in the foyer. Maybe I’ve just killed its success.

We crowd into the big room in the back of the building with faded Bible pictures taped to the wall that we use for a dressing room. It’s better than the basement, but not by much.

I pick up a water bottle and go over to a window, stare into the dusk while I gulp it down. I set the bottle on the sill and put my forehead against the cool glass.

“Hey, Beth—look what I found.” Sarah waves me over to an old TV in the corner. “It’s them. Oh, gosh, there’s Blake.”

I turn and stare at her.

“Did Derek tell you they were going to be on TV?”

I feel like I’m moving underwater, but it’s thick, like honey, won’t let me through. Somehow I’m across the room peering through the blurry TV at Derek in his tux standing in the middle of his choir, singing at the movie premiere in Toronto. He’s incredibly pale. Almost blue. Maybe it’s the lighting. He looks ultrathin, too.

Crap. He looks so sick. How could I have been so blind all this time? Blinded. That’s what it was. Totally blinded. I saw what he wanted me to see.

Sarah turns to me. “Derek looks awful. What’s wrong with him?”

“I don’t know.”

She looks at me funny. Other girls crowd around now, pushing to see. While we’re watching, Derek sways and pitches forward. He’d be flat on his face if the two guys next to him didn’t have quick reflexes.

I make a weird startled sound.

The camera cuts away to the director. Mr. Tall Wispy Beard keeps going like the guy I love didn’t just turn white as death and keel over. When the camera goes back to them, the boys are singing as if nothing happened, except Derek and his two rescuers aren’t in the picture.

The whole choir stares at me. I’m frozen. I’ve got to move. I’ve got to get up there. Now. How far is it? Will Jeannette get me all the way to Toronto? Of course. She’s solid, but how will I find him?

I don’t care. I don’t care. I don’t care.

I thaw enough to hold out my hands. “I need cash.”

Girls in long shimmering red run to purses, shove fives and tens in my hand. Meadow’s got a stack of twenties.

I grab my purse and jacket and head to the back door. “Tell Terri I’m sorry. You guys can do it without me.”

“Your gown! ” Leah calls. I’m not supposed to go outside in it, but to hell with that. I’ll try not to drag it through the snow and mud in the parking lot.

I push through the door and plow smack into Scott.

He catches me by both elbows. “How did you know I was out here?”

“Let me go, Scott.” I try to wrench away. “I have to leave.”

“Are you okay?”

I can’t answer him.

He still doesn’t let go. “Listen, Beth. I’m just going to say this one more time. I’m here. Look around.”

“Let me go! ” I flail my arms and break his hold. “I don’t have time for you, Scott.” I turn and rush away, cringe at how cruel those words echo in Scott’s stunned silence behind me.

He shouldn’t have gotten in my way.

He shouldn’t have gotten in my way.

He shouldn’t have gotten in my way.

If I say it enough, I’ll believe it. Maybe even he will, too. As much as my heart is racing for Derek, I don’t want to hurt Scott. I care for him—more than I should. And I owe him. He’ll never know it, but he rescued me again and again during this impossible blank time.

As I speed up I-94, the numb shock that got me out of the concert and onto this freeway pushing Jeannette to her max speed warps into absolute terror. What ravaged Derek like that? What’s taking him away from me? He said it would get better. I believed and believed and believed. Crap. He just fainted on TV, and they all kept on singing.

I’m going to find him and force him to tell me everything. No more nice, purring Beth making believe everything’s fine, waiting and waiting and waiting. The Beast is loose, and she’s not going back in her cage.

My cell rings as I’m passing that dumb giant tire marking the outskirts of Detroit.

“What in the world—”

“I don’t even know, Mom. It’s Derek. I’ll probably stay up there.”

“Where?”

“I’ll call back when I know.”

I get all the way to the border before I realize I don’t have a clue where I’m going. There’s a line of cars way backed up, so I start dialing Blake’s cell. Over and over and over. He finally picks up.

I yell, “Where did they take him?”

“Beth?”

“I’m on my way. What hospital?”

“They’re going back to London.” Blake’s voice is maddeningly calm.

I pound on the steering wheel with my free hand. “All the way to London? Are they crazy?”

“The bleeding stopped. He’s okay.”

“Bleeding?” Oh, my gosh. “Are you in the ambulance with him?”

“What ambulance?”

A car honks behind me. “Stop confusing me.” I pull Jeannette forward.

“His parents took him back down to the lockup in London.”

“Crap—he’s in jail?” Is it drugs after all?

“Geesh. You’re stunned.” Blake laughs. The creep laughs. “You know that’s what he calls the hospital.”

“The lockup?”

“We sprung him for this weekend. He refused to miss it.”

I’m pressing the phone so hard into my ear it hurts. “He was in the hospital! ” I yell into the phone.

“How can you not know that?” Blake yells back at me. “He practically lives there.”

I pull forward again as a sleek black sedan rolls through the border crossing.

Blake is still ranting at me. “What kind of a crap girlfriend are you?” His vicious tone rips me apart. “You should have been there with him every second you can. He needs the motivation to hang in there. Look at today.”