Page 26 of Heart Strings

“I know. Are you okay?”

The question caught me off-guard. “Sure. Why shouldn’t I be?”

“You’ve been acting off all day. Not hearing me when I say things, staring at nothing - you know, typical lost-in-thought stuff.” He flashed me a smile and we sat down in the Sierra-free living room together.

“Yeah, I know. I kind of wanted to talk to you about…things. Us.”

That same engine rumbled outside as the car pulled up to the house again. “She’s not actually back, is she?” Al groaned. “Hang on.” He went to deal with it, and I closed my ears. I didn’t want to hear any more from Sierra.

Searching for comfort from the raging, confused thoughts that clouded my mind, I began humming the Voodoo song I had received in a dream. Even though the tone was low, whenever I hummed it or played it, I could feel my spirit shifting closer to my great-grandmother’s, drawing comfort and strength from the connection. She had sent this song to me… She must have, and just in time for the end of the semester and my audition with the Louisiana Philharmonic Orchestra. A little extra push to get me through these last trying times.

“Again?” Al let himself sit heavily on a chair - not on the couch beside me, where he had been. “Seriously, what is that song? It’s been stuck in your head for over a week now.”

I had jumped when he spoke the first word, somehow not hearing him come in. “It’s from my sheet-”

“No, it’s not,” he interrupted. His voice was angry for the first time today. No, the first time - he’d been angry at Sierra. But this time, he was angry at me…and now I noticed how dark his brow grew, how his eyes turned stormy, and how the muscles in his jaw worked. “It’s not from some elusive piece of sheet music. I know you’re lying, and I don’t understand why you would lie about something as stupid as a song.”

“I-I’m not-” I automatically began to defend myself, crushing the tears I felt welling in my eyes.

“Are you embarrassed about it or something? Have you been sworn to secrecy?” The sarcasm in Al’s voice grew by the second.

“No, nothing like that-” Wait, was I embarrassed about the true nature of the song? Not exactly…but it scared me. It scared me that Voodoo scared most people because they didn’t understand it, it scared me a little that this song sounded the way it did, and it scared me most of all that Al might be one of those people who couldn’t accept Voodoo.

There was a reason I didn’t talk about my quest to connect with a dead relative. Only my closest friends knew the reason I wanted to do it, and they didn’t think I was crazy or weird.

Al leaned forward, and the anger melted out of his eyes. “I just want the truth, Abby. I’m tired of lies. I’ve heard so many of them from Sierra, and I was hoping I wouldn’t have to hear them from you too.”

That struck me right in the heart. I realized that I had a choice to make. I could keep lying - maybe make up another, better lie - and spare myself a potentially disturbing explanation, or I could tell Al the truth…which could possibly turn him off toward me. Both were risky. Both could cause me to lose Al.

The only people that knew about me wanting to connect with my great-grandmother were Maggie and Zoe, and I had known them for years. Voodoo wasn’t that big of a deal with a lot of people. It was kind of a hidden subculture around New Orleans - had been for centuries. Sure, there was a dark side, but I wasn’t involved in that.

How then could I expect a man I had only met a few short weeks ago to understand?

I could. I would, and I had to. I couldn’t keep lying to him. It just wasn’t fair, and…well, I sucked at it. He would know I was lying and we would be right back where we started; except he wouldn’t be able to keep his calm at all like he was trying so hard to do at the moment.

“Okay,” I said a little shakily, also leaning forward. “I’ll tell you, but it’s kind of…strange, okay? Not strange for me, but strange for a lot of people.”

“Okay?” Clearly, that hadn’t been where he expected me to take this. Still, he sat back and listened, bulky arms crossed.

“Um…okay, so you know I’m Catholic, right?” A nod. “Well…I am Catholic… but I also believe in something else. Voodoo. It’s kind of like… an extra spiritual side.” I winced, realizing I was doing an awful job of explaining this. “For me, it’s a way of keeping in contact with my ancestors,” I said quickly, jumping at a much better explanation that came to mind.

Al stared at me for what seemed like several minutes. “All right,” he said cautiously. “Like…visiting graves? I go visit the graves of my grandparents sometimes.”

“A little more than that. My, uh-” Wow, saying this aloud made me realize how weird it all sounded. “My great-grandmother was a famous concert pianist. She’s with me….watching over me, helping me and guiding me….to become a concert pianist like her.”

Everything before that, Al seemed to have been able to grasp. At this, I could tell I’d lost him. “What?” was all he had to say, and I couldn’t blame him.

“Her spirit,” I tried to explain. “Her spirit is with me. Remember when we stopped at that house on the way to the airport? I was visiting someone who helps me contact my great-grandmother’s spirit.”

“And she wants…for you to be a concert pianist. Interesting.”

I waited anxiously. “Just…interesting?”

“Yeah, just interesting.” He stood up. “Let’s get what we came here for and head back to the condo.”

Clearly, I wasn’t going to get anything more of Al’s thoughts from him right now. Heart heavy, I followed him down the hall. I had done a pretty terrible job explaining my situation.

Now, all I could do was wait and see what Al did with what I had told him.

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