CHAPTER 16 – Lead Belly

Thursday.
Audition Day T-minus 51 days.

Eppie woke at 5 AM. She washed, dressed, dragged one of her roommates to Yoga, then ate breakfast with Josefina.

Her morning classes were blocks, meaning she had an hour free to practice her lines and fiddle with the loaned guitar. She was eager to practice because she had spent 10,000 odd [Causality] when she got home, dropping somewhere between 6,000 and 7,000 on [Guitar] and the rest on [Roulette].

The result spoke for itself.

Knowledge of a kind had once more wormed its way into her burning brain. She had only known a single version of the song by Nirvana, and had assumed that Kurt had written the song. What she had never known was that the song belonged to no one, that its melody and lyrics were legacies of an unknown blues singer whose work had survived the 19th century, moving from the rural Appalachian South into the mainstream consciousness. Over the years, from “In the Pines” to “Where Did You Sleep Last Night,” every notable music era has had an artist who took to the song with their soul.

Considering the Karmic nature of her gifts, the [System] clearly knew something about the near future that she did not.

“In the Pines…” was not a song on the same plane of fatalistic melancholy as Starry Starry Night. Its opening lyrics were indisputedly haunting.

My girl, my girl, don’t lie to me.
Tell me where did you sleep last night

Then came the horror.

Just a mile and a half from here
His head was found in a driving wheel
But his body never was found

What would have been a father asking a child where she stayed last night suddenly became an interrogation by an officer of the law. It spoke of sexual violence, a sordid affair, a young girl who was forced to do what was necessary to defend herself. The Pines… was not a place of warmth. It was a place of Dark Sanctuary, an ephemeral plane of liminality, the resting place of a shivering, terrified victim.

She did not know why this song was gifted to her as of yet, but…

The [System] responded to context; this was what she had now confirmed.
Only now… Eppie shivered.

She deeply and sincerely hoped the lyrics were not about her.

Theatre continued with David Cooper’s voice classes, with the Chair’s contoured, athletic form demonstratively anchoring the students to the floor. Eppie’s instructor spoke without a microphone, his voice carrying a natural reverb that would be perfect for songs like “Into the Pines.”

True to his resume, Dr Cooper was as meticulous as a coroner in his dissection of his students’ aural projections. Each to each, he corrected their breath, their breathing, the way their jaws restricted or tightened their projection, the placement of their face toward or away from the audience, the feeling of intent in their voice.

For Lucy’s Ismene, Cooper forced the air from her lungs until only a weeping, terrified choke remained. “Feel the hollow of your chest. Feel the breathlessness. Ismene does not want to confront her sister. She doesn’t even want to be seen. She wants to disappear, be invisible, so Creon doesn’t notice her.”

Before the Antigone volunteers got to show their stuff, however, Cooper brought in Seyrova to help the rest of the students establish the Chorus Ensemble. These were the citizens, the city, the ambient noise standing between the “King and the Girl”.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

“Bare witness now to history!” Cooper’s voice boomed. “You are the eyes of heaven on earth, the bespoken of God and Man.”

Together, the instructors took a good thirty minutes to align the members, fixing their alignment, their stiff knees, their unnatural gait, and their desire to suddenly break out and lead the group.

They practised the whispered shout, a low murmur intensified by the acting body, roaring from the core of the chest, loud and yet hushed, audible and yet intimate.

When all was said and done, an intimidating crowd of former friends was fully ready for the Antigones.

“Who shall be our first sacrifice?” Cooper announced to the girls.

Naturally, Madison stepped forward, her ponytail swishing confidently.