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“Yes,” I sighed. I had never said that it was a good idea. “We didn’t stick with it for long. Even if the earthquake hadn’t happened, we would have moved on soon enough.”
Oliver carried up the boxes to my apartment but he couldn’t stay because he also had plans. He didn’t specify what they were, but I assumed that he was going out on a date—after all, he was a real cutie-patootie. We said goodbye and then I spent quite a while trying to put together my new furniture. It took me long enough that when Carmen Crusoe, my neighbor, came knocking on my door, the table still wasn’t ready.
Luckily, she was happy to sip a beer and show me how to do it right. She knew how to use the tools better than I did and also, she was able to understand the directions. Even though I was on pins and needles about the song, I also enjoyed having her over, something that surprised me. I hadn’t ever expected to have guests here and I certainly hadn’t thought that I would enjoy entertaining people. She liked the appetizers I’d gotten and we had a good time talking. She knew more history of some of the people in the building, like about Mrs. Doyle (in the garden apartment) and Mrs. McGlothen, the building manager.
“They’ve been best friends since grade school,” she said. “When her husband died, Vera Doyle moved into the Milaflores Building so that they could be close together again.” She told me about the woman I’d heard singing opera, the whole story about the alligators in 3C, and a lot of other building lore.
It was fun, up until it was time to go and we had the incident at the sink. “I’ll just rinse off these plates before we leave,” I mentioned casually. I carried them into the kitchen and then called, “Could you bring in the bottles?”
“Sure,” she answered, and followed me. “I love how the kitchens here are mostly original to the building. My fridge is original to the eighties, though, and I wouldn’t mind a new one.” She put the bottles in the sink and as she did, I opened up the tap. I let the water run full-blast and just in case, I turned on the hot, too.
I heard it. I definitely did. I even caught some words for the first time! There was something about “when” and then a refrain that was repeated. I looked eagerly at Carmen to see if she was noticing.
“Have you ever been to the Odeum?” she asked. “It’s one of my favorite venues in Detroit. The acoustics are amazing.”
I waited for a moment before answering. Was she just ignoring it?
She turned to me. “Kat?”
“Oh. No, I haven’t been there.” I turned off the water. “Are you thinking about the acoustics because you have hearing problems?”
“No, my hearing is fine, despite how I treated my ears. So many bands over the years.” She smiled. “My only issue with aging has to do with small print. I hate my readers but I have to wear them if I want to see the little stuff.”
“Oh,” I repeated.
“The Odeum is fun,” she told me. “Last year, I saw the Rigolades there. Do you know them? They’ve been playing a lot of colleges in the Midwest and I think they’ll get huge.”
I looked at the sink. “Maybe we should go to the bathroom before we leave,” I suggested.
She went first, but came back out saying that she liked how my soap smelled and mentioning nothing about unusual music in there. Then I went, too, and I definitely heard it. What was wrong with me?
The Orpheus Odeum was a cool place for a concert, and I wasn’t really into hip hop but I supposed that the act was good. It was better for me to listen to something other than the song that streamed out of my shower, the one that Carmen hadn’t been able to hear.
And on Monday, I would make an appointment with a therapist. I had to figure out why my mind was playing these tricks.
Chapter 4
“Thank you for fitting me in on such short notice.”
“I’m happy that it worked out,” the counselor said. “You noted on your intake forms you have an urgent problem. Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”
She had heard all kinds of stuff from all kinds of people. She didn’t care that my problem would sound ludicrous and that I might have had serious mental issues. Listening was her job.
“There’s a song coming from the pipes in my apartment. When I turn on the water, I hear music,” I stated.
To this woman’s credit, she didn’t bat an eye, at least not that I could spot on my laptop screen. She asked me questions and I could see her taking notes as I answered them.
“Is this the first time that you’ve heard music?” she asked.
“I’ve heard songs before, probably even while I’ve been in places with running water, but not the same song all the time.”
“So, this is something you’ve already experienced,” she clarified.
“I mean, it was just coming from phones or if someone drove by with their windows down and the volume up. This is different. It’s a totally new problem,” I tried to explain.
“Mmhm.” She wrote more. “Have you noticed any other unusual things in the past? Maybe, you might have heard a voice that no one else seemed to notice?”
“No,” I promised.