Sing Me To Sleep Part 2

And long for the other side.

My voice flows pure and strong through the andante opening solo verse. I get a chorus all to myself, slow and mournful-lots of great runs.

Take me home, sweet, sweet Jesus.

And wrap me in your bosom,

Where my master cannot find me.

Lord, I long for the other side.

Then the choir comes in singing, Take me home, take me home, take me home. My voice soars high above them.

Verse two. No solo in this section. I open my eyes and sing with the altos.

I lay me down by the river,

The sweet, sweet river Jordan,

My fingers touch the muddy water.

There's rich gra.s.s on the other side.

The tempo ramps up on the chorus. Things start to get wild. We're all singing full power, top of our voices, shaking the windowpanes.

Oh, the glory of that bright day

When I cross the river Jordan.

The angels playing banjo

And the good Lord on the fiddle.

Terri's smiling all over herself-having the time of her life. She's jumping up and down, getting everybody into it. Oh, c.r.a.p, it's me again. High and fluid over the harmonic jumble of the rest of the choir.

There's me pappy and me mammy-

Singing like they've never sung before-

I keep my eyes open this time. The choir sings back to me. I let loose, throw in another run at the end of the line.

The dark boy who said he loved me

And fills my dreams at night.

The place is rocking, building to the climax. All of us, full-throated, sing, Take me home, take me home, take me home, like we never have before. Electric sound magic. Music flying everywhere. The key changes, and we're into the bridge.

But my babe, Lord, my sweet child, who wears my master's eyes,

Wraps his sweet, sweet fingers so tight around my heart-

Each section wanders down its own tangled pathway until we wind back together into a perfect sustained chord: HE AIN'T READY FOR JORDAN!

We're one with that tragic girl so far away in time and place. A bunch of white girls finding their souls.

Terri hushes us into reverence for the next line. A mother breathes because she must.

Like my mom who kept going when my dad bolted. For me. She kept breathing, kept working-too wounded to ever love again. And I stare at her with his eyes, his height, his face, his zits. Every day, I'm there to remind her. The Beast incarnate.

The girls around me chant, Pulls me back, pulls me back, pulls me back.

My voice finds its way out of the harmony. Alone. One small slave girl looking for salvation.

I bid farewell to the river,

The sweet, sweet river Jordan,

Turn my back on the muddy water,

Close my eyes to that other side.

I don't know how I keep singing the final chorus. I'm so full of her agony. My voice breaks when I sing, Where my master cannot find me. I get control, and the choir joins me in a harmonious, heart-throbbing, Lord, I long for the other side.

I'm weeping on that last note. So is Terri. So are Sarah and the girl in front of me. All the girls are wiping their eyes. The final piano chord dies away. Terri drops her hands.

Pandemonium.

Everybody crowds around me. Hugging me. Pulling on my arms. Patting my back. They're all cheering. For me. Ma.s.sively unprecedented emotion surges heat into my face.

Terri plows through the choir and hurls her tiny self at my giant frame. "Why didn't you tell me you can sing like that?"

I sniff and wipe my eyes. "I'm an alto."

That's when I see her. Meadow. Standing in the doorway. Her face matches the pale-green walls behind her in the hall. "What's going on?"

chapter 3.

TAKE TWO.

What Terri says next bounces in my brain but doesn't get through to me.

She clears her throat and says it again, "Meadow, I'm giving Beth the solo in *Take Me Home.'"

Me? The soloist? For real? My legs go jelly. I sink onto the pew behind me.