Goose bumps sprouted on the back of my neck. This was my favorite part of the show.
As one, as if I’d summoned the dead—and hadn’t I, in a way?—hundreds rose from their seats. The audience exploded with joy when they recognized the number of Lazaruses among them. This was why I suffered the nomadic lifestyle of the performer: gas station hot dogs and untoward motel owners and inevitable relationship fizzles. Yes, it was fun to play God, to see how far I could push an individual, but the real reason I kept showing up night after night was to help, to teach people how to lessen their pain, so they might put on a tougher face when next they had to brave the world. I have been where you are, I wanted to shout. If you can be a little stronger for a little while longer . . .
The cameraperson turned his lens from the stage to the throng of dazzled faces. It wouldn’t be long before I was commanding the stage at Madison Square Garden. No, what was I thinking? MSG was much too small, with its measly capacity of twenty thousand. The football stadium at the University of Michigan seated 107,000. That was more like it. I beamed.
The projection screen overhead displayed the crowd’s delight up close before fading to black. I bowed deeply at center stage. “Thank you.”
On the dark screen flashed a single word in bold white letters.
FEARLESS
The crowd roared. The curtain fell.
I am goddamn invincible.
16
Kit
JULY 2019
GEORGINA GRIMACED AT the bowl of puffed rice in front of her. She glanced up at me. “Nervous?”
After breakfast was my first one-on-one with Rebecca. “Mostly excited.”
“You should be,” April said. “She’s wonderful.” She had had her first session yesterday and hadn’t stopped raving about Rebecca since.
I fiddled with my bowl. “What should I talk to her about?”
“Your mom?” Georgina said.
What would I say? That I’d lost my only parent and best friend in one day? That the guilt of not being there when she passed was eating me alive? That seemed intense for a first meeting. Then again, I was tired of putting on a happy face. I’d always had to be the fun one. Even when I was miserable, I’d sing or invent silly dances to cheer up my mom and sister. I fulfilled my role as the family clown, keeping up the charade until Mom was dead and I was exhausted, no magic tricks left up my sleeve. These days I wanted to cry in peace—violently, unapologetically. I was sick to death of silver linings.
“You think?” I said.
April took a bite of cereal, mulling it over. “She’s the issue you’re struggling with most. Right?”
I nodded. I had told no one here about Mom besides April and Georgina. Even with them, I shared only an overview, none of the details that made her sparkle. I hadn’t told them about her ice-cream challenges. We’d chase the ice-cream truck down the block, scarf our cones, and whoever got brain freeze first won. I hadn’t told them that while other kids got quarters from the tooth fairy, I’d gotten a stuffed elephant toy, like the one Nat had. I hadn’t told them about Puzzle Tuesdays. No matter how low she was feeling, Mom never missed a Puzzle Tuesday. We’d invite Nat to help, but she always refused. She didn’t understand how I could want nothing more from Mom than to sit by her side.
“Maybe I’ll stick to career stuff,” I said.
April nodded. “Yesterday Rebecca helped me understand I’ve only stuck with this job because I’m afraid of who I am without it, without all the money. Makes me wonder what I’d do with my life if I wasn’t so afraid of everyone else’s opinions.” I thought of the accountant who was going to become a chef in France.
“This is step one of five of April moving into a yurt,” Georgina said. I laughed. April swatted at her.
A tall woman with a shaved head rose from her stool in the corner. “No touching.”
April waved an apology. The rules here would take some getting used to.
Georgina gestured for us to lean in. “How long do you think it’s been since Raeanne got laid?”
I choked on the sip of water I’d taken.
“Vulturine” was the best way to describe Raeanne—fifties, beaky nose, permanent frown, perpetually on the hunt for mistakes. Her complexion was golden, but not with a healthful glow; rather, she appeared shriveled, like she’d been tanning on the surface of the sun. I found her more than a little terrifying.
April stifled a giggle. “She’s just doing her job.”
“I bet she’s got mothballs down there,” Georgina said.