Only the Pretty Lies by Crane Rebekah

Author:Crane, Rebekah
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Skyscape
Published: 2021-04-30T16:00:00+00:00

18

BACKMASKING

I remember the first time I heard the words “I buried Paul” at the end of the Beatles’ “Strawberry Fields Forever.” It’s harder to hear on my grandmother’s old vinyl than on the newer digital remasters of Magical Mystery Tour. You have to listen really closely, past the crackles and white noise. But after I heard it once, I could never listen to the song again without hearing it. It was like this thing that barely existed, a whisper you aren’t sure you even heard, all of a sudden becomes a shout.

Right at the end of “Strawberry Fields Forever,” when the music gets all psychedelic, with flutes and brass and drums, like the instruments are trying to distract you from what’s really going on, a person speaks: I buried Paul. Your ear has to reach for it or you’ll follow the twittering flute instead of the words.

But once you hear it, it’s like being invited in on a secret.

After that, I was so intrigued, I got online and researched all the other messages I’d missed. “Strawberry Fields Forever” wasn’t alone. The Beatles loved secret messages. They riddled their albums with them.

It was during my research that I first heard the term “backmasking,” where a message is recorded in reverse, and the only way to hear it is if you play the vinyl backward. At the end of “I’m So Tired,” it sounds like John Lennon is speaking gibberish, but played in reverse, the gibberish becomes words. Unless you know about backmasking, you’ll always just hear gibberish.

For nearly eighteen years, I had been playing the record how it was meant to be played. The way my mom taught me, and her mom taught her. I’d forgotten a record could spin in a different direction, revealing a whole new message.

I go to school early to meet with Lori, having emailed her the night before, asking for an impromptu meeting but not divulging what about. She didn’t ask. She simply said to come to her office.

I don’t expect to see anyone, so when Ellis appears in the hallway as I’m walking to the guidance office, I’m startled. I hadn’t noticed her black Jeep parked outside, but I have a lot on my mind this morning.

“What are you doing here?” she asks.

“What are you doing here?” I counter.

“Senior Senate meeting. We’re voting on prom locations.” Ellis states it so plainly that I feel foolish for avoiding her question. But I haven’t had any communication with her since she called me an attention hog and stormed out of my room to go hook up with Beckett, and I don’t particularly want to talk to her now. I have heavier things on my mind.

“Don’t be late on account of me.” I continue down the hall.

But Ellis hollers after me and runs to catch up, so I have no choice but to stop.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I was a bitch on Thanksgiving. It’s just . . . you know how I get on holidays. Empty Chair Syndrome rears its ugly head.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.