Page 134 of The Last Session

Rings glitter from Moon’s hands. It’s hard to imagine now how she once caressed me so lovingly, her square, elegant fingers running over my body, waking it up. How she gave me my first orgasm, then many more. How she told me she loved me.

“Here!” She stops abruptly and turns in a slow circle. It doesn’t look different from anywhere else on this trail. “Come on!” She steps off the trail onto the sandy dirt, which makes my stomach drop.

Where are we going? We’ve been walking now for at least an hour. My throat is so dry it feels hard to swallow.

Twenty minutes later, we’re far from the trail. Far from anything. Here you can’t even see the far-off mountains; we must be on higher ground, and the surrounding hills are hiding them.

She unties the bandanna from around her neck. “Squat down, sweetie.”

She ties it around my eyes. It smells like rose-tinged sweat.

“Now stand up.”

I stand. She whirls me around in a circle: once, twice, three times, humming a tune to herself. Then she whispers: “Plug your ears.” As I do so, she pulls me down to the ground. I’m dizzy from the twirling, and I lean my head over my crossed legs. I hear faint crunching sounds, then nothing.

Finally, I unplug my ears. “Moon?” No reply.

My hands hesitate at the bandanna; Moon could be sitting right there, watching me. This could be a test. She conducts a lot of them. Often I fail and am not allowed to eat for several days.

After a few more minutes, I pull the bandanna down. I jump to my feet. “Moon?”

Nothing—no one—in any direction. The sun’s just starting to lower in the sky. So that way is west, right? But what direction did we come from? I have no idea.

She has to be close by. I’ll walk to the top of that hill over there so I can see the trail.

My feet grind over the dry earth. Fuck, I’m thirsty. I also have to pee. I remember a show from years ago where the main guy gets lost in the New Mexican desert and is forced to drink his own urine.

Even as I reach the top of the hill, I can tell it’s not going tohelp. There are just other, larger swelling hills all around. No sign of the trail.

What should I do? I take a few deep breaths. Moon taught me that, early on: the simplest way to regulate your nervous system. I could pick a direction and start walking, but what if it turns out to be the wrong way? What if I walk further into the wilderness? There’s so much of it out here, miles and miles of sandy dirt and scrubby brush. No shade anywhere.

I’ll stay here.

An hour later, feeling fried from the sun, my panic electrifying me, I start to walk.

The sun’s falling lower in the sky. Will I be out here all night? Or… forever? Is this a way for Moon to get rid of me? She’s clearly sick of me. I don’t know why. I gave her all my goddamn money. The Center now exists because of me.

I want to cry but force it down. I need those tears.

I stop walking and sit. I laugh loudly. Am I going to die in the fucking desertagain? Have I been betrayed by the same old people in new bodies?

I lie down and play with a long, thin yellow plant. It looks like a mini stalk of wheat. I wonder distantly if I should try to eat it. That feeling’s coming over me again, where it’s like I’m in 2D. Not really here. I’ve been experiencing it since we started the past life sessions. Sometimes I feel imprisoned between lifetimes, not in this one, but not in the old ones either.

The sun sinks below the horizon. I lie on my back, watching the aquamarine fade into navy. The stars are brighter than I’ve ever seen them before. I think briefly of the dreams I sometimes have of being in space. Dad twisted them for the last scene ofStargirl, but they could’ve been a whole different movie. Some emergency’s happening and I’m racing towards something, through a metal structure, while someone runs beside me.

I push the nightmare away. I’m so, so thirsty. I wonder how long I have left without water.

A low purring sound. I lift my head.

It grows louder—yes, a car. I scramble to my feet. I try to call out, but all that leaves my throat is a wheeze. I throw my hands over my eyes as bright headlights find me.

“There she is!” A far-off voice. I keep my hand pressed over my eyes, my shoulders trembling. Is this real? Is this really happening?

“God, Cath.” Moon sounds annoyed. A door opens and footsteps walk up to me. “You really scared me.” She pulls my arm, and I let my hand fall.

I really scaredher? I barely question these reversals anymore. “I’m sorry.”

Sol’s in the driver’s seat, fiddling with the radio. “Hey, lady.”

---