The Brandywine Prophet

11.3 The Chorus Room

The gate was open so Hyde drove through and parked in the VIP lot behind the stage. It was five minutes after twelve when he stepped out of the car into the puddle of his own shadow and heard the collective laughter of another Brandywine summer. 

He hoisted himself up the loading dock. The metal theater door was propped open with the rock that Kayla gave the Carmels more than two years ago.

Hyde stepped inside. Will’s grand piano sat on the ground and the momentary pressure change fluttered the staff paper that covered the instrument’s lid. The pages were blotted with sloppy ovals like squashed ants, and angry black scribbles tore thin gashes through the sheets.

Hyde...

The deep reverberating whisper fell from the rafters and--in a split second of drug-induced paranoia--Hyde actually thought it was the voice of God.

“Hyde Whitaker! You have sinned against me!”

“Will? Where you at, bro?” He meandered across the stage with his hands in his pockets. “I’m running late, bud. What can I help you with?”

“Why did you do it, Hyde?”

“Uh... what?” There weren’t many places to hide on the spotless stage. He walked to the front of the left wing and peeked behind the first drape. Nothing.

“Colder...” said the voice.

“I can’t play games today. If you don’t come out, I’ll have to help you another time.”

“Why did you do it, Hyde? William was your friend!”

He looked to the large black speaker above his head. The power indicator was off... it wasn’t the source of the amplified voice. 

Paranoia escalated. Hyde felt naked... observed. His brain didn’t have the clarity to solve this puzzle.

“Why did you lie to your friend, Hyde?”

“About what? What did I lie about?” He hopped to another black drape at the rear of the stage and jerked it aside. Nothing.

“Waaaarmer.”

“Forget it. I’ll talk to you later, Will.” He marched toward the back door.

“Will? I am not Will! I am Alpha and the Omega and you are standing in my home!”

“You’re William Carmel and I’m leaving.” Hyde stepped on a crumpled piece of staff paper, twisted the ball under his foot, and grabbed the door handle.

“How did you do it, Hyde? How did you watch your friend go mad? How could you prolong his embarrassment with your silence?”

It took a moment for the accusation to register, and when it did, his hand dropped from the door handle and his legs felt the sudden compulsion to sit. Will wasn’t suppose to know... 

How long did he know?

Kayla. Kayla told him everything! She told him that her husband was divorcing her and she told him about the prank! What a sick form of revenge!

“Why did you do it, Hyde?”

He turned from the exit and looked to the catwalk. “It shouldn’t have gotten this far, Will. I’m sorry for that and I take full responsibility.”

“Full responsibility? Are you sure you can shoulder that, Hyde?”

Thanks to the turbid haze of the cannabis, Hyde’s thoughts swam in an ocean of molasses. “I won’t have this conversation here. Tell me where you are!”