The Listeners

by Jordan Tannahill

  Seema sat forward on the couch to mirror Tom’s stance, and said, Can I point out that Claire just told you that you silenced her, and yet you have continued to dominate the conversation? We have heard what you have to say.

  Frankly, I don’t think you have.

  Tom, please, Emily said, closing her eyes.

  I’m encouraging both of you, Seema said, glancing at Howard, to be mindful of who is taking up space in this room.

  And who is being listened to, Nora added, widening her already wide eyes.

  The presence of the two women of colour in the room suddenly felt super-charged.

  Tom turned to me, and apologized, about as sincerely as I reckoned he could manage. I nodded, accepting it, though feeling desperate to disgorge the anger that had gathered in me. I gave an Oscar-worthy exhale, which helped a little.

  Claire, Jo said, it goes without saying that we’re here for you. And we will be one hundred percent discreet.

  Several of the others nodded, and I thanked them.

  I think we should all agree now, Jo continued, that nothing that is said in this room is to be repeated to anyone else outside of this room.

  Well how is that actually practical? Tom asked, massaging the bridge of his nose. If we’re going to discuss strategies for tracking down and dealing with this hum we’re going to have to interact with the outside world, he said. Jo made to respond, but Tom turned to me and said, I’m not talking about your personal dilemma, but I don’t think an information blackout policy is the right—

  I think there can be some nuance, Jo interrupted.

  Well that’s not what you just said.

  Nothing personal, no personal details should be shared, she clarified. That has to be a baseline.

  But there again, what exactly does that mean? he asked. Medical details? The impact on our lives? Those things are going to be important to share with the city if we’re going to get them to investigate, or the companies who might be responsible for this.

  Seema admitted that she had to agree with Tom on this one.

  I think it’s common sense, Leslie said, what is and what is not permissible to be shared.

  Is it? Tom asked.

  Seema shook her head. Yeah, I don’t—

  In my experience there is no such thing as common sense, Howard said.

  And sorry, Tom said, turning back to me. But if you are not allowed to be seeing this—he suddenly turned to Kyle—sorry I forgot your name.

  Kyle.

  —Kyle out of school, then there are legal implications to us tacitly condoning it.

  My stomach double knotted. There is nothing illegal about either of us being here, I said.

  Tom pointed at me. You just said yourself that if your—

  Are you not comfortable with it, Tom? Jo asked.

  I don’t know.

  Well what are you saying? she pressed.

  I don’t know the dynamic. I don’t know any of the details.

  Howard suggested that maybe we should move on.

  I suppose no, I don’t, I don’t feel comfortable, Tom said, crossing his arms. If you’ve been let go from your job and told not to associate with this student any further, and we are sitting here with the two of you, that feels wrong to me, no?

  All we had is each other to talk to, Kyle snapped. Do you get that? And now we have you guys. Don’t push us away.

  Kyle’s eyes were bright and fixed on Tom. He seemed transformed, no longer a child in a room of adults to be protected, but a man squaring off against another man, and for a moment I had the impression that Kyle was actually being protective of me.

  Does anyone else have a problem with it? Jo asked, trying to keep control of the room. I turned to Nora and asked her not to tell Julian about Kyle and me being there.

  I’m sorry but I don’t lie to my son, she replied, stoically. I never have.

  I’m not asking you to lie. I’m just asking for your discretion.

  Please, Kyle said. It could cause a lot of problems for us.

  Tom huffed—Like what, are we talking criminal charges here?

  Who’s Julian? Seema asked.

  Mrs. Delgado, I’m begging you, Kyle said. Nora looked pained with indecision.

  If this is going to work, we need to support each other, Jo said.

  Okay, Nora replied, with reluctance. Okay.

  Seema pointed to Nora, Kyle, and me—So you three know each other already?

  I play ball with Julian, Kyle clarified. I talked with him about The Hum once, and he told me about his mother, he said, nodding to Nora.

  And I work for Howard, Nora said, which surprised a few people, including me.

  She’s transcribing years’ worth of old audio recordings from my research, Howard said, looking over at her with a somewhat apologetic smile. It’s hundreds of hours.

  I’ve started hearing his voice in my sleep now, Nora said wearily, to which we laughed.

  So wait, all of you—? Seema turned to Leslie—And you already knew Howard and Jo?

  Jo’s my yoga teacher, Leslie confirmed.

  Huh. Seema nodded, furrowing her brow as she traced the lines of connection in her mind.

  Jo said she taught clients out of her home studio, in the basement; usually in one-to-one sessions, tailored for each client’s specific needs and capacities. She was also trained in body and energy work. She said she tried to offer clients holistic, multi-pronged approaches to their physical, mental, and spiritual well-being.

  I’ve been doing yoga for a couple of years, Emily said. It helps my arthritis.

  Or causes it, Tom added, chuckling. If you’re making yourself into a human pretzel.

  Leslie told Emily that she should really consider doing sessions with Jo. She’s amazing, so patient, really lets me go at my own pace.

  Maybe I should. Emily looked at Jo. Are you expensive?

  Yes, replied Leslie, which got a few laughs. But the core strength is worth it. You should show them your peacock, she said to Jo.

  Jo laughed, and waved Leslie off—Not right now.

  Tom leaned in—Her what?

  Why not? Seema asked.

  Yes! Leslie cajoled. The rest of the circle joined in, encouraging Jo, and telling her how much they wanted to see ‘her peacock,’ which I gathered was a yoga pose.

  Are you serious? Jo asked.

  It’s incredibly impressive, Howard said.

  C’mon! Leslie pushed.

  Jo raised her arms in surrender. She cleared the water pitcher and glasses off the coffee table, placed both of her palms down in the middle, and proceeded to balance the rest of her body in a perfect plank. The group cheered and laughed. It was a truly impressive sight, though I was a little worried about the coffee table flipping or giving way. It must have been well-built. I don’t think mine would have held up quite so well. The thought of me planking on my own coffee table caused me to snort a laugh, which I turned into a cheer, as I clapped encouragingly for Jo. She was really holding the pose.

  Incredible, Emily said, shaking her head.

  Wouldn’t want to mess with her, right? Leslie said.

  Jo then evolved the pose into an even more precarious and impressive hold, bringing both of her legs forward and out beyond her, such that her bum was now resting on the backs of her arms. This really sent the group into spasms of delight. People were whooping and clapping, even Tom. Half of the circle was standing. Damian sat back in his chair, hands in his pockets, but smiling. Jo then dismounted from the table and did a little bow. The whole episode was a glorious and slightly surreal release of tension. I can’t quite explain how, but it felt like we were collectively forgiving Tom for his antagonism earlier, and his eager laugh seemed to suggest he picked up on this. I then wondered for a moment whether Jo, while seeming reluctant to do so, had actually somehow engineered the moment with exactly that emotional reset in mind. The more I thought about it, the more it seemed likely that she was operating on an intuitive plane beyond any I could aspire to.


  Leslie slid her arm over Jo’s shoulder—When the time comes for you to have babies, you’re just going to bang, bang, bang, she said, pumping her fist low down.

  Oh god, Jo blanched, still laughing.

  That’s what destroyed my abs, Leslie continued. My Caesarean.

  Jo patted Leslie’s abs—Well we’re getting there.

  She then sat back down in her chair, and those of us standing returned to our chairs too.

  Les and I were meditating in a session a couple of weeks ago, Jo said, and I could tell she was struggling. She couldn’t focus. I remember your body was just—vibrating, with anxiety. I asked you about it, and it came out that you could hear The Hum too.

  Then I-I just started crying, Leslie said. You must have thought, who is this crazy woman? I was so relieved.

  And then a couple of days later we learned that Nora could hear it too, Jo said.

  Everyone looked at Nora, who nodded slowly, and fiddled with the small gold crucifix at the end of her necklace.

  At first I thought it was because I was listening to so much of the recordings, she said. I thought it was like a—like hearing damage.

  That’s so weird—Seema said, narrowing her eyes and shaking her head—that all three of you, like, I mean it’s almost like a virus catching or something.

  That’s when we figured, okay we need to hold a meeting, Howard said. We realized there were obviously others around, nearby.

  There’s probably loads more, Seema said.

  Damian nodded—Hundreds. Maybe thousands.

  Probably a lot of people just suffering on their own, Jo said.

  But why now? I asked. Why here?

  Howard leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and his hands clasped together. From my experience, he said, there seem to be certain places in the world where, for whatever reason, small clusters of people can suddenly hear the Resonance more strongly.

  Tom resumed massaging the bridge of his nose, and Seema rolled her head back, both of them evidently irritated at Howard rehashing his theory.

  Over the years you just hear about these people, Howard continued, ignoring their restlessness. A couple dozen in Sausalito. A bunch of folks, all from the same neighbourhood in Windsor, Canada. And in some cases there’s an obvious, you know, source that’s eventually discovered like a nearby factory or—

  Exactly—Tom said, gesturing towards Howard—that’s why we—

  But, Howard ploughed on, holding his hand out, there are tons of these cases around the world where people complain, authorities investigate, and there’s absolutely no explanation. And that’s because they’re not thinking about the bigger picture. They’re focusing on wind turbines and factories. They have no conception of geophysics.

  But why do you think we can feel it more strongly here? I asked. And all of a sudden?

  Howard talked persuasively, with calm assuredness, but I just didn’t understand why now, why us?

  Well it’s not exactly all of a sudden, he said.

  Because two months ago they opened the new highway extension, Tom said, with a little flourish of his hands as if he had just performed a magic trick. Emily clicked her tongue in admonishment, but Seema laughed, and pointed at Tom.

  Okay, I’ll give you that, Seema said.

  Am I right? Tom asked.

  Seema nodded—There’s no question it’s the highway.

  Thank you.

  Nora looked confused—The highway?

  They opened the new extension in the spring and there’s been a low roar ever since, Emily explained. Just half a mile from here. No sound barricades or anything.

  And I reckon it’s been driving coyotes into the neighbourhood too, have you noticed? Tom asked. Way more walking around the roads these days.

  C’mon, there’s been more coyotes for years, Leslie said. Ever since they started building all those new subdivisions out by Solar Valley.

  Well there’s been even more recently, trust me, Tom replied. Even our dog is suffering. Two months ago he started acting up. Eventually we had to put him on Prozac. Kyle chuckled, and Tom’s face hardened—Why is that funny?

  It’s actually very bad, Emily said. Kyle covered his mouth and coughed, as if to suggest that was what he’d been doing all along.

  It’s not funny, Tom said.

  He’s always been a bit of a highly strung dog, but recently it’s become too much, Emily said. And he’s probably been picking up on our stress too.

  What I’m saying is, as much as I appreciate your, you know, your theory, Howard—Tom said, rolling his hand in the air—I think it’s time for us all to get real here.

  Is science not real enough for you, Tom? Jo asked, a subtle new edge in her voice.

  Lightning humming in the atmosphere? No, it’s not real enough for me and I’ll tell you why.

  This is an objective, verifiable natural phenomenon, Jo said.

  Yeah but a highway’s also pretty objective and verifiable, Seema countered.

  If this was a natural phenomenon, we would have all heard it ages before now, Tom said, and Seema gestured towards him in agreement. It would be something widely reported, he added.

  I’ve heard The Hum my entire adult life, Howard said. And it is, actually, widely reported.

  The group sort of did a collective double take at this. These statements felt like flares lobbed into the room.

  Sorry, you’ve heard it all your life? Seema asked, incredulous.

  Since I was a grad student.

  Then it’s not the same thing, Tom said, shaking his head. You have some kinda condition.

  So you’ve had to deal with this for thirty-odd years? I asked.

  For me it’s not something to ‘deal’ with, Howard replied. It’s a gift.

  This also sent a small shockwave through the circle.

  Gift, Nora said.

  I feel privileged to hear it, he said.

  Tom rolled his eyes—Oh give me strength.

  Howard explained that, of course, he didn’t realize what it was at first. He had just begun his grad studies on atmospheric noise and was in his bed one night when he began to hear The Hum.

  Not that I made the connection, he said. I went to the doctors and they told me I had tinnitus but I didn’t buy it. The symptoms didn’t match. But eventually I figured it out, I realized, My god I can actually hear the Resonance. I’m sure it was there all along, very faint in the background, but now I was finally noticing it, and once I noticed it I couldn’t un-notice it. I told my colleagues and they thought I was crazy. They thought I was just falling too deep into the research and losing my head. But I never stopped hearing it. And I’ve spent my entire career researching it. My wife, my kids, they never heard it. And then I met Jo who—

  You’re saying you’ve heard it for years, Tom interrupted, when all the rest of us have suddenly begun hearing it two months ago.

  Tom, would you like me to tell you about how variations in global temperature or water vapour in the upper troposphere affect how and where the Resonance is heard? I’ve spent three decades studying the Resonance and you won’t let me speak for three goddamn minutes about it without interrupting me.

  It’s a basic question of logic, Howard.

  I know you’re both very keen to get started on that letter to our city councillor, so don’t let me hold you back, Howard said, gesturing to Tom and Seema. But I can tell you this is a lot more complex and, frankly, sublime than a highway extension.

  Kyle suddenly cleared his throat, and we all turned to look at him. For what it’s worth, Claire and I also think it’s something in the area, he said, looking over at me. Don’t we?

  Um, well … I replied, faltering. That was our first impulse.

  That’s still my impulse, Kyle said, holding my gaze.

  I nodded, as if to suggest that it was still mine too, but I turned to Howard and told him that I was also very interested in what he’d been saying.

  We’ve actually spent a lot of time lookin
g for it, Kyle added.

  But we haven’t had much luck, have we? I said.

  It’s a work-in-progress.

  I told the group about the various sites we had visited, about the measurements we had taken, and then, removing it from my purse, I showed them the map we’d been making, charting the coordinates of each possible sound source, in the hope that some trend or hot spot might emerge. Everyone seemed amazed. Tom even clapped, in an awkward, lone echo of our collective fun moments earlier.

  Now this is what I’m talking about, he exclaimed. This is what we need the city to be doing with a proper team. No offence, Tom said, gesturing to me, but a proper, systematic survey of the area.

  And what has your survey turned up? Howard asked me.

  Well, we uh—haven’t found a match.

  Yet, Kyle added.

  It’s really impressive, Seema said. She asked to see it, and I passed her the map.

  Nothing’s been low enough, I said. Everything is fifty, sixty, seventy hertz. Nothing sounds like our hum.

  Tom asked Seema to see the map, but she said that she wasn’t finished with it yet, so he rose and perched on the armrest beside her.

  The thing I agree with, with what you’re saying, Kyle said—turning to Howard—is that whatever this is, is like, super low. Like, barely something this thing—he held up his phone—can pick up.

  That’s why the city should be doing this properly, Tom said, looking up from the map. He asked us if we had measured the sound coming from the highway.

  Kyle looked at me and then back to Tom. No, we, uh we didn’t think of it, he said.

  Tom pointed at the map—That’s why we need experts.

  I thought you weren’t interested in listening to experts, Jo replied, coolly. Howard gestured to her to drop it.

  I really thought we would find it, I said. Some evenings it felt like we were so close. Like we might turn a corner and there it would be. I told the others that I kept imagining it might even be this very small thing I would find, like in the back of a neighbour’s shed or something, that I could pick up and smash to pieces.