‘Hush little baby, don’t say a word
Mama’s gonna buy you a mocking bird’
As a child, my mama would sing to me, to soothe me into sleep. Her voice was as sweet as any bird, mocking or otherwise, and it was the only way I could find peace enough to rest. My mama was a strong woman, independent and feisty. She taught me how to not only survive but thrive here in Arcadia. She seemed to have this endless vat of knowledge, and an infinite well of energy. A real firecracker.
‘And if that mockingbird won’t sing,
Mama’s gonna buy you a diamond ring’
The diamond ring she gave me was not jewellery, but more like a life ring, ensuring I kept afloat, making sure I didn’t drown. I’ve never felt like drowning before, because her diamond life ring lifted me up. Even after she was gone, that inspiration was there for all to see. Each time I stepped on a new level in Arcadia, or took on new people and creatures. Each time I felt at my lowest, it brought her to me, in spirit.
‘And if that diamond ring turns brass,
Mama’s gonna buy you a looking glass’
But the ring did turn to brass. For the first time in my life, I felt that feeling of going under. I was no longer buoyed by the diamond life ring she’d thrown to me in my youth. When I was at my lowest, she no longer came to me in spirit. I died.
And then I didn’t. And then I died again.
But she wasn’t there to save me any more. And so I discarded the brass ring and took up the looking glass and began to look into it closely. But there was nothing to find. I’m a detective who couldn’t crack the case.
All I know now, is that my mama no longer sings me to sleep because the words no longer soothe me. The words only ire me. I listen to the words and wonder why I’m still awake. I count endless sheep in the hope of slumber.
El Mariachi Muerte likes to sing too. He’s sang to many people and those people have found their peace eternal. His voice and his guitar are Arcadia’s mama, lulling them into a slumber, only it’s a slumber they never wake from.
Well, amigo, sing me to sleep. If you can.
My sleeping ended a while ago. Your ditties will just drive me crazier. Your melodies will just make me mad.
And while I can’t find the peace my mama gave me, or the peace you want to give to me, I can find solace in just one thing.
I’ll put you in your eternal bed just like I did Teddy O’Toole. Because the only thing that soothes me now, is giving other people the one thing I can’t have.
Death.
And you’ll beg for mercy. Oh Death, won’t you spare me over till another year?
But Death won’t listen. He’ll take you in my place. And Tombstone will ferry you to your final resting place.