THE WOMAN WHO COULDN’T FIND HER BABY The Folklore of Windyville

THE WOMAN WHO COULDN’T FIND HER BABY The Folklore of Windyville [INTRO — low drone, piano, wind] Some stories are remembered because they're true. Others are remembered because nobody can prove they aren't. [VERSE 1 — FEMALE LEAD] I stopped in Windyville Just before the rain An old man at the counter Said, “Don't take that bridge again.” I asked him why. He watched the darkness gather. He said, “Windyville by daylight,” “Spookyville after.” They say a woman walks that road When the moon is hanging low. She crosses that old bridge Looking for a child she lost long ago. Nobody knows her name. Nobody knows the year. But everybody knows the story. And everybody's heard her here. [PRE-CHORUS — BUILDING] They say she calls beneath the bridge Where the black creek disappears. And if the wind is moving right— [DISTANT NONVERBAL WOMAN CRY] Where is my baby? [CHORUS — FEMALE LEAD, ANGUISHED] Where is my baby? Where did he go? I heard him crying Down by the water below. I crossed that bridge. I searched every stone. I called his name Till I couldn't hear my own. Where is my baby? Somebody tell me why— She keeps searching Windyville Under every moonlit sky. [DISTANT NONVERBAL CHILD LAUGHTER] [VERSE 2 — DARKER] I went down to the bridge Though the old man said don't go. The creek was running underneath me Cold and black below. No footprints in the mud. No movement in the trees. Just an empty stretch of road And the sound of something breathing. Then I heard a woman crying. Not loud. Not near. Just far enough away To make me disappear. I followed through the timber Till the crying stopped. And somewhere in the darkness— [DISTANT NONVERBAL BABY LAUGHTER] I heard a baby laugh. One laugh became two. Then three. Then more. Like children playing On the other side of the woods. I turned around. Nothing. Only the bridge. Only the rain. And the woman standing underneath it— Calling again. [CHORUS — FEMALE LEAD, MORE DESPERATE] Where is my baby? Where did he go? I heard him crying Down by the water below. I crossed that bridge. I searched every stone. I called his name Till I couldn't hear my own. Where is my baby? Somebody tell me why— She keeps searching Windyville Under every moonlit sky. [CHILDREN LAUGH — DISTANT, CUT OFF] [VERSE 3 — INTIMATE] They say there were children Who died there long ago. They say the cemetery whispers When the evening shadows grow. They say you hear them laughing When there's nobody around. They say a rider watches From the hill above the town. But nobody can tell you Which part of it is true. Nobody knows the woman. Nobody knows the child. And nobody remembers Ever seeing either one. But every generation Has somebody swear they saw her. Standing on that bridge. Waiting. Listening. Calling. [DISTANT CHILD LAUGH] [BRIDGE — FEMALE LEAD, NEARLY SPOKEN] Was there ever a baby? Was there ever a cry? Was there ever a woman Who walked beneath that sky? Did the creek take something? Did somebody take him? Or was the thing she lost Something no one else could name? Maybe she found him. Maybe she never did. Maybe she was searching For the last piece of herself. Maybe the story changed Every time somebody told it. Maybe that's how legends live. [MUSIC BUILDS] But if you hear her calling— Don't answer. If you see her standing— Don't stare. And if she asks you If you've seen her baby— Don't tell her where. [FINAL CHORUS — MAXIMUM ANGUISH] WHERE IS MY BABY? WHERE DID HE GO? I HEARD HIM CRYING DOWN BY THE WATER BELOW! I CROSSED THAT BRIDGE! I SEARCHED EVERY STONE! I CALLED HIS NAME TILL I COULDN'T HEAR MY OWN! WHERE IS MY BABY? SOMEBODY TELL ME WHY! She keeps searching Windyville Under every moonlit sky. Where is my baby? Where did he go? I heard him crying— But I don't know. [DISTANT CHILDREN LAUGHING — THEN SILENCE] [BREAKDOWN — LOW FEMALE VOCAL] Windyville… Windyville… Spookyville… Don't cross that bridge. Don't cross that bridge. [DISTANT NONVERBAL WOMAN CRY] [SINGLE BABY LAUGH] [OUTRO — SPARSE PIANO, WIND] I asked the old man Before I left that night: “Did anybody ever find her?” He didn't answer. He just looked toward the bridge. Then he said: “Miss…” “Some people spend their whole lives looking for something they lost.” “And some things…” “Spend their whole lives looking for them.” [SILENCE] [ONE DISTANT CHILD LAUGH] A child's laughter. One time. Then nothing. [FINAL LINE — FEMALE LEAD, ALMOST SPOKEN] Some stories are remembered because they're true. Others are remembered because nobody can prove they aren't. [WIND RISES] [FAINT CHILDREN LAUGHING — VERY DISTANT] [END]