The Voice in My Head

by Dana L. Davis

  Drew kneels and Violet carefully climbs up onto his back. “Grab her water, Indigo.”

  I rush forward to take her hydration pack but Clint snatches it before I can.

  “Why don’t we pretend this hydration pack is in peril? I got it.” Clint winks as he moves down a narrow path that leads to the passageway through the dunes.

  Drew follows with Violet on his back. I’m last so my eyes can stay focused on my sister. I listen carefully to her cough and watch the rise and fall of her back as she breathes.

  Almost there, Violet. Hold on for just a little while longer. Almost there.

  * * *

  It’s quiet. Magically so. I could drink in the sound of the silence. Every once in a while, Violet lifts her head to catch a few flurries of snow on her tongue. It makes me smile.

  Click-click.

  I guess there are some sounds: Violet’s coughing, Drew’s heavy breathing and our hiking boots sloshing in the small pools of water between the dunes. Up ahead, through an opening, I can see the terrain is about to change again—it’s sand.

  “Sand?” I say more to myself than anybody.

  “They don’t call it a desert for nothing,” Clint replies.

  When we push through the opening, the sand is not a welcome addition to the hike. It makes each step that much more difficult. Poor Drew. It’s tough to watch his labored stride with Violet on his back.

  “It’s the final push.” Clint’s trying to be optimistic though he can probably tell both Drew and I are struggling. “Bit of an incline, though. We should rest.”

  Clint doesn’t need to say that twice. Drew nods in agreement and slowly kneels. Violet slides off his back and the two sit in the sand. Drew guzzles water so fast I wonder if he’s gonna blow through his three liters before we even make it to the Wave.

  “Here.” Clint sets Violet’s hydration pack beside her. “You drink, too.”

  She sips water.

  Clint makes his way toward me. “Holdin’ up okay?”

  “I’m good. Thanks, Clint.”

  “Mind if I ask where you guys are from?”

  I’m watching Violet intently. Searching for any of the signs I saw at the race. I think the hypoxia started with her being angry and uncharacteristically...mean, followed by confusion and slurred speech.

  “Violet?” I call out. “How you holdin’ up?”

  “I’m fine.” She continues to sip water in between her deep, guttural coughing.

  Okay. Good. No slurred speech. “Uh, we’re from Seattle.”

  “Nice,” Clint replies. “I’m transferring to the University of British Columbia in the fall.”

  I turn to him. With the snow falling and the vast expanse of nothing stretching out to the horizon, his blue-gray eyes seem like an extension of the sky. “Vancouver? Why so far from home?”

  “Majoring in agricultural science, and it’s one of the best global universities for that. Plus, Canada is beautiful. I live for the outdoors. I think I’ll be very happy there. At least until I graduate and work takes me across the globe. What college do you plan to go to?” Clint asks. “Or are you already in college?”

  “I’m a senior in high school. Violet and I applied to a few. But I think I like the idea of staying close to home. For just a little while longer, anyway. So probably the University of Washington. If I get in, I mean. I don’t see why I wouldn’t.”

  Clint holds up his hand. “High five.”

  “Um, okay.” We high-five. “Why are we high-fiving?”

  “Because we’ll be close. We can visit each other.”

  Heat rushes to my cheeks, warming me from the inside. “I, uh, think I’m gonna go check on my sister.” I rush to Violet and kneel beside her. “Almost there,” I say. “So cool, huh? We’re doing this. We’re making it.”

  “I think...” She pauses to take a deep breath and whispers, “Clint likes you.”

  “What?” I look up at Clint. He’s checking some sort of device he’s been holding in his hands the whole hike. A GPS maybe? “No. He’s the ranger. He’s being nice. That’s what rangers do.”

  Drew leans forward and whispers, “Trust me. I’m not a ranger but I am a guy. I see the signs. He likes you.”

  I bite my bottom lip, still swollen from my fall. “Whatever. I’m not here for a date. I’m here for a miracle.” I pop a squat beside Violet as her coughing starts up again.

  She reaches to rub her chest. “I feel...like I’m suffocating in all these clothes. Can I take off my coat at least?”

  “It’s cold, Violet,” Drew says seriously. “I don’t want you to catch a chill. Michelle would kill me if you got sick.”

  Violet unzips her coat. “Just...for a second.” She reaches under her layers and rubs her chest. Her breathing seems more of a struggle as each second passes.

  “Violet? You should probably take slow breaths. Not so fast.”

  “Let’s just go. Geez.”

  She sounds a bit agitated. Shit. Agitation is how the hypoxia started last time.

  I look over at Drew. Even though it’s snowing pretty heavily, he’s still out of breath and sweaty. Having to carry Violet for so long seems to be taking a toll on him.

  “Drew?” I call out. “You okay to get up this incline? It’s sand. I’m having a tough time myself and I’m not carrying another person on my back.”

  Clint makes his way back over to us. “The hill is the last stretch. That’s the Wave around those rocks. Once we’re about two hundred yards from the finish line, the incline becomes a bit tricky. I wouldn’t call it steep, but it’ll be challenging for you, Drew.”

  “Okay, Indigo.” Drew stands. “I’ll take you up on the six-legged racer offer.”

  As I help Violet stand, her body starts trembling and her knees buckle.

  “Don’t...worry.” She steadies herself by gripping on to my shoulder. “A little weak but I...can make it.”

  A little weak. A lot winded. Slightly agitated and a massive amount of coughing. The Wave is so close, but dammit, not close enough. If only I had The Voice here to offer me some sarcastic wisdom. What would he say? Probably something like, Y’all are almost there. She gonna make it. I’m super psychic ’cuz I’m God!

  Drew and I get situated the way he and Alfred were for the race to the finish line and we trudge up the sandy incline.

  It’s a tough climb. I’m glad Drew and I are working together as I don’t see how he could’ve managed it without help. My hiking boots sink into the sand. I’m laboring with each step, shoulder throbbing, casted arm feeling like an anchor intent on pulling me to the ground. It’s as if I’m dragging my feet through quicksand.

  Take one step.

  Sink into the terrain.

  Extract feet from the sand.

  Repeat.

  In between the simple struggle of walking, I’m trying to remember to breathe. Everything’s a blur. Time. The snow. The sand. The bushes. The ruddy rocks. The cliffs of sandstone in the distance underneath a gray sky.

  I think we’re approaching the final ascent. The part that Clint said would be tough. And it would be a tough climb if you had nothing to carry. But with a hydration pack strapped to my back, an injured shoulder and a broken arm, and holding one half of Violet’s weight, the climb seems insurmountable. My body is screaming with pain.

  “We can do this,” Drew says through clenched teeth. “Let’s try to keep our steps synchronized. You okay, sis?”

  “Yeah, I’m good!” I declare.

  “I meant the other sis.”

  “I’m...good, too,” Violet replies.

  She doesn’t sound good. She’s wheezing and coughing violently.

  I focus on my pacing, trying to get my steps in sync with Drew, convincing myself that if we’re in sync, we’re energetically aligned like Pastor’s always preaching about. I w
atch his boots and count.

  One-two-three.

  Step, step, step.

  Four-five-six.

  Step, step, step.

  Seven-eight-nine.

  Step, step, step.

  And suddenly our boots are gliding across curves of colored sandstone. We’ve made it. Somehow we’ve accomplished the impossible. We’re here. We’re at the Wave.

  “Behold the awesome power of the Wave.” Clint extends his arms dramatically.

  It is a sight to behold, a wonderland of swirling sandstone, a magnificent display of artwork. It’s as if Van Gogh himself were the one responsible for this masterpiece.

  We carefully lower Violet so she’s standing between us.

  “Amazing,” Drew exclaims.

  “It...really is...beautiful.” Violet falls to her knees and lands violently on the rocks.

  “Violet!” I kneel beside her.

  “I...can’t feel...my legs.” She’s kneeling on all fours.

  “What do we do, Drew?” I’m panicking. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “I don’t either!” Drew sounds more panicked than me.

  Now Violet’s eyes are clenched shut. She pounds her fists on the stone. It’s happening again. It’s happening!

  I look over at Clint. “She needs help!”

  “I can’t radio this far out,” Clint explains.

  “Then run,” Drew begs. “Please run! Tell them we need emergency services. Hurry.”

  “At some point on the trail, I’ll get close enough to radio. It shouldn’t be long.” Clint races off.

  I turn my attention back to Violet.

  “Breathe, Violet. Slow. Watch me.” I have no idea what I’m doing or if it can even help. I take dramatically slow breaths, imitating Pastor Jedidiah. Violet mimics me. It’s helping. She’s breathing.

  “I...” She stutters. “I c-can’t...”

  “Shhh.” I’m kneeling beside her, my hand lying across her back in an attempt to comfort her. “Violet, it’s okay.”

  Drew is freaking out. Pacing back and forth on the curving, sloping sandstone. Pulling at his long hair. “It’ll be forever before Clint can get help!”

  “No.” I shake my head. “Michelle already called for help.”

  “What do you mean?” Drew narrows his eyes at me.

  “I mean Michelle called for help. We knew this might happen. Her O2 sat was low before we started.”

  “What? Jesus, Indigo!” Drew throws his hands in the air. It’s the first time Drew’s ever been angry with me. “You had no right to keep this from me. Or from Violet. This is fucked!”

  I stand. “You think I care about your rights, Drew! I don’t. This was fucked from the moment Violet was diagnosed. It’s an idiopathy!”

  “Idiopathy? What the hell does that mean?”

  “Crack open a dictionary, big brother. It means this isn’t my fault. Idiopathic means you’re right. It means fucked!”

  The sound of helicopter blades far off in the distance interrupts our argument. Helicopter blades that seem to be approaching fast.

  “Oh, thank God!” Drew shouts. “They won’t be able to see us. I’m gonna run back down the hill so they’ll know our location. So they know where we are.”

  He takes off, leaving Violet and me alone.

  She’s breathing. They’re shallow, difficult breaths, and she’s clutching her chest as if she’s in great pain. But she’s breathing. At least she’s breathing.

  “I...won’t...go...with them.”

  “Maybe you won’t have to, Vee. I mean, we’re here.” I look up at the sky. “We’re here!” I scream. “You hear me? You said to get her to the Wave. You said she would live!” I cry, my voice echoing across the desert plain. “So now what, huh? It’s time to make good on your word. You promised! Let her live!” I’m sobbing. I’m hysterical. I can hardly see through the snow, through my tears, through my pain.

  “Indigo...” Violet’s frail voice calls out to me.

  I turn to her.

  “It’s...okay.”

  “No!” I sob. “It’s not okay. The Voice promised me. He promised. I believed him. We’re here. You’re supposed to live.”

  “But you see...”

  The helicopter is growing closer.

  “The Voice...was right. I lived. I did.”

  She reaches into her coat pocket and extracts the bottle of medicine that can end her life. I freeze.

  “Violet. Wh-what are you doing with that?”

  “I can’t...get on that helicopter. They’ll put me...on a ventilator. I’ll be in a...hospital bed. I won’t... I...can’t.”

  I know my sister. She won’t be placed on a ventilator. She will refuse. I can’t say I blame her. What would life be like for her then? Unable to eat or speak. Connected to a machine for the few days she’ll have left to live. Tears spill down my cheeks. I drop to my knees beside her. It’s taking all my strength not to take that bottle out of her hand and toss it as far as I can throw. But it’s not my right to do such a thing. I understand that now.

  “This was the plan,” she whispers.

  It feels like my blood freezes solid.

  “Indi...this was the plan.”

  “You can’t mean that.” I shake my head. “You couldn’t have meant to come all this way and die.”

  “Not...here. Not...this way. But...it was always meant...to be a one-way trip. Indigo... I knew.”

  My chest aches. My throat burns. My eyes sting. The dots are connecting. No wonder there was no resistance from Mom and Dad. They would never have taken their terminal daughter on a trek across the country if Violet hadn’t explained that it was to be her final farewell. “They knew too, didn’t they? Mom and Dad?”

  “They knew. I was supposed to take it...tonight. After...the hike.”

  I swallow to hold back the sobs. “And Michelle?”

  “Only Mom and Dad knew. I...made them promise to...keep my secret. Only...them.”

  “Fuck!” I slam my fist onto the stone. Pain shoots up my arm and snakes around to my injured shoulder. My thoughts race back to when Violet gave me the schedule. “Yesterday morning. In the kitchen.” My chest heaves. “You mentioned flights. Are there plane tickets home?”

  “For Mom...and Dad...and you. And me... I guess. Everyone else will...ride back with Pastor.”

  My shoulders shake as the sobs erupt from deep within. The sound of the helicopter is so close now. I’m sure they can see Drew. I’m sure they’re going to be landing soon.

  She twists the cap off the bottle. “Indigo. It is my right to die.”

  “I know.” I hang my head in defeat, tears spilling onto the stones of the Wave.

  “Indigo, look...at me.”

  Somehow I find the strength to meet her eyes. They’re red and pained, but she still manages to look beautiful. With the snow falling. With the swirls of sandstone surrounding her like a halo.

  “It is my right to die. But...” She pauses to catch her breath. “It is your right...to live.”

  “But, Violet. I want you to live.” I cry. “This whole trip was so you could live.”

  “Don’t you see? The Voice...was right. Indigo...” She’s struggling to get the words out. “I...lived. This trip. It was...” She extends her arm. Snowflakes instantly melt when they land on her trembling fingertips. “So beautiful. So perfect. So...amazing. I lived, Indigo. I live now.” She reaches out and wipes my tears. “Don’t cry. I will see you again. On the other side.”

  “I will miss you till then,” I whisper.

  She takes my hand. “Forgive me? For dying this way.”

  “Forgive me for living.”

  Her chest heaves as the sound of the helicopter blares louder than ever. I know it’s landing. Only moments before they reach us now.

 
“Look...” She points. “It’s us...in the sky.”

  There is a small opening in the clouds. A tiny tuft of blue sky. There is also a small glimmer of a rainbow, barely visible. It’s not arching across the desert or anything. But the colors are there. I see it. Violet does, too.

  “Stay with me,” she says. “And don’t...let them take me...until I sleep.” Violet downs the medicine from the bottle. Swallows painfully. “This isn’t suicide,” she whispers.

  “This isn’t suicide,” I repeat, almost blinded by my tears.

  “I’m dying with dignity.”

  “You’re dying with dignity. It’s your right.”

  She lies on the rocks.

  I pull off my gloves and lie beside her.

  “Any...good riddles?” she says so softly I almost don’t hear.

  I squeeze her hand, trying to transfer all the warmth and life I have left. “What’s invisible...” Tears continue to blur my vision. I wipe them away. “And makes people...suffer.” I intertwine my fingers with hers. “You get symptoms like sweating...and nausea...and just a general feeling of discomfort.” I sniff. “It makes you feel pain.” I rub my chest, hoping that will somehow take away the ache. “And yet...no one can live without it. No one.”

  Her eyes start to close. “Hmm,” she whispers. “I...give...up. What...is it?”

  I scoot closer so that my body is curled up beside hers. Her cheek feels surprisingly warm. “It’s love.”

  She smiles.

  chapter nineteen

  When the paramedics rush up the hill, Violet is asleep in my arms. I stuff the empty bottle into the pocket of my coat, hiding it from the EMTs before they whisk her away. Drew is hysterical. He’s screaming and wailing in agony as they load her into the helicopter. Clint tries to calm him to no avail. I won’t watch the helicopter go. I can’t watch them take my sister away.

  Instead, I walk across the sloping rocks of the Wave. The snow still falls in peaceful flurries. The roaring blades of the helicopter meld with the beating of my broken heart. Drew’s anguish echoes in the tranquil space.

  These dunes began forming one hundred ninety million years ago. Shaped by wind and water erosion. What a life these rocks have lived. What stories they must have to tell. I move down an incline until I find myself beside a pool of water collected near the base. The shade from the shelter the rocks provide gives me a chill as I pause to stare into the water. It acts like a mirror, reflecting the landscape around me. Reflecting the face that belongs to us both. It’s almost as if she’s on the other side, staring back at me. Her skin no longer pale. Her cheeks full. Light sprung back into her brown eyes. Hope restored. A lifetime of endless possibilities awaiting.