Inside Voices

by Sarah Davis

  Noah cleared his throat, and Army asked, “You have had many more visions?”

  “Yes, but nothing much to talk about.” Her voice was soft, barely audible above the wind’s returned assault on the tent. She wanted to take the hanging lantern down and place it on the ground to stop the light from swinging.

  “So, these visions with the man and the bear…how else are they different?” he asked.

  “Before I watched a scene play out when I was asleep. Now, though, they come when I am awake or asleep.”

  “Like the day you tackled me?” Noah interrupted.

  “Actually, that day the vision I saw very clear. And not to repeat myself, Noah, but I didn’t tackle you. That day, though…the bear we chipped. That was the scarred bear. My scarred bear,” Penny said as she rotated the bear figurine in her hands. “For as much as I see him, either my mind just can’t get rid of his face, or I am destined to meet up with him again.” She made a guttural sound.

  “Or it could be this bear has become tied to you. A spirit guide,” Army said.

  Penny looked up at his words. Spirit guide. She had heard of the concept before but had not connected it to the scarred bear.

  “Spirit guides can be animals.” Army continued, “Shaman teachings tell of them as a link to the afterlife or otherworld. Since the bear is alive, it may mean something different. What, though, I could only guess. Perhaps he is linked to the killer in some way…perhaps he was the bear that came across the first two women after the killer left them.”

  She said, “I’m not scared of the bear. Wary, for sure. Awed. But not fearful. At least not the kind of fear that I sense when I see the Shadowed Man. I think it might be best to say there might be meaning to my visions, even if the meaning is elusive. But not many people would think me sane if I began sharing actual details, although to this point there aren’t any details to share.” Penny felt bile rise as she recalled the image of the woman’s face that had flashed in the premonition she had at wrestling practice. If she disclosed details, would it change anything for the woman?

  “We believe you,” Noah said.

  Army agreed. “We understand you have faced a lifetime of traumas in your young life. You are not so far gone a bit of salt won’t save you.”

  A barking laugh burst from Noah. “True words.”

  “These visions should be viewed as a gift,” Army said.

  It was Penny’s turn to laugh, albeit with a bitterness. “They sure don’t feel much like a gift, Army. I don’t understand what they are showing me. They are confusing and frightening.”

  “What I mean to say is that being tuned differently means you can play in a unique key. Do you think I haven’t noticed the way you have with the dogs? I think you possess more gifts than foresight.”

  “I did see a woman’s face during a recent image.” From the periphery, Penny noticed both Army and Noah leaned closer to her. “Not someone I recognized or anything. She was screaming. I’m worried what that means. Do you think it might help if I tell you what she looked like?” Unease flooded her as she recalled the forgotten vision, certain that the woman had already met her demise. After providing the limited description, Army and Noah confirmed her suspicions: they did not immediately recognize the woman. Few women in the community had flaming red hair that matched the age of the woman Penny described, and no one with black tips, although it was possible the girl was someone new or someone they had not yet met.

  “Noah suggested I try meditation,” she began.

  “And has that helped?” Noah interjected.

  Rueful was her expression. “It has helped me sleep better, I guess.”

  “Tell me what you have been trying,” encouraged Army, and she did. He offered several tips to quiet her mind and suggested once she reach that state of calm awareness, she should then recall the images from her premonitions. Perhaps it would trigger details that hid from her.

  “If it is alright, I would rather not try it now. With the wind and how tired I am, I doubt I will stay awake much longer.”

  The conversation turned to other, lighter subjects, for which Penny was thankful. With the need for sleep descending upon them, she exited the warm tent one last time to relieve herself, stretch a bit and check on the dogs.

  The sky was clear. As she gazed upwards, she found Orion, the Big Dipper, and Polaris amidst the colorful brushstrokes of the Milky Way. The stars twinkled, unfazed by the evil that prowled the town. The view mesmerized her, and she could have stayed out all night observing the night sky. As it was, the wind lashed at her, finding and hauling away her warmth. Upon her return to the tent, she found her two companions asleep. She crawled to the center of the tent to the open spot Noah and Army left her and within minutes fell into a deep sleep.

  The next day, before their return trip, Army and Noah showed Penny how they caught fish in the winter. Flags marked where nets had been set previously, and after chopping out blocks of ice, the trio hauled loads of whitefish. They collected the larger ones, threw the small ones back into the lake and re-set the nets. Penny paid careful attention since the job would be her responsibility every now and again. The fish would be laid out and frozen, then used as dog food for the winter. The fish, in addition to the whale they stored, a bit of dog kibble and a vitamin supplement would be adequate to sustain the dogs over the winter.

  Wrestling

  Since Penny had agreed to assist with wrestling, she met with Noah and the head coach, Mark Winkler, at the school for a conference in mid-October. The coach had already worked out a practice schedule, so they went through her duties and how best to use her during conditioning.

  Although overwhelmed at first (but trying hard not to let it show), by the second practice Penny found her stride and settled into her role. Noah’s pointers on form and technique during practice for the wrestlers were not lost on Penny, and she worked to improve herself. Very few of the kids, as Penny referred to them initially, complained and even then only after the end of the conditioning drills. Even so, all worked hard.

  Ten days into practice, Penny happened on one of the two female wrestlers who was crying in the locker room after practice. Molly, a junior, was teased earlier that day by several girls in her class about the winter dance. Penny asked if that was what brought about the girl’s meltdown during takedown practice. Molly nodded sadly.

  “No one asked me to go, and my friends are all going with dates,” she sniffed.

  “To be honest, I didn’t date in high school. I just didn’t find any guys in my school…enough…no, I don’t know the right words. No one ever caught my eye, no one I wished to date. So, I didn’t. And the other students made fun of me for it. But I told myself that if it bothered them, then that was their problem, not mine. I would do things on my own terms or not at all,” Penny told her. “If you don’t want to go to the winter dance, don’t. You can hang out with me and play guitar. If you want to go, then ask someone. Anyone. Or go by yourself. It’s not like you won’t know anyone there. Just be the brave girl you are when you are on the mat wrestling.”

  Molly was one of the toughest wrestlers on the team, having been raised with three older brothers who also wrestled.

  “Did you go to many dances?” Molly sniffed and wiped at her nose.

  “Not one. But that is not the same as never been dancing. My father and I danced a lot when I was younger. Never met a guy in high school that I thought would be a better partner than my father.”

  “My father can’t dance at all. He is in a wheelchair,” Molly said.

  “Are you sure? Guys in wheelchairs can do some pretty incredible things…”

  Molly was quiet for a few moments.

  “Look, people can and will say or think what they want about me, but the only one who can make me happy is me. Other people’s negativity is a waste of their own energy, not mine. We are in control of our own thoughts and feelings. Sure, it is hard not to let comments and remarks eat away at our confidence. Self-doubt is a tough oppon
ent - but only if you let it be. We are only human. You know what I feel good about now? I am not ashamed of who I am. I didn’t do things to please other shallow people. I didn’t give in to peer pressure on sex, drugs or alcohol. I did pressure peers into being respectful to elders and veterans, but I also gave respect to those who didn’t because I was good enough to be respectful.” Penny paused, gathering breath. “Look, I’ve seen more death and loss than anyone ever should. Life should not be taken for granted. It should be cherished and shared with those you love, not wasted on those who do not love you.”

  Penny patted Molly on the back. Molly, much like Rita, who apparently preferred the closeness of a hug, grabbed Penny into an embrace and held her tightly. Penny felt the girl’s hot tears on her shirt.

  “Shh, it’s okay. You might not get exactly what you want…like how much I want millions of dollars…” Molly choked back a laugh. “But you should learn to appreciate what you do have. Your family and friends love you very much. These girls, they talk big and pretend that nothing hurts them, but they are just like you and me. They’re scared. They’re self-conscious. They bleed red.”

  Molly took a deep, shuddering breath and released Penny. “Thank you for talking with me.”

  “Anytime.” Penny watched Molly gather her things and leave, wondering if she said the right words. She walked out afterwards to discover Noah leaning against the wall around the corner.

  “What are you doing in here?” she whispered. “Stalking?” She gasped in mock horror. “Not eavesdropping, are you?”

  “No, no. Stay calm, woman,” he smiled. “I saw Molly leaving. Is she okay?” He stood upright as Penny neared him.

  “I hope so. She was worried about some girls making fun of her for not going to the dance.”

  “Really? I heard three of the wrestlers argue over who was going to ask her to the dance.” He paused. “Are you going to chaperone?” Noah raised an eyebrow her direction.

  “Chaperone?” She raised an eyebrow back. “No, I’m sure the thought has not crossed their minds.”

  “You would be surprised. You are an assistant coach. And female. They need female figure heads to chaperone.”

  “Are you chaperoning?” she asked.

  “No, not this time.

  Penny shuddered. Dancing scared her almost as much as swimming, but she had yet to have a dance-related vision.

  Penny, could you make time to spend with your sister? asked Lucy as Penny walked out to the truck with Noah to head back home.

  What do you mean? I see you every night.

  Silence stretched out in her mind for what seemed like eternity until Lucy finally answered. Look, you are busy. Research, wrestling, self-defense classes, guitar practice with Noah, Blue and the other dogs, and Noah…I know why you like to be busy, but this is borderline ridiculous.

  It’s no worse than before, really, if you think about it, responded Penny.

  Sure, Penny.

  As the hours of sunlight had waned, Penny made increased efforts to be outside as much as possible. The temperatures dipped lower, too, especially at night, and the wind seemed incessant. The winds of darkness, as Lucy dubbed them, gusting down their necks.

  Over sixty days of night neared, and Penny was starting to become apprehensive over the thought of the sun’s complete disappearance in less than a month. Snow settled and stayed during the beginning of October. The small drifts shifting back and forth like the sands in the desert.

  Penny promised to make some time for her sister, just the two of them. After she and Noah returned from their little trip they had been planning for a week. It was the last they would take before wrestling officially started next month and took up Noah’s time.

  After Noah pulled up to her house, she went inside to grab her bag that was packed for a three-day, two-night excursion. Blue was already out with the other dogs. The plan was to make snow shelters both nights, but they did pack a tent just in case.

  Penny smiled as she recalled how Eelyn had fretted over Penny going out alone with Noah for the extended trek.

  “Based on the ratio of formality and friendliness that Noah showcases in my presence, I’m pretty sure he is either repulsed or completely unattracted to me. So, your worries are all for naught, mother. Fear not for my safety, for my guide is a master of self-preservation and survival, and I, a worthy assistant, should he become overwhelmed by my wit and beauty.”

  “I was more worried about your environmental safety and how you two will fair in near-zero temps with twenty-two dogs to care for,” her mother said.

  The trip was a success in that no one died nor had Noah been overcome by her wit. They built individual snow tunnels for practice, but their true nighttime shelter was big enough for both so they could huddle and share warmth.

  The first night, they spread a Mylar blanket on the ground and used the capsized sled as a windbreak. They hung a tarp above them to provide more cover, like a makeshift tent. Penny dug down beneath the snow to find bare ground on which to establish a fire. They boiled a rabbit Noah shot earlier in the day over the hot flames and shared the meal. Penny wished for utensils and napkins but made do with a clean sock and her fingers. They then shared the liquid in which they boiled the rabbit. Although they were in survival mode training, the dogs were not. Noah claimed they ate better than the two humans. Penny disagreed. The reek of muktuk, dog kibble, and fish were not at all appealing to her nostrils or stomach.

  “So, tell me about your sister,” Noah prompted as they settled in their sleeping bags.

  The tarp sides luffed in the gentle breeze. Penny focused on the thin clouds that glowed pink from the aurora. The air was cold, and her breath fogged as she exhaled deeply.

  Penny tried to gather her thoughts. Where to start?

  “She used to be more like me. More than me. She was active, involved in taekwondo, wrestling, drama. When she began losing her balance, my parents took her to the doctor.” Penny shrugged, thinking back. “It took a lot of tests, but they finally diagnosed her with a brain tumor. Inoperable.”

  The silence stretched between them.

  “She underwent treatments, radiation, chemo. They stalled the growth of the tumor, but by then her balance and coordination were permanently affected. She turned from athletics and started keeping journals, writing stories to distract her from the pain.”

  Huddled up, Noah switched subjects. “What was it like growing up in Pasadena?”

  “Warm,” she said.

  Although he was supportive about her visions, she kept her and her sister’s telepathy a secret. Perhaps in time she could share; it seemed even more private than sharing her visions. Instead, stories from her childhood fell from her lips.

  “Once we grew out of the band phase, she decided she wanted to become a veterinarian. That made mother happy…and irritated.”

  “Why irritated?”

  “Being a vet is hard. I understand it more now. It isn’t just about helping animals. The long hours, emergencies calling you away from time with family, the difficult owners…it was worse in Pasadena. Our father was an ER nurse and his shift rotated, so sometimes both our parents happened to be home together at night. Most times, we had one or none. When we moved to Anchorage, mother worked part-time and went back to college part-time. I think it was actually a struggle for her, not having emergencies to tend to at all hours of the day and night.”

  “Did you ever want to be a vet?”

  “Yeah, when I was younger. Then Lucy and I decided she would be the vet and I would be a marine biologist.” Now all she does is write her stories.

  “What about a nurse like your dad?”

  “People are gross,” she said with a laugh. “Being a nurse didn’t appeal to me. I am not made of the tough fiber that one needs to be a nurse.”

  “Oh, I think you are tough enough. But I agree, the first time I would have to look at someone’s foot, I’d be done.” Noah asked tentatively, “So, your father has been gone for how long?”<
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  “Two years. It was my senior year in high school,” she told him, her voice soft. “I left during my off hour to go search for props for an upcoming play. I was stage manager. While I was in the storage room reaching for a box, I felt this soft, furry thing with my hand. Scared the shit out of me. It was Willy, the science room rat, who disappeared for a couple of weeks. Someone forgot to latch his cage or something. He was skinny. I fed him part of a granola bar I carried in my pocket. Then the fire alarm went off for the fire drill, so I grabbed the white rat to take him back to the science room. I didn’t want to chance losing him outside. While I was putting him back into his cage, I heard these sounds. Like at the shooting range. Pop. Pop-pop. Like popcorn, over the sound of the fire alarm. And when I looked out the window…” she paused, thinking, and took a deep breath before continuing, “…there was chaos. Gunmen drove by in a van, shooting at the kids on the lawn. And I just watched.”

  Noah turned on his side, and she mirrored the move. Their eyes met and she found his gaze steadied her.

  “There was this new kid, Ahrin, who wore a puffy orange vest, like in Back to the Future. He ran out of the school and entered the back of the van. I first thought he was going to help, but then he turned around and shot the security dog that ran after him. He climbed into the van, and then they left. I called 911 and went out to help as many as I could. When I arrived on the field,” she broke off, refusing to remember the sounds and smells that had assaulted her, “the scene was exactly like I had dreamt. A piece of the puzzle fell into place. I replay the events over and over and cannot figure out what I could have done differently to have prevented it.”