Inside Voices

by Sarah Davis

  Fjord lumbered over and tried to get in the sled with them until he realized the effort was futile. He instead lay down next to Penny and started chewing on something.

  When the aurora ebbed, Noah pointed out various constellations, telling her the Inuit names, and she followed up with the names with which she was familiar. Taurus was Nanuk, the spirit of the polar bear. Cassiopeia was the Lamp Stand. Ursa Major was Caribou. Ursa Minor was the More Red Man. The Milky Way was called the Divider. The belt of Orion was the Three Hunters following the Polar Bear. The aurora was their ancestors calling out to them, watching over them from the spirit world. If you got too close to the aurora, your head could be cut off and used to play ball.

  “No,” Penny laughed. “That is terrible! Did you consider your ancestors to be angry or jealous of you or something?”

  Noah laughed as well. He went on to explain that when he grew up, falling stars were known as “star poop,” earning another laugh from both.

  “Usually we aren’t able to see the stars. The fog, blowing snow, clouds and the aurora block our view.”

  A comfortable silence settled between them as the aurora flared. She strained to head the inaudible music that played before her.

  I am so glad you got to see this, Lucy’s words echoed in Penny’s mind.

  Finally, Penny drug herself away from Noah’s embrace. The cold was heavy into her muscles. They returned the blankets and themselves to the tent. She rubbed Fjord before she climbed in. He rolled about in the fresh snow, happy for the cold. Blue and Winter weaseled back inside the tent. Fjord chuffed and nosed around the zipper until Penny told him “no.” They crawled back into their sleeping bags and slept for the few remaining hours of night.

  Cracks

  Lucy excitedly but carefully handed Penny the leather journal that Penny had given her last Christmas. Neatly scrawled across multiple pages was the short tale of a lonely queen. Penny hungrily delved into the story.

  What did you think? Lucy asked her twin hesitantly about her thoughts on the short tale.

  “This is one you started ages ago, isn’t it?” Penny asked.

  Lucy nodded.

  When they discovered Lucy’s debilitating illness, the twins spent many late nights discussing what it might be like to lose each other. Lucy assured Penny that she would wait for her just past death’s door. Whether it would be months, years, decades, she would wait. The story was an idea that stemmed from her fear of dying young.

  Seriously? It isn’t obvious? Penny thought as she wiped her eyes, unable to choke out words.

  No, your emotions are muddling our connection a bit…

  Penny closed the book and walked over to where Lucy sat in the room. She insisted on being out of sight while Penny read, but eventually curiosity led her back into the room. In a way this was humorous, as Lucy may be out of sight, but she was never out of mind. Penny smiled at the thought.

  Lucy, it was amazing. I really liked it.

  But… she paused dramatically.

  No buts. It was good. Penny lay the book on top of their shared dresser.

  She showed a rare, sweet smile. I’m glad you like it.

  What about a title? I don’t recall seeing one.

  Oh, forgot to write it. Yes, I thought I would call it “The Queen.” Lucy twisted her hands as if in worry.

  I like it. When are you going to show Mother?

  As soon as she gets home. I wanted you to be the first to read it.

  Before Fjord’s first birthday in mid-October, Army purchased a new white utility van to transport the critter around. Fjord approved of his new ride, as evidenced by his immediate slumber upon entering the padded back of the white utility van. Their first trip was to the shipping docks to use the scale.

  “Caught me a whopper,” said Army when he read the weight and whistled.

  The scale read three-hundred-and-eighty-eight pounds.

  Penny stood in awe as Fjord stepped off and pawed at her leg. She pushed his paw away and rubbed his head. He wiped his head across her thigh, pushing her off balance. As usual, she ended up sprawled on the ground, Fjord taking advantage of the situation. With a paw on her chest, he licked her face.

  They celebrated Fjord’s first birthday with a fish and muktuk cake out at the wildlife station. Army acquired several more tractor tires, Penny presumed from the fishermen, several tree trunks, mostly driftwood, and more large inflatable balls. Noah presented the bear with a stash of reindeer antlers that incited several tug of war games between Fjord and Blue. The larger he grew, the more Penny wondered what was in store for her.

  She tried weaning herself from the sleep aids and anti-anxiety medications, wanting more normal-feeling days, but every time she tried, nightmares from her past plagued her nights. Living on her own was a big change even though she saw her family, Army, and Noah every day.

  Although Bill and Rita had left months ago, the team still had some work to do. The week following Halloween, Penny joined Noah on a three-day trip out with the dogs and Fjord to gather information on the ice freeze and to discern the status of oil contamination in the area. There was growing concern over oil levels in the seawater following multiple oil leaks from the drilling rigs during the summer.

  “There are reports of dead seals and polar bears scattered along the ice. Normally, the water drags a carcass down, which is why we have limited knowledge of bear pathology. So, this sudden increase is disturbing. We should gather core samples at multiple sites so we can share and compare with other research groups,” Army said. His new motto morphed into “share and compare.”

  The extent of the effects surprised her.

  They could get there more quickly with snow machines, but Army currently had zero out of the two that actually ran.

  The site Noah and Penny headed to was west along the coast. With just over five hours of daylight, they would travel out on day one, collect samples on day two and head back on day three.

  With help, Penny slept well the week before they set out. Her energy and excitement invigorating. No visions plagued her dreams before the trip.

  Lucy, who decided not to make the move with her sister, stayed relatively busy, rarely around when Penny dropped in to visit, often staying in her room if she was home. Penny stayed extremely busy; so busy in fact, her guitar sat untouched for weeks.

  Okay, Lu, I’m off to save the world! No just kidding. Just headed out to take ice samples. Pretty excited—I’ve never done that before.

  There was no response from Lucy. Her mother hugged her tightly and told her not to worry. Or she told her mother not to worry? Penny couldn’t shake the sense of foreboding that crept up on her as Noah and she set out, Fjord running along behind.

  They traveled mostly along the fast ice—ice attached to the shore and seabed—as it provided a relatively flat run. When they arrived at the coordinates on the next day, Noah suggested Fjord go off on his own to hunt. Since there was a recorded healthy population of seals in the area, Noah thought Fjord might find some success. The bear’s natural instincts kicked in as he sniffed the air, catching a scent that ensnared his attention. Not long after their camp was set on the shore, Fjord lumbered off. Penny and Noah decided to drill the ice at different sites to speed up the process. They took the sled out on the ice to gather the samples.

  Penny checked one last time to make sure the dogs’ tethers held before walking away from Noah. He quickly pulled up a core sample before she arrived at her site. She knew this because he already started his count, his voice coming through in her earpiece.

  “Penny, this sample is pretty thin.”

  “How thin?” she asked.

  He read the measurement, and her insides tensed. Much thinner than expected. A ‘we shouldn’t be here’ kind of thin.

  “Probably an error. A fluke. Let me move and take another,” he said.

  “Be careful, Noah,” Penny cautioned. They both knew the dangers, and she tried to force down the rising tension, reminding herself ab
out the lack of premonition prior to the trip. The hairs stood up on the back of her neck.

  While only separated by two-hundred yards, an ice pressure ridge and snow formation that looked like an angel with its wings partially extended blocked her view. Penny stopped drilling and adjusted her stance so her video recording device on her headband captured the scene with the angel.

  What an awesome picture.

  Returning her attention to the job at hand, she collected her first sample. Read the measurement. It validated Noah’s reading as not being a fluke. His voice in her ear startled her.

  “My second one is thin, too. We need to move.”

  She began to respond, but a loud sound and vibration beneath her feet caught her attention. A loud crack. Startled, the drill slipped and fell to the ice.

  As she glanced at the drill and began to reach down for it, she felt more than heard the low moan. A spider web of tiny cracks shot out across the ice below her feet

  Jump. Now!

  Penny launched herself as hard as she could away from the spot and landed hard on her stomach on the ice. Her boots provided little support as they slid against the now loose ice. Frantically, she struggled to grab onto something and pull herself away from the hole. She felt the icy water find its way into her boots as her legs sank into the hostile water. She was shouting for Noah against the wind that had picked up. As she turned her head, she saw the microphone that she had clipped to her hood lay on the ice, smashed beneath her mitten. She screamed.

  “Help!” The wind carried her plea away from her would-be savior. “Noah! Noah! Help me!”

  She slipped further down; the glacial water pulled at her legs and then her belly. Cold shock set in, and she started to hyperventilate. Slipping, she scrambled at the lip of the hole, hoping to hold onto the edge, but the ice rim broke. Her head stayed above water for mere seconds before the current pulled her under. She found the strength to pull herself back up, breathing in the cold air.

  Lucy! Lucy! Fjord! Noah! Noahnoahnoahnoah! A strong buzzing filled her head. She opened her mouth to scream but saltwater invaded, and she choked.

  Submerged a second time, Penny heard Lucy screaming for her to hold her breath. Penny’s body was pushed and pulled against the underside of the ice by the water that steadily gurgled its displeasure at the intrusion. It wrenched the warmth from her bones. Her eyes burned as she searched for the light. Her lungs spasmed. Weak light filtered down through the hole, so very far away. Penny felt a bump with her foot and pushed off on it, clawing her way back to the hole. She was awarded with a taste of the blessed air once again.

  Noah, Fjord, Blue, Lucy, she chanted over and over. Help me!

  She was cold. So very cold. Her arms became lead without feeling. As she began to dip beneath the surface again, her body stopped responding. No amount of will could make her legs move. She held her breath, thinking that the burning in her lungs would warm her. It seemed to work. Warmth spread through her body. She no longer felt the pain of the cold. No more shivering. It will be okay. She opened her eyes to watch her thoughts ride the bubbles tumbling lazily away from her. The dark water roughly embraced her, pulling her down with its temptation of eternal relief.

  Fjord, where are you?

  Noah, Noah!

  Mother, Mommy…

  Ohnohnonononononononono

  She heard Lucy one last time before the darkness consumed all.

  Fjord is coming.

  Blinded by white light, she felt no pain although she sensed movement. There was a sense of being pulled. Something scraped against her legs. And then, the cloak of darkness descended.

  Light. Pain rocked her body. She shivered. Something harsh ripped the skin from her face. She coughed, choking on the putrid saltwater escaping her lungs. The water sought its home back beneath the ice. Darkness descended once again.

  THE PRESENT

  Lucy

  Ironic. No nightmares warned me of danger. Just a vague foreboding.

  I am adrift beneath the water. In and out of consciousness, I ride the swells, a raft on the open sea. Up and down. There is an absence. The absence grows and nags at me. I do not know why.

  There are voices. Some familiar and some not. I try to speak, but the water presses in on me and I am unable to open my mouth.

  “…thank God you were there…”

  “…don’t know if I have the strength…”

  “…love…”

  “…there is a good chance she may never recover fully…”

  “…without that video, we would have thought…”

  “…please come back to me…”

  “…Lucy…Ben…”

  I wake, knowing I am waking but unable to take control of the speed. Too slow. I take a long breath in, release it slowly. My eyes open, but I cannot see. They feel dry, sandy, and I blink rapidly to clear them.

  Focus.

  My eyes adjust to the darkness, a strange blue light haloing the shadows. I turn my head to find Mother sleeping. Lost in dreams. Or nightmares. In the dim lights, I can make out the dark circles beneath her closed eyelids.

  “Mother,” I whisper. The sound is raspy, harsh. My mouth as dry as my eyes. I clear my throat and try again, louder this time. “Mother.”

  She sits up quickly, startled. Her eyes, the shadows clinging beneath them, find mine. Disbelief washes across her face. Then relief. She cries and reaches toward me, the scent of laundry soap and my favorite hair conditioner coming to her as tightly as she to me. She smells like home. I can only weakly return the hug.

  “It’s okay,” she coos. “I’m here.”

  A nurse peeks her head in the room. Disappears. Reappears and approaches. She has a warm, broad smile. She checks the monitor by my bed, checks my pulse. Pats my shoulder. Then quietly closes the door when she leaves.

  “Oh, baby girl, I love you so much. I missed you.” My mother is sobbing and smiling. A difficult thing, that. I smile through my own tears that now moisten my eyes.

  “What happened?” I ask.

  “You fell through the ice. Do you remember that?”

  The memory of an icy embrace tightens around my limbs. The shivering begins even though I am floating in the heavy quilt from my grandmother. I’m too warm and so very cold at once.

  A large, bearded man enters the room wearing a white coat with a stethoscope around his neck. Introduces himself as Dr. Tea.

  He examines me, listens to my chest. Asks me questions that jumble together. What is your full name? What is your birthday? How old are you? Redundant, since I just gave him my birth date. Look directly at this light. Follow the light. How many fingers am I holding up? How do you feel? Can you tell us what you remember?

  As I answer his questions, the memories slurry in my mind. The ice cracking beneath me. I remember jumping and then sliding into the water.

  Lucy? Where are you? My thoughts are still sluggish, and the shivering has become more of a vibration deep in my bones.

  “Lucy?!” I say out loud. “Where’s Lucy? She’s not here.” My fingers glide against my smooth hair that someone has braided. Ugh, I need the pain to focus.

  My mother doesn’t respond. As she stares at me, her face pales and her mouth opens and closes slowly as she struggles for the right words.

  A twinge had taken residence in my belly. “Did something happen to her? Did she go stay with Bianca?”

  My mother still says nothing.

  Lucy! Lucy! I scream in my head as I look around the hospital room for some sign. Something inside splinters, fracturing into a million sharp pieces. I can’t hear you! Where are you?

  “Mother, what happened while I was asleep?” I blink against the tears that fall, look at my mother who is shaking her head. Her hands are clenched tight at her sides.

  “Penny, what do you mean you can’t hear her?” she asks.

  “In my head. Our twin-tuition. And she, me. You know about our telepathy. You said we could read each other’s thoughts.” My insides begin to sh
ake. The heart rate monitor beeping escalates, and a warning alarm goes off. My words begin to slur together.

  “Ican’thearhershesnotthinking…” My hands clutch my head as I begin to shake.

  The doctor barks orders as nurses enter my room. He tells my mother that she needs to stand back.

  Lucy! Lucy. Lucy…where are you…

  I awake for the second time in the hospital room to the sound of a metronome and the hospital smell. The ticking waxes and wanes. Why is there a metronome in my room? Some sick joke? No, the clock on the wall. Just the clock on the wall.

  My mother is staring out the window. Her face shadowed by the dim light outside. When she hears me sit up, she speaks without looking at me. As I come fully awake, she tells me a story. The story of my rescue.

  Fjord pulled me out of the water. He, Noah and the dogs did their best to warm me up until an emergency crew flew in. Noah stayed back to bring the animals home. I have spent fourteen days in a coma that the doctors held me in to allow my body to heal.

  “Noah can tell you details about your rescue later. The important thing,” she says softly as she sits beside me in the bed, “is that you are alive.”

  “Lucy? Is Lucy…” I know. Deep down I know. Though I keep my eyes closed, I cannot dam the flow of tears. The steady ticking counting down my remaining time.

  She strokes my hair. A soft kiss against my forehead.

  I lost her again, I think.

  I am not left alone for very long while at the hospital. The time I’m alone, I try to remove the clock batteries. Apparently, I haven’t been the first to loathe the loud clock, or the cage securing it to the wall is standard protocol.

  On the second day that I am awake, a new doctor with a wizardly beard and a kind smile spends time with me.

  “Based on your preparedness for such an occurrence and your mother’s stories of how thorough you are, I am frankly surprised that you are alive and well today. You undoubtedly will get more details from your mother and friends, but let me give you the basic story.” This doctor prefers I call him George and continues with his speech, “After you fell into the water, your emergency beacon notified the EMS team here in Utqiaġvik. They immediately contacted your numbers, getting through to your mother to notify her of your distress call and to your friend Noah, who was able to answer your satellite phone.” I nod. It was in my pack on the sled. “He was able to tell them what happened, and he stayed on the line with the dispatcher the entire time. The flight team locked into your signal and flew out to your position.”