The man spins the wheel and I bite the skin around my thumb, watching apprehensively as a ball falls through the opening. “Our next lucky winner of the day. Number one.”
A woman raises one hand. She has children with her. I deflate. It’s over. Our number wasn’t called. My head slumps forward. Someone is going to have to peel me off this floor. My family trusted me. I trusted The Voice.
“There are three spots left and four people in your party,” the employee states. “Do you want to take the permits and have one person sit out?”
I study the family. There’s a teenage boy. Maybe fifteen years old. The two younger children look a little older than Bran and Nam. The woman shakes her head.
“I can’t separate the family,” she states sadly. The two younger children look like they’re about to cry. “Unfortunately, we have to pass, sir.”
A murmur erupts from the crowd. My head shoots up. Another shot? I turn to Violet. “Did she say what I think she said?”
Violet whispers, “We can still win.”
“Tough call to make but I do understand.” The man spins the wheel again as the dejected family exits the room together. “Lucky number nine.”
A woman with an oversize backpack stuffed to the brim raises her hand. “Nine here!” She smiles. “Yes! Yes!”
“Party of one,” the employee states.
I exhale. Only two permits left. Not sure how Violet and I could make this hike by ourselves. We’d need help. Maybe we could pair up with one of the other hiking groups? But...like they’d want to be dragged down by all of Violet’s needs? It would be kind if someone agreed to help us, but it’s not fair to even ask.
I glance over at Mom and Dad. Mom’s head is bowed. I imagine she’s praying. Dad’s cracking his knuckles one by one like Alfred does. Speaking of Alfred, I scope him out leaning beside the door. Our eyes meet and he gives me a thumbs-up. He still has hope. He still believes in this mission.
The man spins the wheel. He spins and spins and spins until, finally, a ball falls through the opening.
The Voice promised. He promised.
“Number forty-one,” the man says.
I scream. “That’s us!” I cry. “That’s us!”
Violet and I cheer and embrace.
The man picks up the form I filled out. “Ten? Whew. Only two permits left. I imagine you’re willing to break up the party?”
I look over at Mom and Dad. Mom shrugs.
“Yes, sir! Absolutely. We’ll take them.”
The man leans back in his chair. “That’s the last two and that concludes today’s lottery. Congratulations to the winners, and to the losers...try again tomorrow if you can. We’ll see you then.”
People start filing out of the room as the happy winners linger. Mom and Dad move toward us.
“Indigo, how exactly is this gonna work?” Mom asks. “You and Violet can’t take this hike alone.”
“Maybe one of the men go with her?” Dad asks.
“They need at least three,” Mom insists. “Two people to carry Violet when the trail gets steep. Now, I’ve been reading about this hike, and not only is it dangerous, people online say it’s confusing. There aren’t a ton of markers to guide you to the Wave. You can get lost. You can die. I’m not sending two teenagers out on a dangerous hike by themselves.” Mom shakes her head. “Indigo, this isn’t feasible.”
“Then let Violet go with Drew,” I suggest.
Dad shakes his head. “Your mom’s right. It’s too big a task for Drew alone. He’ll be exhausted. I talked with one of the employees here. There’s a portion of the hike where you have to cross over a river basin. It’s winter and it’s rained a lot this past month. What if there’s water? Ice? I’m exhausted after carrying Violet for a few steps. How’s Drew gonna manage five miles?”
“So what are you guys saying?” My voice is rising, hysterics building.
Mom and Dad exchange disheartened looks.
“We think...” Mom starts. “You should give the permits away.”
“I won’t do that!” I scream.
“Indigo.” Dad sighs. “We don’t see another option. You have no choice.”
“But we came all this way,” I wail.
I watch number twenty-eight, the party of three, getting their permits stamped and approved by the employee. They look downright jubilant. Two men and a woman. All in their twenties, it seems. Rucksacks strapped to their backs. Messy hair and wrinkled clothes that seem to suggest they’ve been living in one of the RVs parked outside to make this hike to the Wave a reality.
Alfred and Drew approach with Pastor at their side as the room empties, leaving only the winners and the visitor center employees.
“What’s wrong?” Pastor Jedidiah asks kindly.
“We think it best Indigo give the permits away. They can’t make the hike alone,” Dad explains.
“Oh, dear.” Jedidiah’s happy expression turns sour. “That’s heartbreaking, though I do understand. Parents know best.”
“I have to agree.” Michelle steps forward. “Indigo, we tried. We got here. And your number got called. I think that’s miraculous in itself.”
“Yeah, Indigo,” Drew adds. “This has been a wonderful trip.”
“Plus, there are a lot of hikes we can take today instead,” Dad offers. “Amazing views of the Southwest to take in.”
“Very good point.” Pastor pushes his hands together and places them over his heart. “Zion National Park has hikes you don’t need lottery permits to enjoy.”
“Can we go, too?” Brandon asks.
“See?” Dad’s trying to sound optimistic. “All the family can go. This will be better.”
I look over Dad’s shoulder. Watching as lucky number nine approaches. The party of one. She looks like she’s in college. Twenty-one maybe. She’s got her whole life ahead of her. She doesn’t need to take this hike. At least not today. I scoot around Mom and Dad and rush up to her.
“Excuse me, miss?”
She spins around. “Yes? Can I help you?”
She’s got a heavy German accent.
“My name is Indigo Phillips and that girl over there in the wheelchair—” I turn and point. Violet waves. “That’s my sister.”
The German girl smiles. “I can tell. Matching faces.”
“She’s terminally ill,” I explain.
“Oh?” The German girl seems a bit thrown off. “I’m...so sorry.”
“But God...or a voice that says it’s God...started talking to me when I was up on a roof about to kill myself.”
“Indigo, you said you were taking a photo!” Mom steps forward. “Kill yourself? You actually were trying to kill yourself?”
“I wasn’t...” I pause.
Now we’ve got everybody’s attention. The employees. The lotto winners. The room is silent. All eyes on us.
I could deny it. I should deny it. But instead I let my head fall forward, my shoulders slump and say so softly I wonder if anybody can even hear me, “I was thinking about it. Yeah.”
But at least Mom hears me. Because she steps forward, places a hand on my shoulder and with the other hand lifts my chin so that I’m staring into her eyes...which are red and welling with tears.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “Are you mad at me?”
She doesn’t really respond. She simply pulls me close and wraps her arms around me tight. It takes me a few seconds before I realize that my mom is hugging me. Like...we’re hugging. She lays her head on my shoulder and holds me tighter than she’s ever held me before. So I lay my head on her shoulder, too.
I’m not sure how long we stand this way. Hugging in the middle of the park ranger station, but we’re finally interrupted by a kind and sweet voice with a heavy German accent.
“You were saying? Sorry. But you were about to kill yourself
and then God or a voice started to talk to you?”
I look up. That’s right. I was trying to convince this girl to give us her permit so we can hike the Wave. So Violet can live. I look at Mom, who seems to be reading my mind. She wipes her eyes and nods her approval. I take a deep breath and turn back toward the girl.
“Right.” I wring my hands together nervously. “So this voice starts talking to me and tells me that if I could get my sister to the Wave, she’d live. So my whole family—” I point to everyone. They all wave timidly. “We came cross-country. And that man.” I turn and point to Pastor. He bows.
“Hello. Call me Jed.”
“That’s our pastor. He’s a former millionaire turned shaman. He drove us on a bus covered in eyeballs. If you don’t believe me, look out in the parking lot.”
“That’s your bus?” the woman from lucky number one asks. “We saw that coming in. We took pictures. Fascinating.”
“That’s us. Yeah.” I fall to my knees and fold my hands under my chin, looking pleadingly up at the girl. “You’re hiking alone. Maybe you can have mercy? Please, girl. I don’t even know your name.”
“Erika.”
“Please, Erika? If you give us your permit, one of the men in our party can come with us and help carry my sister when the trail elevates. She has a hiking chair but it can’t make the whole hike. She’ll have to be carried over some parts. I know we won too, but if we don’t get another permit, we can’t go. Since you’re going alone—”
“I’m not going alone.” The girl slides her backpack off her shoulders and sets it at her feet. She unzips the front section and removes a beautiful metal case with a star imprinted on the top. She kisses the case. “Inside this case is my mother.”
“Whoa,” Alfred says. “Did not see that one comin’.”
Erika continues. “It was her dream to hike the Wave. This was a planned trip, but I’m sorry to say, she did not make it in the flesh. I make the flight from Hildesheim alone. Been sleeping in Kanab for seven days. I enter the lottery every day since I arrive. Sleeping in cold RV. The heat breaks down. Tire breaks near Flagstaff. A homeless man steals my wallet, so I have to eat beef jerky for two days while I wait for money transfer to come through from my father in Osnabrück. I also get email message from landlord. My flatmate, she did not pay her half of rent, so we are evicted. I will have no home to return to and I have not showered since Sunday because the water is too damn cold on my rented RV. I come a long way to bring my mom here. I’m sorry about your sister. But I cannot give you my permit. It means too much to me.”
“And I thought we had it bad.” Alfred flips his cap backward.
Erika turns back to the table to retrieve her permit from the employee. I scope out the rest of the winners. They certainly look like they feel sorry for us, but nobody’s making a move to offer us their permits. Most are even avoiding eye contact. I can’t help but wonder what their stories are. How many of them went through similar hell to have their lucky number called? How many of them have the ashes of their dead parents stuffed in their backpacks?
I pick myself up off the floor and turn back to face my family. Violet’s got tears streaming down her face. “I’m sorry, sis. I tried.”
“It’s okay,” she whispers. “We all tried.”
The employee who facilitated the lottery looks at me. “Miss? Does this mean you’re giving up the two permits?”
I wipe away my tears. “Am I, Mom?”
“Indigo, I’m sorry.” Mom’s still crying. She wipes tears with the back of her hand. “I really am.”
“Then yes, sir.” I sob.
“You know,” he says. “Sometimes we have a lottery and there’s only one spot left. In that case, when the final number is called and it’s a party of two, we allow one additional hiker a permit, as we don’t like to encourage people to hike alone, though hiking alone certainly isn’t against the rules.” He nods in Erika’s direction. She smiles and nods back.
I seriously stop breathing. Why is he saying this? What is happening here?
He continues. “Looks like you got a serious case on your hands. Seeing as how you got a special situation with a disabled hiker, I’m gonna allow for one more permit.”
I take a breath at last. “No. You’re lying!”
“Telling the truth.” He smiles.
The winners in the room start cheering. Erika claps the loudest.
I rush to Violet and hold her tight. “We’re gonna make the hike, Vee. We’re gonna do it! You’re gonna live.”
“I’m...gonna live,” she cries.
“In addition,” the man continues, “I’m requesting one of the rangers to accompany you on the trail. When we get special guests, the Bureau of Land Management likes to treat them as such.”
My jaw drops. We are about to hike the Wave.
The Voice was right.
chapter eighteen
Barreling down the remote dirt road that leads to the Wave trailhead, I think back to the lecture on safety, rules and regulations given by the visitor center employee. It was actually quite brief and we were dismissed and sent on our way pretty quickly. But one thing stood out—a reminder that it’s winter. Which means there will be an early sunset. This means we can’t loiter at the Wave the way hikers do in the summer. We get there and we get back ASAP. I hope whatever sort of miracle we’re walking into doesn’t require us to linger.
Two rangers will meet us at the trailhead, where we’ll hand off our permits. And one will guide our hike to the Wave. I’m nearly jumping out of my jeans and hoodie. This is happening.
The drive to the Wire Pass Trailhead is supposed to be a little under an hour, but with Drew at the wheel, we’re minutes away. I’m gonna wager this is the first time this old dirt road has been raced across by a paratransit bus driving way over the speed limit.
Speaking of Drew. He’s taking the hike with Violet and me. He and Alfred played a rousing game of best two out of three paper-rock-scissors. They both wanted it bad. But rules are rules. Drew won fair and square. There was a bit of chatter at the visitor center about Drew and Alfred going, and maybe me staying behind. But Mom and Dad quickly agreed it would be absurd:
“Violet and Indigo are supposed to do this together,” Mom expressed vehemently. “Any other way would be unfair to the both of them. I don’t wanna hear another word about it.”
It made my chest swell with pride to have Mom vouch for me in such a way.
Glancing out the window, I’m surprised to see the billowy white clouds have taken a dark turn. I’m no meteorologist, but it looks as though they’re ready to burst forth some sort of precipitation.
“Can somebody check the forecast?” I ask as Drew speeds along the bumpy dirt road. The weather app on my phone is taking forever and a day to load. It’s searching and searching for service. There is nothing out this way. I don’t even see the critters they warned us about at the visitor center. This takes remote to a whole new level.
“No service on my phone,” Alfred calls out. “But if I were to make an educated guess, I’d say there was one hundred percent chance of snow.”
I look out the window. Sure enough, flurries of snow have started to fall. “Geez luss!”
Violet squeezes my hand. “We’ve come this far. Snow can’t stop us. Nothing can stop us now.”
I watch as a light dusting of snow begins to top the bushes in this remote desert. It’s beautiful, sure. Like the way you’d sprinkle powdered sugar over a holiday cookie at the end of a baking show on the Food Network. But doesn’t this mean it’s literally freezing outside? I start to shiver. The memories of being up on that icy scaffolding chill me to the bone.
The dirt road is forking—you can keep straight and I guess...drive over a cliff at some point? Or you can pull off into a parking lot. So thankfully that’s what Drew does. Though the parking lot is basically a random s
plattering of cars scattered on dirt and gravel. Two park rangers are climbing down from a dusty brown Jeep Wrangler as Drew pulls the bus up beside them.
“I can come with you guys,” Alfred offers. “They won’t mind. We’ll tell them they said it was okay at the visitor center. It’s not like they can call and check. There’s no service out this way.”
“These people have been good to us. We follow rules,” Dad states sternly. “Following rules keeps the world balanced.”
“Following rules also keeps you enrolled in school,” Mom adds. “You should try it.”
Alfred slumps down into his seat. “Fine. Never mind, then.”
Michelle’s standing over me. “Excuse me, Indigo. I need to switch out Vee’s oxygen and check her O2 sat.”
I happily stand, strapping on a hydration pack stocked with three liters of water, the amount recommended by the rangers.
“How you feeling?” Pastor Jedidiah asks, leaning up against his seat as I pull a wool headband over my ears.
“Piqued, overwrought, beside myself, in a tizzy.”
“Synonyms?”
“For excited. Yeah.” I slide on my gloves.
“I’m excited, too.” Pastor looks out the window. “My favorite thing about snowfall. The quiet. No other precipitation can fall so soundlessly.”
“You think it’ll be slick on the rocks?”
“Perhaps. But you’re wearing hiking boots and the all-terrain wheelchair’s got wheels for any weather condition.”
“Jesus.” Michelle gasps.
I spin around.
Michelle has rolled up Violet’s sweatpants. Her swollen legs are on display for all to see. Michelle’s eyes are wide with disbelief. “Violet, your legs.”
“It’s nothing, Michelle.” Violet yanks her pants back down. “Don’t make a big deal.”
The Voice in My Head Page 22