I’m not supposed to be asleep. That’s as much as I understand as I’m bundled into a thick overcoat and carried to our plastic sled in the front yard. There’s a lot of arguing, some swearing from me (it hurts every time they move me, and everyone keeps forgetting that), and Liam seems to be stuck on one phrase which he repeats over and over again, “Rain, don’t go to sleep. Please don’t go to sleep.” Apparently, Ethan came back from the shed, and, finding me passed out in my boyfriend’s arms, began screaming at him to wake me. Liam’s taking his job very seriously now.
They pad the sled and I’m laid down in it; Ethan grabs hold of the rope and pulls, while Dad and Liam push from behind. There’s an awful jolt as we begin to move, and I bite my lip to keep from crying out. The pain is tolerable as long as I keep absolutely still and don’t breathe too deeply. But as we head out, the sled tosses me from side to side, and it gets harder and harder to keep quiet.
My father seems to have reconciled himself to Ethan’s ridiculous plan (as he calls it) but that doesn’t stop him from grumbling every time the sled hits a bump or someone falls over in the snow. “It doesn’t make sense,” he says. “If she’s so sick, shouldn’t she be inside? It can’t be healthy to be out in this blizzard.”
Ethan stops responding to him after a while. I can see him straining against the weight of the sled, grunting as the twine cuts into his hands, ducking his head against the biting wind. Behind me, I hear them panting and groaning, I see them sigh as we round a corner and face a sharp incline. I feel so bad for them all, and I ask them to let me walk, at least the uphill part. But our progress is too painful and slow and we abandon the effort after a few excruciating steps.
Liam presses his lips to my cheek as he lowers me back into the sled. “Stay awake, okay, Rainey? Promise me you’ll stay awake.”
I promise him, and he smiles at me, and then my eyes close and he disappears.