—
A FEW DAYS AFTER the crash, my neck froze.
I awoke one morning and it wouldn’t move. It didn’t hurt, not at
first, but no matter how hard I concentrated on turning my head, it
wouldn’t give more than an inch. The paralysis spread lower, until it
felt like I had a metal rod running the length of my back and into my
skull. When I couldn’t bend forward or turn my head, the soreness set
in. I had a constant, crippling headache, and I couldn’t stand without
holding on to something.
Mother called an energy specialist named Rosie. I was lying on my
bed, where I’d been for two weeks, when she appeared in the doorway,
wavy and distorted, as if I were looking at her through a pool of water.
Her voice was high in pitch, cheerful. It told me to imagine myself,
whole and healthy, protected by a white bubble. Inside the bubble I
was to place all the objects I loved, all the colors that made me feel at
peace. I envisioned the bubble; I imagined myself at its center, able to
stand, to run. Behind me was a Mormon temple, and Kamikaze, Luke’s
old goat, long dead. A green glow lighted everything.
“Imagine the bubble for a few hours every day,” she said, “and you
will heal.” She patted my arm and I heard the door close behind her.
I imagined the bubble every morning, afternoon and night, but my
neck remained immobile. Slowly, over the course of a month, I got
used to the headaches. I learned how to stand, then how to walk. I used
my eyes to stay upright; if I closed them even for a moment, the world
would shift and I would fall. I went back to work—to Randy’s and
occasionally to the junkyard. And every night I fell asleep imagining
that green bubble.
—DURING THE MONTH I was in bed I heard another voice. I remembered it
but it was no longer familiar to me. It had been six years since that
impish laugh had echoed down the hall.
It belonged to my brother Shawn, who’d quarreled with my father at
seventeen and run off to work odd jobs, mostly trucking and welding.
He’d come home because Dad had asked for his help. From my bed, I’d
heard Shawn say that he would only stay until Dad could put together a
real crew. This was just a favor, he said, until Dad could get back on his