Your Voice Was The Soundtrack Of My Summer

She was growing weaker with every passing moment, her weight melting away like wax left out in the summer sun. Two weeks since my birthday, and her signs of progress only pointed downward. She slept an hour more every night, her disturbed sleeps left her with ragged breath and uneasy turning. The food she was offered went untouched on her plate and she protested with her mother every time she was forced to eat. The blue and purple bags under her eyes deepened with each day, giving her once ethereal look more famished than before.

Her mom begged me to keep her strong, so I spent every moment she was conscious with her, urging her to walk with me on the beach or to sing songs with me as I played her favorite songs on Delilah. I kept her mind alive by playing board games with her and keeping her attentive to her surroundings. Indigo’s mom would thank me every night when I left her house, with Indigo sleeping soundlessly in the other room. There were bright tears in her eyes as she thanked me, her twinkling eyes identical to that of Indigo’s sky blue eyes.

It was only a matter of time before I had to give Indigo her medicine capsule, and I dreaded the day I had to give it to her.

It was a bright Tuesday morning when I ran up the doorsteps to her door. I knocked the door, when Mrs. Saunders opened the door.

“Paul, she’s still asleep, I can call if you if she wakes,” her face was blotchy and red, and dried tears crusted around her bloodshot eyes.

“No, it’s okay, I won’t wake her,” I assured her before sidestepping her into Indigo’s dark room. Even if it was twelve in the afternoon, the room was dark and the blinds were all pulled down, blocking out any light from outside. Her room smelled like disease, and I could see full bowls of soup untouched at her bedside accompanied with bottles of Gatorade and pills. I reluctantly looked at her face, her gaunt face pale with malnourishment. There was loose locks of hair scattered on her pillow, and with much pain I saw her head was chewed of her once beautiful hair.

She stirred in her sleep as I pulled open the blinds, as the sunshine sliced its way through the disease ridden room.

“Paul?” came a faint whisper from her bed.

I turned around to see her sleepy blue eyes look groggily at my direction.

“Go back to sleep, ssh, I’m sorry I woke you.”

“No, no I don’t want to. What are we going to do today? How’s the band? Lacey came to visit me yesterday,” she sat up in her bed, smoothing out her hair.

“Band’s fine, we’re fine. Lacey’s been coming to visit you a lot right?” I sat next to her on the wrinkled bed, unfazed by her weak appearance.

“Yes, she’s been great. I miss you guys already,” she looked up at me, her voice weak and brittle.

“Indigo, why are you weak all of a sudden? Weeks ago you were fine!” I finally asked, knowing how foolish and immature I sounded.

“Paul, I’ve always been weak, silly.”

“No, but now, now it shows.”

“My physical appearance is just catching up with how I really am inside. Come on, you know I already stopped wanting to eat months ago, you know that. You know I never talked as much as I used to.”

“Yeah, I guess I did.”

“So, what are we doing today?” she clasped her hands together in glee, a smile snaking out of her lips.

“We’re going to go scavenger hunting,” I told her, bundling her up in a large overcoat. Even if it was summer she was always shivering, her teeth clattering with chills.

“Scavenger hunting?” she repeated dubiously, but I pulled a hat over her pale head so it covered her tiny ears and pulled her along.

“Whatever it is, I’m not strong enough for it,” she protested, planting her feet firmly on the ground.

“It’s just a walk.”

“What are we gonna look for?” she sighed in exasperation, clinging on to my arm for support.

“You,” I emphasized. “Are looking for shells.”

She looked at me with contempt as I helped her outside onto the beach as the sun blared strong in our direction. Just this morning, before the sun even rose I was at her backyard, carefully placing the shells in dry sand, out of waters reach and at distances she would have to energy to walk to. All 30 messages were carefully folded in each conk shell, and I could spot at least two pock marked, blue shells as we stepped out onto the beach under the cloudless sky.

“Paul, there are hundreds of shells!” she looked at me with a raised eyebrow, but I picked up one of my conk shells from the sand and put it close to her face.

“These are what you’re looking for. Perfect conk shells,” I put the shell in her jacket pocket and she looked at me curiously as she bent over to search for more shells.

“Why do you need shells?” she asked bending over to pick another one.

“It’s a project, and I heard you can hear the ocean from them. So I’ll always be able to hear you when I’m far away,” I grinned.

“Okay. Remember what I said, what I wanted?”

“No, what?”

“About what will happen to me, when I’m gone.”

“Indigo, stop saying that.”

“Okay, fine. But you still remember right?”

“Of course. You want your ashes scattered all over the ocean.”

“Is that why you’re doing this?”

“Maybe. It’d be nice to hear you every time I put my ear to one of the shells.”

“I won’t leave you any time soon.”

“I know.”

“So you don’t have to put your ear to these any time soon,” she smiled at me, placing another shell into her pocket.

“How many do I have to get?” she asked as I led her carefully down the beach.

“As much as I tell you to.”

“Hey, look. This one has something has in-,” she stopped, kneeling to her knees and opening the slip of paper in the shell. After she read it, she looked at me, recognition clicking in her eyes.

“You, you. Why? You did, I can’t believe. How many are there?” she finally sputtered.

“Thirty.”

“Thirty? I only got like 8!”

“You have twenty two more to go.”

“I can’t believe you would, oh gosh, Paul, I love you.”

“I know. I love you too.”

“I don’t ever want to leave you ever.”

“I also know that.”

“Look, here’s another one!” she jubilantly cried, crouching over to pick out another shell.

“Don’t!” I stopped her before she could read the tiny note curled into the shell.

She looked at me with big eyes and put the shell in her pocket.

“You have to read one a day, okay?”

“Okay.”

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.” she added in a small voice. I kissed her on the cheek and she clutched my arm for support. As we scoured the beach for more of my shells, I felt her heart beat faintly on my arm and her frail limbs cling on to me. I cherished the moment, with all my heart.

It was one of the last times I would see her walk on the beach this summer.