Still Alive Page 3

  Chapter 3 – So Far Away and So Near

  Melody focused on the warmth pulsing in her stomach as the steady beep of the cardiograph filled the silence in Aria’s room. It had been a week since her sister survived her first night in the ICU. The doctors were just as baffled by her continued survival as they had been on the first night. Each time they removed the bandages that covered every inch of her body to apply new ones, a little more of her tissue had grown back. Her brain, on the other hand, had continued to indicate a vegetative state.

  Melody would have despaired, if not for the continuing connection she had always felt to her twin sister. That warmth in her stomach had always indicated her sister was safe, and she wasn’t going to question it now. Somewhere, her sister’s consciousness still retained a connection to this body.

  Melody opened her eyes as her mother entered the room and sat next to her on the small love seat. Her mother had always had a slim figure, but now she almost looked emaciated. It was almost a full time job making sure she ate regularly. She wished her mother could feel the same connection to Aria that she could. The constant talk from the neurologists about Aria having no chance of recovering was taking its toll on her mother.

  “The neurologists are going to come and collect all of their fancy equipment in a minute,” her mother informed her dully. “They’re convinced there’s no hope of her brain recovering.”

  “She’ll recover,” Melody told her confidently.

  Her mother just nodded. They had been through this conversation several times over the last couple of days. The two of them hadn’t been home since the incident. Ms. Olson and Rhapsody had been bringing them changes of clothes and toiletries. The reporters had finally given up on interviewing her and her mom as the story grew older and the doctors refused to talk about their patients.

  Several men in white coats came into the room, moving toward the equipment monitoring Aria’s brain activity. Melody leaped to her feet, with anger flashing in her eyes.

  “Get out!” Melody demanded hotly. “How dare you come in here without masks? Do you have any idea how susceptible she is to infection right now?”

  The older men looked at her in irritation before complying. She heard one of them muttering under his breath as they went back out the door.

  “The girl’s a vegetable,” the gray-haired man grumbled. “They’re just wasting valuable space for someone who’s never going to wake up.”

  Melody felt her blood boil in fury as she took a step toward the door to give them a piece of her mind. She froze in place as the sound of her sister’s voice began a haunting melody. She spun around and stared in shock as her sister’s heavily bandaged face moved slightly as she sang.

  The neurologists returned with facemasks donned, staring in utter astonishment as Aria sang. It wasn’t quite the same voice that Melody had known all of her life. Enough of her original timbre remained to be recognizable, but the sound coming out of her sister was transcendental in its purity. Angels would have wept at the inhuman beauty in that voice.

  Melody stood and stared with tears in her eyes as she listened to the words in her sister’s song.

  So Far Away and So Near

  On this night the pale moon flies

  through the endless starry skies

  So hold me close

  feel the rhythm of my heart, echoing far

  Take my hand

  Lead me where to souls could soar

  Oh, so far away and so near

  I have seen your eyes before

  in another life I lived

  In innocence

  I imagined you could fly close to the stars

  Here I am

  waiting for the moon to rise

  Oh, so far away and so near

  I have felt eternity

  in another life I lived

  On feathered wings

  chase my spirit far and wide, ageless and free

  Take me there

  always towards that place of peace

  Oh, so far away and so near

  As the last notes of her song faded, the neurologists rushed over to their instruments and began feverishly studying the displays.

  “This is impossible!” the oldest looking one said in astonishment. “There’s absolutely no brain activity going on.”

  “Who was singing in here?” a nurse asked from the door, with tears in her eyes. “I’ve never heard anything so beautiful in my life!”

  “Aria was singing,” Melody told her thickly, through her own tears.

  “This isn’t possible,” one of the other neurologists muttered disbelievingly. “A person cannot sing without a brain and this girl’s brain is dead.”

  A small crowd was gathering around the door, looking for the source of such beautiful sound. Word quickly spread that a coma patient was singing, while remaining completely unresponsive. Melody stood guard at the door, making sure that anyone who entered was wearing a mask.

  “What’s going on?” Rhapsody’s voice asked anxiously from somewhere behind the group of people blocking the door. “Is Aria okay?”

  “Come on people, make room,” Melody started pushing people back so that Rhapsody could enter the room.

  “What’s all of the excitement about?” Rhapsody asked when she saw the look of delight on Melody’s face. “Is Aria awake?”

  “Not exactly,” Melody replied with a broad grin. “She just sung the most beautiful song this world has ever heard, though.”

  “Someone is setting up some kind of hoax,” one of the neurologists finally declared with a frown. “There must be some kind of sound equipment embedded here. A vegetable can’t sing.”

  Before anyone could say anything, the bandages around Aria’s mouth began moving again as a melody just as beautiful as the first began emanating through the bandages. The words were incomprehensible, but the melody and sound of her voice was unearthly in its beauty.

  The growing crowd stood in absolute silence as Aria’s voice carried out clearly through the doors, audible to everyone in that wing of the hospital. The neurologists began double-checking all of the connections on their equipment as Aria’s angelic voice continued speaking in an unknown language.

  “The equipment must have a glitch,” one of the neurologists said when Aria’s song ended.

  “We have five separate devices connected to her head,” one of his colleagues disagreed. “There’s no way all five of them are malfunctioning.”

  “That’s the only possible explanation,” the first one insisted. “A person cannot sing without brain function.”

  “Fine, hook the electrodes up to me and let’s test the equipment,” his colleague suggested.

  The crowd watched silently as the neurologists connected a set of electrodes to themselves. As soon as the electrodes were attached, the displays began showing color distortions. They disconnected the electrodes from their own heads and reconnected a new set to Aria. The display remained empty.

  “The equipment appears to be working fine,” Harmony declared with a cold smile. “It appears that it is your understanding of consciousness that is in error here. My daughter is no vegetable.”

  “She’s just spouting gibberish,” the older neurologist declared firmly. “This is probably just some kind of muscle-memory response.”

  “You heard the first song,” her mother disagreed even more firmly. “That was perfect English. I have no idea what language she was just singing in, but I have no doubt it was something more than gibberish.”

  “That’s not exactly something you can test,” the neurologist retorted, looking distinctly irritated.

  “Of course we can test it,” her mother replied, holding up her phone. “I recorded the whole thing. We’ll just need a linguistic specialist to confirm whether this is an actual language or not.”

  The neurologist looked like he wanted to argue the point further, but before he could reply Aria began singing again. The language was similarly unfamiliar. Melody felt like millions
of small strings were pulling on her chest as the beauty of her sister’s voice stirred feelings of wonder and awe so intense that it left her breathless. How could anything sound so beautiful? A whole new generation of poets would be able to find an endless source of inspiration from the sublime notes echoing around the room. As she listened to her sister’s song, she remembered watching Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz transition from a black and white world into a new land so vibrant with color that it forever changed her perception of reality. She had never imagined sound as a living entity before, but she couldn’t think of a better way to describe the notes caressing her mind with blissful wonder.

  The rest of the day continued in a state of surreal wonder as Aria began new melodies at varying intervals. The crowd outside the door had begun recording and uploading Aria’s mysterious songs before the hospital staff noticed and chased them out. By the end of the day, the media vultures had returned, seeking access to Aria’s room.

  Melody found herself cornered by several reporters as she fetched some food for her mother from the cafeteria. They surrounded her like a pack of hyenas and started rapid firing questions as she tried to reach the salad bar.

  “Is it true that your sister is still in a coma, even though she is singing?” one of the men asked as he shoved a microphone under her nose.

  “Were you aware that the uploads of your sister’s songs have been viewed over fifty million times already?” another reporter asked.

  “Has your sister sung any songs in English?” a third reporter asked, obnoxiously shoving his microphone into her face.

  Melody kept trying to push through them to get to the food cart, but they pushed right back. With a growl of irritation, Melody snatched the mic out of her face and stared right into one of the cameras as she spoke.

  “Yes, she sang a whole song in English,” Melody growled. “Something about a special place in Hell being reserved for assholes like you. Now get out of my way! I have a mother who requires sustenance. Go back to your coven or wherever it is that you bloodsuckers go when you’re not trying to ruin people’s lives.”

  Her outburst had the desired effect. The reporters blinked in surprise, allowing her to push through. She ignored their snide comments as she loaded up a tray of food and walked back toward the elevator. She glared so fiercely at several other reporters who began moving toward her that they paused long enough for her to get into the elevator and move back up to the ICU.

  “Are you okay?” Rhapsody asked in concern as she saw the look on her face.

  “Did I ever mention how glad I am that you aren’t a traditional reporter?” Melody asked wryly.

  “A few times, yes,” Rhapsody replied with a pleased smile. “Did you get accosted in the cafeteria?”

  “Yeah, but I gave as good as I got,” Melody said with an impish grin. “I’m sure they’ll have all sorts of fun smearing my personality after today.”

  “Not if I can help it,” Rhapsody declared firmly. “I’ve been writing a story about everything that’s happened this past week, but I didn’t want to bring it up until things calmed down for you and your mother. I want the world to see you as people, rather than some kind of entertainment spectacle.”

  “Funny you should mention that,” Melody said as they made their way back to Aria’s room. “I was just telling my mom that I want to give you an exclusive interview on Aria’s life before the attack. I can only imagine the nonsense they are saying online about her right now.”

  “Not much,” Rhapsody assured her. “Without any extended family to contact and nobody at your school knowing very much about Aria, the media hasn’t been able to say very much. All they’ve been able to report is that she gets good grades and is very quiet. Your mother was very thorough at hiding the true nature of your births. They’ve been looking for who your father is without any success. They’ve made some educated guesses about the nature of your conception, but there are no police records or newspapers about the incident.”

  “My mom never told us who he was,” Melody admitted quietly. “I think she is the only person who knows who he is. She refused to cooperate with the police after she got out of the hospital. She spent a few months in a mental institution on suicide watch after several attempts at taking her own life, before we were born.”

  “I’m so sorry, Melody,” Rhapsody whispered in dismay.

  “She stopped trying to kill herself when she started to feel us kicking around in her uterus,” Melody said with a sad smile. “She’s said on a number of occasions that she would go through it all over again, if it meant having us as her daughters.”

  “Your mom is absolutely amazing,” Rhapsody told her warmly. “I keep waiting for her to snap, but she seems to have an endless reserve of hidden strength. I can’t even imagine what she must be going through right now.”

  “I wish I could relive the past six months,” Melody murmured reflectively. “I treated both of them so badly after she told us about the man who sired us. If Aria hadn’t been there for me, I would probably be in a juvenile detention center right now.”

  Her mother smiled as they entered the room. There were several doctors playing with the equipment attached to Aria. It was strange to think her sister was the person underneath all of those bandages. She had not been able to make herself stay in the room during the times the nurses changed Aria’s bandages; the thought of seeing fiery red burn scars where her sister’s beautiful skin once existed was just too much.

  “Any new songs while I was away?” Melody asked as she watched the doctors work.

  “Just a very short one,” her mother replied with an adoring smile. “I should have believed you when you said she would be back.”

  “I wonder how long it will be until she wakes up,” Melody said thoughtfully. “Do you think she’ll remember any of these songs?”

  “I hope so,” her mother replied softly.

  “That would be too cool if she remembered what the words meant,” Melody said wistfully. “I wonder if she’s telling us about the places she’s visiting.”

  “That’s an interesting idea,” Rhapsody said in fascination. “To date, people who have claimed awareness during near death experiences have had no way to provide any evidence for what they experienced. If she woke up and was able to translate the words of her songs, it would lend a lot more credence to the possibility of consciousness residing outside of the body.”

  Melody looked over at one of the neurologists after hearing a derisive snort. He was the one who had insisted on the honorary ‘doctor’ before his name after she had addressed him as Mr. Fox. She had made a point of only calling him Mr. Fox after that.

  “Did you have any new theories that could explain Aria’s behavior better than non-localized consciousness?” Rhapsody asked him coolly.

  Dr. Fox’s silence spoke volumes.

  “I thought not,” Rhapsody said dismissively. “Muscle memory indeed.”

  “What would a teenage reporter know about consciousness,” Dr. Fox sneered. “Let me guess; you read an article on the internet about NDE’s and now you are an expert on neurobiology.”

  Melody blinked in surprise. Teenage reporter? Just how old is Rhapsody, anyway? How could she get a job as a reporter if she’s just a teenager?

  “I’ll have you know, I won’t be a teenager after tomorrow,” Rhapsody told him dryly. “I’m sure my intellect will begin declining rapidly after that, if your own fossilized state of mind is any indicator. Let me guess; you read a book fifty years ago that claimed consciousness resides in the cerebral cortex and now anything that questions that assertion is not worthy of consideration?”

  “There is nothing mysterious about consciousness,” Dr. Fox told her coldly. “It is just a complex array of chemical processes in the brain that are triggered by external stimuli through the body’s five senses. Action, reaction; nothing more.”

  “You could say the same thing about a drone piloted by our military, if you didn’t know it was remotely operated by a
n intelligent entity that was wirelessly controlling it,” Rhapsody countered. “It has cameras and other sensors that feed input back to a central processing unit before that information is transmitted back to the pilot. Without any kind of understanding of wireless technology, a person from the last century would probably assume that the drone was a self-contained conscious entity as well. However, with your towering intellect, you would understand that even though the drone can operate on autopilot if it loses contact with the human pilot, it still requires a wireless connection to make any intelligent decisions. Without the pilot, it is just a vegetable, as you put it, with no higher functioning cognitive abilities.”

  “Comparing electrical circuitry to molecular biology is like comparing sundials to supercomputers,” Dr. Fox growled, his voice getting louder as his irritation grew. “Your analogy has no relevance in serious discussion. There is a mountain of evidence that proves consciousness resides in the brain, while there is zero credible evidence to suggest the possibility of it residing outside of the body.”

  “Zero credible evidence?” Rhapsody raised an eyebrow with just a hint of smile. “What would you call that?”

  Dr. Fox looked at Aria dismissively. “Certainly not evidence of nonlocal consciousness.”

  “It’s almost like talking to a child,” Rhapsody said with an indulgent smile. “You could be staring at a blue sky and trying to convince everyone else it is red because you saw a sunset once. Try opening your eyes to what is right in front of you. You’ve got the opportunity of a lifetime here to be the pioneering scientist on the frontiers of consciousness and you’re so busy refusing to even look at the possibilities that it is going to pass you by.”

  “I don’t have time for this nonsense,” Dr. Fox grunted, picking up his bag and leaving.

  “You seem quite knowledgeable for a twenty-year-old reporter,” Dr. Lorenzo noted as he studied Rhapsody curiously. “What are you majoring in?”

  “I graduated last year from Cornel with a master’s in Microbiology,” Rhapsody told him with a small smile. “I am currently majoring in Communications and minoring in Journalism. My work at the burn center was part of my internship with Channel 5.”

  “So you are barely twenty years old and you already have one master’s degree and are working on a second?” Dr. Lorenzo asked in amazement.

  “I have an eidetic memory,” Rhapsody replied with self-deprecating shrug. “I graduated high-school at age twelve and started taking college courses.”

  “Eidetic memory has been disproven in adults,” Dr. Lorenzo said doubtfully.

  “Ask me for anyone’s phone number or address,” Rhapsody suggested challengingly.

  “In Seattle?” Dr. Lorenzo asked.

  “In North America,” Rhapsody replied.

  Dr. Lorenzo was quiet for a moment as he watched her thoughtfully. “Okay. Gullen McGrevor.”

  “There are fourteen people with that name in North America,” Rhapsody replied promptly. “Which state or province?”

  “Arkansas,” Dr. Lorenzo answered.

  “435.684.3083. 4055 Highway 276, Little Rock, Arkansas,” Rhapsody replied immediately.

  “Eileen Gammet,” Dr. Lorenzo fired off.

  “775.530.6119. 800 Ski Run Blvd., Suite 201, South Lake Tahoe, CA,” Rhapsody answered without hesitation.

  “Amazing,” Dr. Lorenzo said in awe. “There’s only been one scientifically proven case of eidetic memory in an adult and it was later cast into doubt.”

  “I know,” Rhapsody replied with a half-smile. “I could recite the case study and conclusions verbatim, if you like.”

  “This room is just full of unusual individuals,” Dr. Lorenzo said with a glance at Aria. “I would love to spend some time doing some case studies on your ability once this project is finished, if you would be willing.”

  “Perhaps,” Rhapsody replied noncommittally.

  “I’ll have to think about what you said to my colleague,” Dr. Lorenzo said pensively. “I can understand his hesitation in looking at the possibility of nonlocal consciousness. In our field, it is considered fringe science and is a quick way to ruin your reputation.”

  “Change is rarely easy,” Rhapsody agreed. “It is going to be difficult to make the case for something so taboo, but I think Aria might just be the catalyst that makes it possible.”

  After Dr. Lorenzo left, Melody looked at Rhapsody with a raised eyebrow. “So tomorrow’s your birthday?”

  “Two decades old,” Rhapsody grinned. “Sometimes I feel a lot older with all of the useless information rattling around in my head.”

  “You’re saving hundreds of trees with that memory,” Melody told her with a grin of her own. “I would hardly call that useless information.”

  “Have you always had an eidetic memory?” her mother asked curiously.

  “No,” Rhapsody answered with a shake of her head. “I fell out of a tree and landed on my butt when I was eight years old. The impact caused my spine to jolt my brainstem, resulting in damage to my neocortex. I had seizures for a couple of days afterward, but they eventually stopped. When the seizures went away my memory stopped putting limits on what I could remember. It can be very annoying sometimes.”

  “Annoying?” Melody asked in surprise. “How so?”

  “I can’t ever get my mind to stop processing data,” Rhapsody rolled her eyes. “A simple glance around a room will commit every minute detail to memory permanently. I have a hard time making my mind settle down enough to sleep or just carry on a normal conversation. I’ve learned several tricks over the years to mute it to the background, but it takes constant concentration to keep myself from continuously analyzing everything I see.”

  Everyone grew quiet as Aria began singing another song. One of the nurses checking the bandages around her eyes gasped loudly, unconsciously clasping her gloved hand to her masked mouth.

  “What’s the matter?” her mother asked in alarm, rising quickly.

  “She’s crying…” the nurse said slowly.

  “I thought her tear ducts were destroyed?” Rhapsody asked in surprise.

  “They were,” the nurse replied in wonder. The nurse reached down and gently removed the bandages covering the rest of her eyes. She let out another gasp. “Her eyelids have grown back.”

  “What?” Melody rushed forward to see a pair of dark-pigmented eyelids closed over her sister’s eyes.

  The nurse gently nudged one of the eyelids up to reveal a completely formed eye. The iris was a milky white color.

  Her mother’s hand trembled as she reached out and gently brushed Aria’s tears away. “Oh my baby, I’m here.”

  “So far away and so near,” Melody whispered in sudden understanding. “She knows we’re here.”