My Sister's Keeper

Chapter 55

55

THE TEMPERATURE INSIDE THE DRUM instantly began to rise and my claustrophobia drove me into a panic. Without air, we would suffocate in minutes. There was light coming through the opaque sides and I could see shadows moving around it as the drum tipped and fell on its side slamming us against the hard shell. My heart pounded so loudly I could hear it. A drum within a drum. Fear gripped me, its sharp spears ripping my senses. I pressed my knees against the lid and pushed. My muscles cramped, but nothing gave way.

Scott's shadow fell over the barrel and I could hear his clothes rubbing against it as we began to roll—the heavy container crunching the ground like shoes on soft rocks. "This is what you wanted, isn't it, Baimbridge?" he grunted. "You and Sydney together forever? Is that what you wanted, Baimbridge?"

The tank turned another revolution. My right arm was locked behind my back, and I could barely move my left. The temperature in the cylinder climbed rapidly and perspiration poured from me. "Please, Scott. Let her out! She's never done anything to you!"

"You don't know the first goddamned thing about Sydney and me!" His body rubbed the barrel as he lay against it, pushing with his feet, grunting, forcing it to roll in the soft dirt. Sydney's knees were crammed against her chest and my chin jabbed her shoulder. As we tumbled, Sydney rolled on top of me, moaned, and tried to move. We rolled again and I fell into her and I heard the air press from her lungs. Sweat burned my eyes.

"Richard?" she whispered near my ear. "I can't breathe."

I could hear my weight forcing the air out of her as we rolled. "I'm trying to keep my weight off of you."

"It's hot." She panted, then screamed. "Let us out! We can't breathe!"

Her cries pierced my ears and gave me strength. I tensed my body and swelled in size trying to burst the thick plastic container open like Superman, but I was not Superman.

Scott pounded his hand against the drum. "I love it!"

"Shhh. Try to relax," I whispered to Sydney as sweat rolled around my neck as the tank tumbled. "Take slow breaths." The light in the tank grew dimmer as it rolled away from the lantern until there was none. I forced my muscles to go limp and exhaled as her lungs expanded against me. When she exhaled, I inhaled. "We're going to have to take turns breathing."

"What's he doing? Why are we rolling?"

"He's going to drop us in the canal."

The barrel bumped something and tilted up at one end.

Sydney quivered. "What are we going to do?'

"He's just trying to scare us," I lied. I knew what was going to happen.

I felt her body quaking with silent sobs. "I'm sorry, Richard."

"For what?" I gasped.

"For getting you involved."

I panted. "You just gave me the best two weeks of my life." As the tank began to move again, it bumped every few inches and I knew we were on that short pier. As it hit each plank, it pounded us against each other, knocking the last of the air from our lungs. With every bump a new image flashed through my mind. Martha and I lying on a hill picking out rabbits and foxes and elephants in summer clouds. Dad on a tirade, his fingernails cutting into my jaw as he screamed and spit into my face. Martha fading away in that hospital bed while nurses worked to pull her back. Sydney laying naked against my back in the shower her arms moving over my chest and abdomen.

Our bodies were slick with perspiration, our breathing accelerating, gasping at the thin traces of oxygen left in the air. I could feel my heart pounding throughout my body. Tears spilled down my cheeks then back up into my eyes as the cylinder came to rest with me upside down.