Primum non nocere

It should have been the least terrifying part of the whole ordeal, and yet I drive as fast as I dare through the night. The fear grips my heart while something else, a presence I don't want to acknowledge, follows closely. I can feel it behind me, a brooding heaviness like the air before a thunderstorm. So I drive eastward toward the sun and hardly stop.

Dark forest borders this stretch of highway. At first it felt private -- a good hideaway. But as I drive and twilight sets in, the trees throw long shadows in my way and seem to lean over the road, threatening to fall and crush my car and me within it. I push my foot down on the gas pedal and urge the car faster, even though I have no hope of making it to my destination tonight. I'm in for a long trip.

The sight of a rusted car parked at the side of the highway brings me back to this same place fifteen years ago. We sat in the backseat of our father's Camry, giggling at silly jokes we made up on the spot. Every so often my father called out topics for us to debate. "Okay, girls: which superhero would you like to be?"

"Superman," my sister said with no hesitation. "Because he's invincible."

Although my memory of this time has begun to fray at the edges, I can still picture Katie at that moment. The bones protruding from her wrist, a fuzz of hair covering her head like moss on a rock. I loved to rub my hand over her head, feeling the furriness of her head and the ridges of bone underneath. She would bat my hand away and say that she wasn't some pet, but then she would smile at me to show that she wasn't mad. Her smile was the only thing that did not change. It was perfect, filled with confidence, innocence, and a dash of mischief. A playful smile. I tried to make it happen as much as possible.

"Nu-uh", I said. "Haven't you heard of kryptonite, stupid?"

"Names, Diana," said my mother.

"Yeah." Katie grinned again, pleased at the reprimand. "Put up or shut up."

Where had she heard that saying? I glared at her like only a teenager could, with eyes half-closed and mouth set in disdain. "I'd be Spiderman. He had something to fight for. He didn't mean to become a hero, but he did it because, 'With great power there must also come great responsibility.'" I paused to allow my family the time to be impressed with my memorization skills. "I really like that line."

Katie chortled. "The tortured hero. But even with all the bad stuff that went on in his life, Peter Parker still did his best to help those in need. That's what makes a true hero: the ability to put others before you."

Either I fell asleep after this conversation or time's bleached out the rest of the car trip, because I can't remember anything else until we came to the lake. It rippled in the light summer breeze and threw sparks into my eyes from the sun. Although I saw a few boats, no one was swimming. I was reminded of my mother's warning not to swim in the water; the pollution from a plant a few kilometres away had made it too dirty to drink. But it looked so beautiful anyway. I longed to get out of the car and stretch my legs on the shoreline.

I was still staring behind me when we pulled up into the drop-off area. I heard the wails of an ambulance coming back with some other poor victim. My sister and mother exited the car, Katie clutching her stuffed owl. She turned back briefly to wave at me, her lips quirking up at the corners into a sad smile. My own face felt frozen; I could only wave back limply. My father rolled down the window and promised my mother to return as soon as possible.

We sat in silence as my father drove over to the hotel and checked me in. He gave me a quick hug after seeing me safely to our room and then rushed off, not even stopping long enough to help me drag in all our luggage. I sighed and looked at the two sagging double beds, the aged entertainment centre, and the stained carpet pattered with fleur-de-lis. Sadly, it was no worse than some of the other places we'd been forced to stay in over the last few months. I flopped down on the bed and napped through the beginning of my summer vacation.