Harvey Hippo's Arc

Chapter 1 of 3

Harvey Hippo stood outside the small green clinic with his front hooves pressed against his ears. The voices in his head were louder than the wind. Three of them argued about breakfast. One counted the flowers in the window boxes. The fifth voice, the new one, told him to push the veterinarian into the swamp behind the building. Harvey had been hearing voices since he was a calf. He had learned to nod through them, hum over them, walk faster than them. This new voice was different. It did not fade when he hummed. It waited. Inside, Valerie was writing in a folder at her desk. She wore blue scrubs and had a pen tucked behind one ear. She looked up when the bell rang. "Harvey. You're early." He tried to answer. The new voice told him to grab her wrist and drag her out the back door. His hoof twitched on the counter. He pulled it back and sat on his hands. "I need help," he said. "There's a voice. It wants me to hurt you." Valerie set the pen down. She did not move away. She studied his face for a long second. "How loud?" "Loud as you talking." "Louder than the others?" "Yes." She opened a drawer. She took out a smooth pale stone, worn soft at the edges, and a folded square of paper. "My grandma gave me this stone. Rub your thumb on it when the voice gets loud. The paper is a promise. Read it before you do anything the voice tells you." Harvey unfolded the paper. The handwriting was messy but the top line was clear. I will not obey the cruel voice. I will tell someone first. The new voice told him to throw the stone at her head. Harvey pressed his thumb into the worn groove instead. He read the promise out loud. His voice shook on the second word and steadied on the fourth. The cruel voice did not vanish. It got quieter, like someone shouting through a closed door. The other four voices kept counting flowers and arguing. Valerie watched him the whole time. When he finished reading, she said, "Again." He read it three more times. On the fourth, the shouting voice slid to the back of the room in his head. "It's still there," Harvey said. "I know," Valerie said. "But you didn't do what it said." She wrote something in her folder and turned it so he could see. New patient. Harvey Hippo. Condition: many voices, one dangerous. Treatment ongoing. "Come every morning," she said. "We'll teach the rest of them to listen to you instead." Harvey nodded. He kept his thumb on the stone. Outside, the wind pushed at the door. Inside, for the first time in years, one of the voices had obeyed him.