Her Last Memory

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Her Last Memory Page 31

by C. A. Wittman

Serene pulled her hand from his grasp and pushed back her chair, rising to her feet. He stared up at her. “I’ll stay in touch,” she managed to say.

  The smile fell from Darpan’s lips. “I didn’t murder Taylor.”

  “No. You didn’t,” she agreed.

  “Then who?”

  “That person, I still need to talk to.”

  His finger rose to his bottom lip and touched the crease, then he gave a slight nod.

  “I’ll write you and we can set up another meeting,” Serene said. “But there’s something you should know. I…” She couldn’t bring herself to say it, to tell him about the part of her that was broken. How there was a whole separate person living inside herself. It had been Dora who contacted him, though, gone through all the steps and arranged the date for the meeting. Perhaps, if she came back, she would know Serene had seen him and she’d follow through. Darpan watched her expectantly.

  “I might be delayed in getting back with you,” Serene said. “It doesn’t mean that I forgot, or I won’t help.”

  He held his hands up in prayer and bowed his head. “Thank you.”

  * * *

  Serene was back home by six that evening.

  “Hey, where did you get off to today?” Erica said, encircling her arms around Serene’s waist, pulling her in for a kiss. Serene closed her eyes and let Erica’s lips press down gently on her own, their breasts squashed together. The house smelled of garlic, Cuppa cooking dinner.

  “Mom, come look at the birdhouse me and Erica bought today,” Jesse called out excitedly, giving Serene an excuse to extricate herself from her wife’s arms.

  Erica followed on Serene’s heels. “We went to the gardening store. I got the seed packets you wanted.”

  “Thanks,” Serene said, trying to appear friendly, easygoing, but the thanks came out dull and flat, even to her own ears.

  Erica touched her arm. “You okay? You don’t seem like yourself lately.”

  They were heading out to the yard and Jesse had run ahead. He turned to wave excitedly, the sides of his hair pulled back in barrettes. Why did he have barrettes in his hair? Serene wondered vaguely, glad for the excuse that her son was rushing her along so that she didn’t have to answer Erica’s question. Jesse skipped across the yard and to a birdhouse that hung from the willow tree. Standing next to the tree was Mara, her face flushed red and closed up like a fist. Mara? What was she doing here? In fact, the yard had oddly expanded and Serene found herself standing near a precipice, thick layers of fog obscuring the plunging depths below.

  “Mara, why are you here?” Serene sucked in her breath. This wasn’t her yard. She was out in the country somewhere. Behind Mara was a driveway and a large house perched over a plunging cliff.

  “Why am I here?” Mara yelled. “Oh, that’s ripe, Dora.”

  Dora.

  Serene reached out a hand to place on Mara’s shoulder, calm the enraged woman. What had Dora done?

  "Don't touch me!"

  Mara's hand flew out, the palm striking Serene in the chest, knocking her off balance, and then, to her horror, she was stumbling back, losing her footing at the edge of the drop-off. She reached out her hands, grabbing at air, Mara's face a mask of terror. Serene fell back. For one sickening moment, she thought her life was over as she felt herself falling into open nothingness. Something rough and springy broke the fall. It was the sturdy bough of a tree growing out of the cliffside. Serene bounced off it, falling onto a narrow rocky ridge. Stunned, she looked up at the stubby bushes jutting out from the wall of rocky earth. Mara stood at the top of the cliff, her hand clamped over her mouth. Adrenaline surged through Serene's system. She hadn't fallen that far. The ridge was only three feet down, the bough almost level with the grassy plateau. Serene grabbed hold of the branch and pulled herself up, using all her core muscles to transfer strength to her upper body. It was the hardest pull up she'd ever done in her life. Gasping, she managed to hook one leg around the branch and swing herself up before inching her way toward the base of the branch and the lip of the cliff.

  "Mara, help me," she called out, but Mara stood immobilized, hand still on her mouth. Incredibly, there were other branches to grab. Serene’s feet scrambled against the earthy bedrock, finding solid footholds to leverage herself. And with relief, she hooked one shoulder onto the plateau and then the other, dangling from her armpits.

  "Mara!" She screamed, trying to snap the woman out of her shock. Mara’s face was losing shape. Sinking away and then coming back into focus.

  What the hell was going on?

  "Mara," Serene yelled, making another attempt at heaving herself up. Her arms shook with fatigue, but now she was chest level, pulling herself forward with her elbows, "Fucking help me!"

  Mara shook her head no, and then raised her leg, bringing her booted foot crashing down on Serene's arm. The pain exploded through her body, followed by a staticky fear. A surge of adrenaline shot through her tired muscles, forcing the last bit of power she needed to pull herself up to hip-level. Mara's foot came at her face and Serene grabbed her ankle, giving a sharp, hard tug that sent Mara toppling forward and diving over her head. Serene shut her eyes, forcing back a sob at the grisly sound of Mara's body crashing through the foliage. With the last bit of effort she had left, she brought the rest of her body onto the grassy bank and then rested on her hands and knees, trembling out her exertion and the terror she'd just faced. It was minutes before she allowed herself to look down, but Mara was gone. Her body had disappeared entirely. Shakily, Serene rose to her feet, stumbling to the house, holding her swelling arm.

  By the time Serene made it to the giant house on the cliff, Dora had taken over. She stood dazed before going to the sink to wash her hands. As if on autopilot, she dumped the coffee grounds from the French press down the garbage disposal, washed it and wiped it down with the rag from the floor. She washed her cup, wiped it down and put it away. She wiped down everything as best she could, the counters, the stool, the door handles in all the rooms and the handle of the front door, and then she got into her car and drove away.

  58

  Dora January 2020

  * * *

  Dora pulled into her driveway, got out of her car, walked into her house and stripped out of the dirt-streaked clothes, her shirt ripped. In the shower, Dora scrubbed away all the grime from her body, washed and conditioned her hair, arm throbbing all the while. Somehow she'd hurt her arm when Serene fell off the cliff at Mara's. Dora closed her eyes, letting the water from the shower head needle her scalp. She could still feel that terrifying sensation of falling into nothing, still see the terror on Mara's face. But what happened after? Dora examined her clothes when she got out of the shower. The shirt was ruined. She got dressed, placed the pants in the hamper and threw the top in the garbage outside. She picked up her cell phone to call Mara but couldn't bring herself to do it. Mara had pushed Serene. She didn't mean to, Dora knew. But she'd almost lost her life. Mara should be calling her, not the other way around.

  The kids were at school and Cuppa had left in the morning to meet a client. Who Dora really wanted to talk to was Erica, but Erica was on their way to Paris. She could feel the shift happening inside her, a stretching and unfolding, Serene returning. Hot panic shot through Dora's system. She had to stay in charge. Dora got back into her car and headed for Hollywood, headed for the Walk of Fame and Lucille Ball's star. Lucille Ball, who had waved at Ramani when she was a little girl. It was the star Dora had stood on seven years ago when she knew she was the one to live this life, not Serene.

  By the time Dora arrived in Hollywood, rushing down the boulevard, her essence dissipating with every step, Serene was already taking shape.

  Hollywood.

  Yes.

  She was in Hollywood, and that was all Serene knew.

  59

  Steve - March 2020

  * * *

  "Steve!"

  Steve looked over his shoulder at Carrie, waving him toward her.

  "Ju
st a minute," he said, adjusting his earbud.

  "Are you listening to me?" Tera's voice rose, sharp and impatient in his ear.

  "It's my sister. We're at the hospital. I told you."

  "I'm moving out," Tera said.

  He didn't reply. There was nothing he could say that would make any of this better.

  "You're scum. You know that?" She hissed and hung up. He took a breath. Steve had never cheated on anyone in his life. He was scum, he decided, grimacing at the memory of waking up in all that dried blood like some revolting creature. He didn't need to massage Serene that night. Did he really think it was going to be an innocent shoulder rub? Was he really trying to help her or just seduce her? Was that his motive?

  "Steve!" Carrie yelled again, waving him over for a second time. Her face shone with excitement, drawing out a curiosity that overrode his self-disgust. He walked over to his sister.

  "You're bizarrely overjoyed," he said. "What's going on?"

  "It's Dora. Her memories. She's remembering."

  "What?"

  "It just happened when I started talking about Mara."

  "Oh." Steve's heart sank. He felt terrible, of course, that Mara was missing, but on the other hand he'd never liked her, not when she was Julie, vapid and unoriginal, soaking up the narcissistic rays of Taylor's sunny attention, nor when she changed her name to Mara and was suddenly Dora's best friend. Steve never understood their friendship. Mara embodied all of the shallow characteristics of the definitive superficial LA woman. And, although Dora had turned her eye to fashion and growing a social media platform, she still maintained a depth and level of awareness that Steve felt Mara could never cultivate, no matter how much she tried to emulate empathy through donating money to an organization for women who suffered domestic abuse. He wondered if the part of Dora who was Serene would go away now.

  Serene stepped outside of the ER waiting room just as that thought popped into his head. When she saw Steve, she walked up to him and took his hands. He could feel a pulse start up in his neck as her grasp grew firmer.

  "Something's happening to me," she said.

  * * *

  Carrie told them that they should go and talk, she'd stay behind with Mom and Dad. As Steve drove to his house with Serene beside him, she'd remained silent, staring pensively ahead of her. When he asked her if she wanted to talk, she'd turned slowly to look at him and, after several seconds, said, "I will." But once he got back to the house, he saw Tera's land cruiser parked out front. As he made to back up, the front door opened and Tera stepped out, squinting back at them over his headlights.

  He rolled down his window.

  "I'll be back." He called out to her.

  Tera's eyes shifted to Serene and her face closed down altogether. She went back inside, slamming the door. Steve sighed. As much as he regretted his treatment of Tera, the part of him connected to Serene was almost membranal. To cut her away would be like slicing into himself. He drove down to the beach and parked.

  "Want to take a walk?"

  Serene nodded and they got out. A cold wind whipped at their faces. The ocean was a silvery dark blue, lit up from the cars' headlights, and it sent mounds of rolling blackness their way which crashed into frothing foam, crumbling into a slick of bubbles rushing back to the black mass. They walked silently, hands bumping until Serene's fingers caught his and he felt that little rush he always got when she touched him.

  "There are so many memories," she said quietly. "They are mine and they are Dora's, and they are…" Her other hand went to her mouth and she gave a little sob. Steve stopped and pulled her into his arms.

  "I don't understand what's going on up there in your head,” he said, “but I want you to know, Serene, that I love you. I've always loved you."

  She squeezed him to her and then pulled away, looking up into his face.

  "I know who hurt Taylor."

  Steve could feel his heart speed up. Did she somehow know about Carrie? That Carrie had pushed Taylor, made her fall down and knock her head against the wall. It wasn't that hard, nothing that he thought really could have done the kind of damage that killed her. He'd helped Taylor up, told her to leave. Clearly, something was wrong when he'd asked her to go. The shame he'd felt at turning her out made him feel hot, his skin prickly at the thought of his actions. She had come to him for help.

  "It was Julie––or Mara," Serene said quietly. "I saw her."

  "Mara?"

  He stared down into Serene's earnest face.

  Mara.

  "But why?"

  Serene looked away.

  "Serene. Why did Mara hit Taylor?"

  "Her dad," she whispered.

  Steve felt the blood drain from his head. "Mara's dad?"

  Serene nodded and pressed her fist up against her lips.

  He knew. Serene didn't have to say. The implication was enough to bring back that sick feeling, the shame of that evening, Carrie finding Taylor sitting on their dad's lap. Taylor was sleeping with Darpan. Had she started up something with Mara's dad, too?

  "Does Mara know you know? Did you confront her?"

  "I don't know. But I think it's what I wanted to talk to Darpan about, or maybe I'd already talked to him. I can't remember everything, but I saw her arguing with Taylor that night. I was there."

  Julie. Mara.

  Mara was tall.

  Mara was missing.

  Steve looked toward the ocean, thinking. Had Mara somehow found out that Serene knew her secret and gone on the run? But no, that didn't make sense, she had too much at stake––her children––she wouldn't have left them.

  That time at the restaurant when they'd all gone out to celebrate Gina's birthday. Enzo wasn't there. He was out of the country. After Mara had paid the bill, he'd watched her sign the receipt. She held the pen in her fist, hand slanted upward over the slip of paper.

  "You're a lefty like me," Steve had joked.

  She'd looked up, grinned and gave him a fist bump.

  Wasn't it around the same time that Enzo reported Mara missing that Cuppa found Dora wandering about Hollywood?

  Was it the next day?

  The events were kind of a blur in his mind.

  Erica had just left for Paris on a business trip. It was right around that time when Serene lost her memory.

  "What if I did the wrong thing, talking to Darpan?" Serene said, staring up at him pensively. "It was a long time ago. And I don't think she meant to kill Taylor."

  Steve shook his head and sighed. At one time it would have been black and white for him, but life was more nuanced than that. He'd learned over the years.

  "You might want to see Darpan, find out what you may or may not have told him. But I think if he's innocent––"

  "He shouldn't be paying for a crime he didn't commit," Serene finished. She took in a breath. "Steve?"

  "Yes."

  "I want you to know that I love you. I want you to know how I feel, in case I disappear."

  The beating of his heart had migrated to his ears, almost drowning out the surf. "What do you mean?"

  Her eyes were big and moist in the duskiness created by the headlights of continuous traffic. "I'm not just one person," she said softly.

  His hand stroked her cheek and cupped under her chin, lifting her face up. They kissed, and for a moment he felt dizzy at the taste of her—his Serene.

  "I'll do whatever I can to not lose you again," he said fiercely.

  She nodded, sniffing. "But just in case. I want you to know. I love you."

  60

  Serene - March 2020

  * * *

  When she woke up, she found that she was still Serene. But she felt stronger, like she'd somehow been infused with energy that she hadn't known was missing until she could feel it pulsing through her body. There were things to do, conversations to have with Erica, Cuppa, the children. There were changes to make and they would all need to discuss them. Serene showered and dressed, pulling her braids into a ponytail. In the dinin
g room, a boy sat at their kitchen table. He was eating alone. Serene wondered who he was and where everyone had gone. It was late, she knew. She'd rolled out of bed at ten. The boy looked up and Serene felt a sharp jolt.

  Jesse?

  "Hi," he mumbled. On closer inspection, he was wearing a blouse, but his hair, his beautiful mermaid hair, was gone. Closer to the roots, it was a darker shade of light brown.

  "Hey." Serene took a seat opposite Jesse at the table. "I see you cut your hair."

  Jesse sighed, setting down his spoon where it sank into his oatmeal. "Yeah. I asked Barbara to cut it for me."

  "She did a good job."

  Barbara had given him a shag cut with long bangs.

  Jesse gave Serene a weary look and fiddled with the handle of his spoon.

  "Why did you decide to cut it?"

  He shrugged. "I think maybe I just want to look like a boy for now."

  "Because of what Ron said?"

  "I was just experimenting, okay? Now I want to be a boy!" he yelled and made to get up, but Serene covered one of his hands with hers.

  "I was only curious, Jesse. I don't––" She struggled to find the right words. "It's only that I thought you liked dressing up in dresses and things."

  "I do." Tears sprang to his eyes. "Sometimes," he whispered.

  Serene’s hand tightened over her son's. "Did I, like, talk you into dressing like a girl?"

  He shook his head, a single tear rolling down his cheek. "No. I wanted to. You said I could if I wanted. But now…" He shrugged again. "It was like, the more I dressed like that the more I felt like I had to do it."

  "Why?"

  "Because everyone kept saying, it's what Jesse likes to do, and everyone was making a big deal about my gender fluidity." His tongue stumbled on the last word and he blew up at his bangs. "I know I'm figuring it out, but now I want to figure this part out." He looked up at her shyly.

 

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