Memory Girl

by Singleton, Linda Joy

  Memory Girl

  Text Copyright © 2016 by Linda Joy Singleton

  Cover Image Copyright © Shutterstock/pikselstock

  Ripped Image Copyright © Shutterstock/pzAxe

  Interior Needle Image Copyright © Shutterstock/Viktorija Reuta

  Texture Image for Interior Titles Copyright © Shutterstock/Ollyy

  All rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced in any manner whatsoever without express permission of the copyright holder.

  For more information, write:

  CBAY Books

  PO Box 670296

  Dallas, TX 75367

  Children’s Brains are Yummy Books

  Dallas, Texas

  www.cbaybooks.com

  Hardcover ISBN: 978-1-944821-08-1

  ebook ISBN: 978-1-944821-09-8

  Kindle ISBN: 978-1-944821-10-4

  PDF ISBN: 978-1-944821-11-1

  Printed in the United States of America

  From idea to published book, MEMORY GIRL has been a long journey that began nearly a decade ago. I wish to thank my family, Danna Smith, Linda Whalen, Verla Kay, my critique group and other supportive friends who never stopped believing that this book would be published.

  Also, an infinity of thanks to Madeline Smoot, a good friend and amazing editor who is sharing this journey with me.

  “Natural selection, as it has operated in human history, favors not only the clever but the murderous.”

  —Barbara Ehrenreich

  PART

  ONE

  ONE

  “Get down, Jennza—or you’ll die!”

  “Don’t be dramatic,” I call out to Lorelei, my fingers curling around steel mesh as I dangle midway up the Fence. “No one dies anymore.”

  Lorelei flips her raven-black braid over her shoulder while glaring at me. “Some do. If they’re not cautious.”

  “I’m never cautious and look! I’m nearly touching the sky.” My words sail on salty breezes, challenging the world to strike me down. Nothing happens, of course. Dying is so retro-century. I laugh and turn away from Lorelei, not wanting to waste a second of my last freedom. It’s her last day too, so you’d think she’d understand. Guess not.

  I swat aside a loose spiral of my too-curly brown hair as I look up. Only four more handholds to the top, which is strung with barbed wire to keep out the dangers roaming the rocky shore cliffs. I’ve never seen any dangers—only a sparkling sea spilling beyond the sky with mysterious possibilities. The view is amazing, breathtaking, and completely forbidden.

  “Lor, you can see forever up here,” I call down. “Climb up.”

  “Are you crazed? I have no wish to crack my bones.” She folds her arms across her chest, rattling the tiny sand-shells she’s sewn on her tunic sleeves. “Why must you keep ripping rules? Don’t you think I notice when you sneak out? I never tell the Instructors, but I worry until you return.”

  “You worry too much.”

  “And you don’t worry—ever! If you won’t listen to me, talk to him!” She points to a lanky figure coming up the cliff path. It’s only Marcus, his fawn-brown hair shining with streaks of sun, his attention focused on something dark and wiggly cupped in his hand.

  Lorelei stomps over to Marcus, then points toward me. “Marcus, tell her to get down, or she’ll fall and break her neck.”

  “Get down, Jennz,” Marcus says in a distracted tone, his hair sweeping across his forehead as he studies the crawly in his palm.

  “Heya, Marc!” Balancing carefully, high over my born-mates, I cling to steel mesh with one hand and wave with the other. “What are you holding?”

  “A hybrid of lizard.” He taps the squirming creature in his hand. “Its back is smooth with fish scales, not rough like the lizards I typically find.”

  I could tell him where there are more scaled lizards (I call them “swizards” because they swim). But telling Marcus would lead to questions I don’t want to answer. After the Celebraze today, there won’t be much left that’s completely my own, so I hold tight to my secret.

  “Where’d you find it?” Steel presses hard lines into my back as I lean against the Fence.

  “On a decaying log.”

  “Put him in water. Soon.”

  “Why?”

  “So he’ll survive.”

  Marcus lifts his hand over his eyes to shield the rising sun as he gazes up curiously. “How do you know?”

  I am saved from answering by Lorelei, who turns on Marcus, knuckling her hand into a fist, her obsidian ring flashing like her dark, angry eyes. “Can you stay to the topic? Or don’t you care that Jennza is over ten meters high?”

  “She’s no more than four meters,” he replies.

  “But she shouldn’t even be climbing the Fence! We should be studying the Name Books so we’ll be prepared for our new names.”

  “We’re getting more than new names,” I say, that familiar tightness squeezing my chest. I’ve never confided to my friends how much I dread joining a Family—leaving everything I’ve known to become someone else. So much is changing. Too much! After tonight, I won’t be allowed to call my friends by their youth names, and no one will ever call me Jennza again.

  “Finally our lives are beginning.” Lorelei’s anger melts into a dreamy smile. “Since learning of memdenity I’ve wondered who I’ll become. Today I’ll find out.”

  “I already know who I’ll be,” Marcus says with a shrug.

  “Don’t be demental,” Lorelei scoffs. “You can’t know which Family will Choose you.”

  “Oh, I’m sure.”

  “How?” Lorelei asks.

  Marcus runs his finger along the swizard’s scaly spine, his cheeks reddening. “I—I visited them.”

  Lorelei’s mouth falls open, speechless, which would amuse me if I weren’t also stunned. She doesn’t ask which Family; that would be completely against the rules. Even I won’t ask, but I can guess because, well, I know Marcus. He’s fascinated with farming, bees and gardens, and while most Families grow their own crops and gardens, only the Sarwalds raise bees.

  Who allowed this unusual visit? I wonder. Not our Instructors, surely, as they are rigid about rules. Was it the Sarwald Family leader? As Grand Leader in ShareHaven, no one holds a higher regard in the community than Grand Sarwald—except the scientists who gave us immortality.

  “You’re both ripping impossible.” Lorelei stomps over to the trail, then turns back to me. “Jennza, I refuse to cover for you this time. Get down now!”

  Instead, I climb up. Steadying myself on a steel post, I duck my head to avoid razor-sharp barbed wire that stretches endlessly in both directions. This should be an impossible barrier to cross but I know the flaw. The wire above me snapped two years ago, and instead of the usual repair, someone twisted it back together for quick escapes.

  I was that someone.

  Beyond the Fence a steep cliff trail winds through boulders and dense brush down to the shore. I inhale a deep breath of sea and courage. I’ve been doing this for two years, but it’s still tricky—throwing one leg like a hook, heaving myself close to the razor-barbs, clinging to a post with one hand while I untwist wires into a narrow gap of escape.

  Fingers clutching wire mesh, I rear back with my leg, swing upward, and ….

  Smack.

  My leg smashes against steel.

  Pain crashes through me. My hands slip and my arms flail.

  Dizzily, I hear Lorelei yelling my name. A blur of movement below and she’s rushing toward me. Marcus drops the swizard, following. Lorelei reaches the Fence first, her arms lifted, with no doubt that she’s strong enough to catch me.

  But I don’t fall. Sweat soaks my clothes and blood trickles from a jagged cut on my arm. Glancing down at Lorelei’s pinched f
ace, I swallow guilt. She cares about me, not only because we’re born-mates but because we’re friends.

  “No worries. I’m okay,” I call down with apology in my voice.

  “You’re bleeding,” Lorelei accuses.

  “Only a scratch.” I shift on my wire perch to hide my arm.

  “It’ll need curing ointment. Hurry down.”

  “No.” I shake my head. “I can’t explain where I’m going, just trust that it’s important. Afterward, I’ll join you for reading or studying or anything you want.”

  “I want you to follow rules!” She throws up her arms. “By climbing the Fence, you’re risking all Three Dangers.”

  Marcus lifts his hand automatically, like every morning in Instruction when we recite the Safety Pledge. “Protect your body from the Three Dangers: head trauma, heart puncture, and drowning.”

  Lorelei glares at me. “If you fall to your death, I’ll never forgive you.”

  I try not to laugh at her unlogic. My theory is that Instructors invented the Three Dangers to control us. My born-mates have no trouble avoiding danger, but Instructor Penny says I have a rare talent for rule breaking. I don’t set out to break anything—I just find more interesting things to do. Like today during study session. While the others studied Name Books or planned Celebraze statements, I stare-dreamed out a window, imagining I was a storm gull soaring over the sea. Skimming foamy waves, air-dancing in salty drizzles, feathers fluttering on gusty breezes. Without planning, I’d jumped from my work station and run outside. I knew the Instructors wouldn’t object since it’s our last day. But I didn’t know Lorelei and Marcus would follow.

  Marcus peers up at me, suspiciously. “Why are you up there, Jennz?”

  “Why do you think?” Two years ago, I’d invited him to climb the Fence with me, excited to share my discoveries with the only person who would appreciate them. But he refused to break rules. I never asked him again.

  “I think you should listen to Lorelei,” he says stubbornly. “Reaching fifteen comes with responsibilities.”

  “I’ll be responsible later.”

  Marcus frowns. “Jennz, don’t do this. Our days of youth-playing are over. Today is for growing-up.”

  Wire bites my skin as I grip the Fence. “What if I don’t want to grow up? I like who I am. I don’t want to change.”

  Marcus shakes his head, as if I’ve spoken in a language he’s never heard before. “You’re not being sensical.”

  “It makes sense to me. I like sharing days with you, Lorelei, the other youths, and our Instructors. Why should I be forced to take someone else’s name and memories?”

  “We’re not forced,” Lorelei argues. “We’ll be welcomed by our relatives and take a contributing role in ShareHaven. How can you not want that honor?”

  Marcus nods. “It’s why we were born.”

  “I know,” I say, so softly my words are autumn leaves withering and falling to the ground.

  Lorelei puts her arm around Marcus, and they stand unified against me. I know they’re right. I should be preparing for my new life and excited like my fourteen born-mates. But how can I give up everything I’ve been until now? After today I may never touch the sea again.

  I feel a prick of wetness on my arm. The cut from the barbed wire still bleeds. It’s only a thin pink-red line, but it reminds me I’m not danger-proof. I’m a caretaker of my body—not the sole owner—and it’s my duty to be careful. Soon I’ll have a Family, a new name, and a forever role in ShareHaven society.

  But will I still be me?

  “I have to go … I’m sorry,” I say and turn my back on my friends.

  I untwist the wires so they fall to the sides like the open mouth of a jagged-toothed monster. I’ve grown up with warnings of claws and snakes outside ShareHaven. But while I’ve heard roars beyond our boundaries, I’ve never seen monstrous creatures. Day by day, I only see the same eternal faces.

  Everything except my face will change when I belong to a Family.

  I don’t want to think on this and push through the narrow opening, legs dangling as I balance precariously on wire. I’m only a jump away from the forbidden side of the Fence.

  They are no more warnings from my best mates. I’m tempted to look behind me. Instead, I lift my gaze to the gray-blue horizon that stretches forever. Chilly sea fills me with an ache so deep I want to cry, although I have no idea why. Am I flawed somehow? Why can’t I behave the expected, dutiful way, like Lorelei, and be studious, like Marcus? Why am I always yearning, frustrated, even angry sometimes for no sensical reason? Why can’t I accept all I’ve learned from the Instructors? Instead I am tormented with questions.

  My mind slips into familiar groves of wonderings—whispers shared in darkness about belonging to a Family. Since our birth, we’ve been on the same path with the same destination—to reach age fifteen, join a Family, and receive memories of a Lost One. There’s a retro word that comes to mind: recycling—when rare resources like metal or plastic are melted and reshaped into something new.

  Why can’t I stay in this shape?

  With a fierce look at the sky, I suck in salty freedom. I look over at the safe side of the Fence, relieved yet a little disappointed too. No one is there.

  In the distance, I spot Lorelei and Marcus walking away.

  Clinging to the wire, I whisper over and over, “I am Jennza … I am Jennza … I am Jennza ….”

  I spread my arms wide.

  And jump.

  TWO

  I land on a rock shelf on the forbidden side of the Fence.

  Slowly, I wind down the steep, rocky trail. Warm blood droplets trickle on my arm, and I swipe them away. The cut isn’t deep, but it reminds me of that heart-stopping moment of falling. Balancing on a boulder, I dig into my front panton pocket for a cloth rag and wrap it around my arm.

  Shivering, I gulp in deep breaths. Why am I fearful? I’ve climbed down this cliff often, even in the night-dark, and never came close to falling. I sneak out early morns when winds slumber and waves softly sigh in their sleep. It’s only me, alone, with a friendly sea. Now the sun is bright, breezes swirling sand and salty droplets. I shut out fearsome thoughts and continue down the path.

  Foamy waves splash, and my leather boots sink into the damp sand. I glance over my shoulder at my sunken footsteps trailing me like stalking shadows. Smiling at my imaginings, I throw out my arms to embrace the sea, sky, and morning. Rocky outcroppings teem with life, storm gulls fly overhead, and tiny sea creatures dive into bubbly sand holes. Despite warnings of claws, venomous snakes, and savage subhuman Nocturnes lurking outside the boundaries, I feel safe here. In this hidden shore, I can just be me.

  Usually, I throw sticks in the surf or hunt for sand shells, but my time is running out. So I hop over rocks and streams spilling into the sea until I reach a steep rock formation, so impassible that anyone else would have retreated in surrender.

  On my first trip over the Fence, I nearly did turn around. But I was curious, so I splashed in the waves, delighting in the giantness of the castle-like rock. I tossed driftwood into the surf, then laughed when the sea flung it back to me. A gift from my sea minions, I imagined. I flung the stick until a gusty wind hurled it high at the rocky cliff. I waited for my stick to bounce off the rock back to me. Only it never did. I threw another stick at the same spot. And it vanished too.

  That’s how I found the cave.

  My cave.

  Now I’m visiting for the last time. I won’t have the same freedom in a Family, and my new memories—memdenity—will change me too. I may not even want to play in the sea, although that seems impossible. But the Instructors say thoughts, habits, and even tastes change when a youth receives a Lost One’s memories. I ache to think of never coming here again and forgetting what I love most. Yet Instructor Penny, whom I love dearly, says that memdenity will grow stronger with maturity, like heavy blankets layering over my Jennza memories.

  As if I can run from these thoughts, I climb like a
monklee up the steep rock castle, pressing myself against the craggy surface. Tufts of green moss stain my fingers. The stain will wash off, so when I stand on the podium at the Celebraze today, I will appear no different than my born-mates.

  The shadowed cave is camouflaged by darkness. My feet find the plateau, narrow but wide enough to perch on as I enter the tunnel. It slants down, seeming to plunge into oblivion.

  When I first discovered this opening, I could hear Instructor Theo’s voice in my head warning of dangers.

  Do not stray from the paths.

  Do not touch anything unnamed.

  Do not venture beyond boundaries.

  I always roll my eyes when he goes on and on about safeguarding our bodies. He isn’t worried about us but about the Lost Ones whose memories won’t live again if we’re damaged. Don’t I matter too? I want to ask. But I already know the answer and rebel by growing more reckless. With near zero chance of dying, what is there to fear?

  Still that first time at the cave, I took a deep breath before crawling into the unknown. Now I know every shadow and secret of my cave.

  This morning is cool with chilly air breezing through my cotton shirt and denim pantons. While youths usually wear tunic shirts over dark-gray pantons, we also have some treasured old-made garments. Instructor Penny gifted me with black denim pantons—sturdy fabric that’s flexible for climbing. Of all the Instructors, I’ll miss Penny the most. She’s the only one who feels like … well … family.

  Sighing with the sadness of good-byes, I descend into darkness, my echoing footfalls surrounding me. When my eyes adjust, I smile at tiny crawlies creeping on the narrow passage walls. Once I turn the corner, the tunnel lightens from high ceiling holes that let in golden rays. I nearly slip on a patch of moss but grab a protruding rock. The narrow tunnel drops, then rises, opening into an amazing chamber. Rock walls slither and shimmer with small, slimy creatures. I don’t know their species names but have given them names of my own: swizards, finshines, and rainbells. High on the ceiling, purple vines and crystal bubble chains dangle like luminescent wind chimes. Every time I come here, awe bursts inside me.