by Amber Lynn
I came to and found myself on a bed. That, I guess, was to be expected. I didn’t know how much time had passed, so I moved to get out of the bed. I was a little surprised to find that it was only a twin bed, because I hadn’t been in a house that had a bed that small since I was a child. Also surprising was the fact that no one yelled at me for moving.
Once standing, I looked around the room and quickly realized it looked familiar. I walked over to one of the windows and saw a swing set outside. Upon seeing it, I immediately knew that I was in the house I grew up in.
I couldn’t think of a reason for Nate to take me to Montana, so I assumed I was having a vision. All of my other visions had been centuries before the present time, and I didn’t need to remember the life I was in, so I was more than a little confused.
Looking in the little vanity that was set up in my room, I saw my eyes staring back at me. I wasn’t sure what year the vision was from, but seeing my adult eyes wasn’t what I’d expected. It took years to get the amount of distress I saw in those eyes, and I knew it had only just begun while I was in that house.
“This is so weird,” I said. I was shocked to notice my lips actually moved. I lifted my arm and waved at myself in the mirror. Wow, I had control over my body. If I wasn’t a little kid, that could’ve been cool.
I didn’t understand the need for a vision about something I more than likely remembered. I hated wasting time, even when I had no control over it, and I contemplated laying down to wait until I was back with Nate.
As I was looking through the closet, trying to decide what miniature clothing to wear, I heard my bedroom door open and my mom’s voice. I closed my eyes and tried to wake up like I’d been able to before. When I opened them, I was still in the closet.
“Happy birthday, sweetie,” she said, coming to find me in the closet. Being caught in a closet with her around was usually dangerous. “Are you going to wear a pretty dress to your party today?”
She was wearing one of her patented outfits featuring a pink dress, pink pumps and a pink scarf around her neck. It looked like someone had vomited bubble gum all over her.
My first thought was to ask if she was high, but I refrained from saying it and instead said, “Sorry, but I really wanted to wear my new Spice Girls t-shirt.” I took said shirt out of the closet and wondered what was wrong with me back then. I also wasn’t sure how the small shirt was supposed to fit me.
“Well, I guess that’s a step up from your usual plaid. I’m just glad you’re actually wearing something I bought you,” she replied.
Sorry mom, but if you would’ve asked me, plaid ranked way higher on the list than the Spice Girls. I really didn’t remember that time in my life all that well, so I supposed my taste in music wasn’t as bad as I thought.
“Yeah, mom, I thought it would be nice to wear something for you on my birthday,” I said.
“I’m glad to see you’re making an effort after that tantrum you threw last night about your party,” she stated. “Taking all of your classmates to the circus is the perfect way for you to make some new friends. You can’t be a loner all of your life, Avery.”
Again I wished I could comment with what really was on my mind, but I was afraid I’d break some time continuum thing. Instead of telling her just wait until my soulmate gets ahold of me and turns me into a social butterfly, I said, “But I don’t like any of the kids at school.”
Chances were it was a true statement, so I didn’t think it would get me into trouble. I had to look on the bright side a little bit, because she said we were going to a circus and not having a tea party. Not that I liked circuses that much, but I remembered at least a couple tea parties that I wanted to forget.
They were when I was younger than I thought I was, so it was past the point where she liked to play dress-up with me. Those years were some of the worst ones in my life.
“I don’t want to hear that anymore, Avery. We’re eating breakfast in ten minutes, so you better be ready, and do something cute with your hair,” she said, leaving the closet, and hopefully the stratosphere.
If anyone ever wondered why my mother drove me crazy, I enter exhibit A into the records. Growing up, I was never girlie enough for her and she went to extremes to try to make me so. I was shocked I never woke up completely dressed in some frilly dress and tights. I imagined if I ever did find that happening, I would’ve started sleeping with knives under my mattresses a little earlier in life.
Learning that we were phoenixes had only made her antics make less sense. I didn’t remember when I was originally a child, but I knew it was during a time period when people didn’t care about clothing at all. I really wished I’d been born the second time during one of her less crazy phases.
I got dressed in my ever so cool shirt, some jeans and sandals. Since my birthday was in the summer I imagined they’d be fine. I looked at my hair and it really hadn’t changed much. It was all the same length and midway down my back. I looked on my vanity for anything that would appease my mother’s cute hair clause, and decided to put on a pink headband. She couldn’t expect much more from me.
As I made my way downstairs, I thought about all the things I’d learned in the present about being a phoenix and how different my life might have been if I’d known earlier. One thing I’d been told a lot stuck out in my mind. Everyone told me that no one had had a new unique in, I assumed, hundreds of years.
How in the world did they explain me? I didn’t think for a second a stork brought me, so there had to be something I was missing. I was brought out of my pondering when I saw my father was waiting at the bottom of the steps with a present in his hand.
“Here,” he said, handing me the present, clearly excited. “These won’t be available to the public until next year, but I have a friend who was able to get me one in advance. I really think you’ll like it.”
I took the present, which was wrapped with newspaper, and started the unwrapping process. It seemed he wanted it done right then, and I didn’t want to disappoint him. When I got to the contents, I found it was a black and white Furby. I didn’t remember actually ever having a Furby, so it was a little strange.
Continuing the desire to not disappoint, I put on a huge grin and said, “What is it? It’s so cute.”
“It’s a little robot toy. I know you like playing around with that old Macintosh Classic in the office, so I thought getting you a cuddly robot would be a happy medium between a teddy bear and a video game. You’re only ten after all,” he said. I finally knew how old I was supposed to be, which ended up a little younger than I’d thought.
“Thanks, Dad,” I said genuinely meaning it. As much as my mom always drove me crazy, my dad somehow always understood me.
“I’m glad you like it. Remember they aren’t out yet, so you might want to keep it a secret from any of the kids at school. How about we go get some breakfast. I believe your mother is making the works,” he said, leading me into the kitchen.
Sure enough, Mom was flipping pancakes while frying eggs and bacon. I was pretty sure the only thing I picked up from her in life was a love of cooking.
I took a seat at our little breakfast table and waited for her to dish me up. Not remembering my eating habits at ten, I said, “Just pancakes and eggs for me today, please.” I managed to even use please. I bet that word didn’t come out of my mouth much as a child.
“But Avery, you love bacon. I made extra just because of that reason. Since it’s your birthday, I wasn’t even going to complain about how much you ate,” she replied.
“Sorry, Mom, I just don’t feel like eating pork this morning,” I said, trying to come up with a good explanation. “I read somewhere that it has a lot of salt in it and I don’t want to bloat up before the circus.”
“Well, that’s a good idea. I’m proud of you for thinking of it. I’ll just save the bacon in the fridge for sandwiches later,” she replied.
Seriously? What ten-year-old cared about being bloaty in front of their friends? Earth to
mom, the mother ship is calling you home.
We ate our breakfast quietly. Dad and Mom discussed grown-up things that current me and past me could care less about. Thinking of past me, I remembered that there wasn’t someone in my body guiding my actions. I was always able to draw from the past me to fill in gaps, but it seemed like I was flying solo.
I’d complained about not having control, but it was nice to have a clue what was going on. In the mirror I hadn’t seen a ten-year-old kid, and unless I’d done a better job forgetting my childhood than I remembered, things were happening I didn’t think ever had.
When we were done eating, mother took care of the dishes, all by hand, and then dried them and put them away. It was fascinating to watch. I wondered if in the current time she still did that, or if she used a dishwasher. Her dress hadn’t changed, so I was guessing her habits remained the same as well.
I had to figure she’d spent a lot of time watching fifties and sixties television and decided she wanted to mimic it. During my teenage years, I’d brought home feminist literature and left pamphlets and books around where she could read them. It never helped, and more than likely she saw the little presents and laughed.
As she put the last item away, she turned to me and said, “I see your father gave you his gift, I can’t wait for you to see mine.” She walked over to me and pulled a small box out of her apron pocket.
I took the box, which of course was wrapped in pink paper with an oversized bow on top of it, and carefully removed the wrapping. I was sure she spent a long time on it, so I was being nice. When I opened the box, a beautiful phoenix necklace was revealed.
It looked familiar to me, but it wasn’t something I knew from my present life. I wondered if by that time they’d figured out who I was, because I was pretty sure it was something from my past. I didn’t have any particular memories telling me that, but the feeling in my gut left no room for questions.
“Mom, this is really beautiful. I love it,” I said as I lifted it very delicately out of the box. The sunshine from the windows hit it, making it sparkle.
“Really, you do?” she asked surprised. I knew I’d never liked a single gift she’d given me, so I understood why her eyes widened.
“Yes, Mom. A phoenix is a perfect gift for me,” I told her as I put the necklace on.
“You even knew it was a phoenix. They aren’t exactly something popular right now,” she said, looking at me suspiciously.
“I do read, Mom,” I replied, trying to divert attention from me knowing too much. “Mythology is a really cool subject once you start diving into it.”
“Oh, of course,” she said, apparently satisfied with my brainy response. “Well, we better get ready to go. You don’t want to be late to your own party.”
“No, I don’t,” I said as cheerfully as I could. It would be nice to skip the party altogether, but I knew how hardheaded my mother could be, and at ten I didn’t have a lot going in my favor to get out of the party.
She herded us outside to a car I did remember. It was a brand new, back then, black Chevrolet Malibu. It was the first new car I ever got to ride in. I even went with my dad to pick it out. Hopefully me remembering it meant that I was going to remember other things about the day that so far hadn’t registered in my mind as actually happening.
CHAPTER 19
My worst nightmares come to life