by Eileen Sharp
Disturbed, he slid out of the bed. He found the window controls and cleared the dark glass to reveal the blue mountains. He didn’t remember seeing any bodies, but he hadn’t looked for them either.
A knock sounded at his door.
“Come in,” he said.
A smiling young woman in a medic uniform peeked her head in. “You’re awake!”
“Yep,” he answered, tugging at the clothes they’d given him, which were rumpled. He definitely looked like a patient.
“Would you mind a visitor?” she asked.
“No one knows me.”
She looked behind her and then back at him. “Well, there’s a young girl who says she met you in the lobby.”
Remembering the girl who had taken his picture, he answered, “Oh yeah, sure.”
Stepping into the room with her mother, the girl gazed around his hospital room, her small, delicate face and green eyes shy. Her mother wore her silver-streaked dark hair swept back in a loose knot, and gold jewelry on her fingers and around her neck.
The girl tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “Hi. We heard you were still in the hospital so we thought we’d come by. Have you had any news about your family?”
“No,” he said, unsure of what else to say and certain that a detailed description of his reaction to the memory enhancing meds would be too much information.
Caina shared a look with her mother that probably meant something, but he wasn’t sure what it was. “Sorry to hear that.”
“It’s okay. Even if they don’t find them I’m sure I’ll remember.” He glanced down at her hand. “How is your cut?”
She held out the lightly bandaged finger. “Pretty good. Want to see? They glued it together.”
“Sure.”
She pulled the wrapping back to reveal a neatly sealed cut. He towered over her, looking down at the tidy repair.
“Wow. That’s good. Does it hurt?”
“Nope. They gave me some stuff.”
Her mother said, “I hope you don’t mind us checking up on you.”
“Oh no, it’s nice to have visitors, actually. I haven’t had anyone else stop by. No one knows who I am.”
She held out her hand. “I didn’t introduce my self earlier. My name is Jenna West. We’d like to help you find your family if you don’t mind the intrusion—my husband has a lot of contacts with the other colonies.”
The offer surprised him. He had no idea where to start, and he could use the help. “Thank you, I would like that.”
“Dad knows everyone. If anyone can find your family, it’s him,” Caina said, her pride in her father obvious.
Joshua wondered what his own father was like and if he was searching for him. “I appreciate it,” he said.
Caina smiled. “Great. And if you ever get a ‘wrist thing’ we can talk.”
“Ok. If I do, I will.”
After they left, he sat next to the window. It would be nice if they meant it. No one else seemed to care. That wasn’t entirely fair, he realized. Most of them were people doing their jobs. He sighed. It was so strange to feel like this, so disconnected, as if he didn’t belong anywhere or to anyone, but he knew someone must be worried about him somewhere.
He spent days with Dr. Calloway trying to coax anything out of his mind, not just memories but maybe familiar scents, tastes, music and even abstract things like colors. Anxiety gnawed at him as he reached for any kind of memory, but it didn’t feel like a wall he could break through. The amnesia stretched out like a vast space, a great black hole of nothing. It felt so absolute. He fought the suspicion that there were no memories to find. He had a past, he reminded himself.
The crash itself was a mystery. The craft had no markings, not even a manufacturer. The four crew who had died had no ID’s and like Joshua, they matched no database in any planetary system. None of their belongings gave any indication of where they were from, including their clothes, though it looked they had all worn uniforms. These were not renegades or pirates. They had belonged to an organization or a colony of some kind. Joshua was the only survivor and the only hope of learning anything.
One week later, despite their efforts, they made no progress with his memory. Whatever Joshua’s mind had locked away, it had sealed it very well. The origins of the crew and the craft remained unknown, as did his past.
Mrs. West’s offer of help was all he had left, but he hadn’t heard from them and assumed they’d forgotten him.
Driven by loneliness, he twisted holomaps around trying to find a solar system that felt familiar. Planets with two suns, giant red suns, blue dwarfs, old stars, and ringed planets; he stayed up late at night searching the universe. One night he became mesmerized with one sun system in particular. Weary from staring at so many, but excited that he recognized one, he zoomed in on the name of the planet that looked familiar. Huron. He paused, and then smiled to himself. He’d landed on Huron, near the Remington colony. So he recognized where he already was. The comfort of being able to trust his memory eased some of the aching loneliness. If he made new memories now he could be assured they would stay with him.
Chapter Three
Not Alone
Three weeks after he’d arrived on the Remington colony, Dr. Calloway came into his room, but he didn’t sit down in his usual chair. He had the air of someone with a big revelation, which made Joshua nervous. He knew he couldn’t stay in the hospital forever; they must have made a decision about him.
“I have some good news for you.”
Joshua leaned back against the window. “Okay.”
“Since they can’t prove you’re a threat, they’ve decided you aren’t one.”
That was good, he supposed, but he had nowhere to go. It wasn’t anyone’s responsibility to take care of him and they had only kept him at the hospital because they wanted to be sure he posed no danger.
“Okay,” he said again, feeling anxiety creep in.
“We’re taking you to an agency home for a while. You can enroll in school and start a new life. Getting into a regular routine may help bring your memories back. Until then you’ll still see me every week.”
He was glad he was getting out of the hospital and that Dr. Calloway was going to keep working with him. He didn’t want to resign himself to having no past.
The term “agency” was a euphemism for orphanage, he discovered. He didn’t think of himself that way, but it was an apt description of who he was, especially without any memories.
The two-story yellow house with the big yard was almost like a regular home, except it had a dining hall for the forty-some children and a main office. Several house parents lived there as well, and he liked most of them, except for one couple who obviously worked there for the money, not the kids. They weren’t mean, they just didn’t have a lot of patience, and they didn’t develop any real bonds with their charges.
Joshua had no trouble settling into the house routine, although he was the only one his age. All the other kids were a lot younger. At least it meant he got his own bedroom.
On the second week, he came home from school and stepped through the door to find one of the younger girls sitting stiffly on the couch. She wore a pretty lavender dress, her blond hair done up in curls. She was about seven, and her eyes looked up at the door with such eagerness that he glanced behind him to see if anyone else was there.
“Hi, Joshua,” she said, her smile fading, and her eyes staying trance-like on his gaze. The kids were kind about his red eyes, but they couldn’t hide their fascination.
Closing the door behind him he asked, “Are you waiting for someone?” He regretted not remembering her name, but there were so many kids. He hoped she didn’t notice.
She looked down at her hands as she twisted them. “A mom and dad are coming to talk to me.”
She didn’t elaborate, but he understood all too well. Every child here had one wish that permeated the very air they breathed.
“Good luck.”
Her smile
trembled. “Thanks.”
Going up the stairs, his chest felt tight. He understood how much she wanted to belong. He didn’t know anything about his past, but being alone was a feeling he didn’t like. It gnawed at him like a constant ache, even when he tried to distract himself with school, it was always there. It amazed him that he could be surrounded by people, yet still feel as if he weren’t connected to them. It was puzzling but very real.
He went to his room and closed the door. The agency had given him a cellband when he’d arrived, though it was monitored and he couldn’t access any net portal they deemed inappropriate for children. It didn’t take him long to find Mrs. West’s contact information. He sent her a simple message asking how Caina was doing.
Her answer came back quickly.
Caina is fine, thanks for asking! Her finger has healed nicely. How are you doing?
I’m doing good. School is great and I’m doing well in my classes.
How is the memory coming along?
Nothing new, but that’s okay.
Anything from family or friends? Hope you don’t mind my asking.
They haven’t found anything, unfortunately.
He tried to make it sound like he didn’t care. There wasn’t anything she could do about it and he didn’t want them feeling sorry for him.
Would you like to come to dinner at our house sometime?
The simple offer touched him.
Sure, that would be nice.
We can do it on Thursday, if you’re available.
Thursday is great. Thank you! Tell Caina I said hi.
Will do! We’ll pick you up at 6:00.
He counted down the days to the dinner with Mr. and Mrs. West and their daughter. He was not sure, but maybe he could count them as friends.
The evening arrived, and he found himself downstairs on the couch where he’d seen the other little girl waiting. He privately called it the Desperate Waiting Couch. He had done some research on the Wests and found out Mr. West was the premier for the Remington Colony.
Premiers acted as managers under the planet’s government. They were elected by a board, and some of them were heavily invested financially in their colonies. Mr. West owned a lot of businesses on the colony and he’d been appointed last year. Joshua could only guess that he was fairly important.
A knock came at the door, and he jumped up to get it.
A distinguished, thin man with cool blue eyes stood at the door. He wore crisp clothing and a casual jacket. There was an air of confidence about him, his back straight, his gaze direct. He did not look away or appear startled as most strangers did when they saw Joshua’s eyes.
Thinking it was some agency administrator, Joshua asked politely, “Can I help you?”
The man smiled, a small wry gesture, and held out his hand. “Hello, Joshua. I’m Stewart West. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
A rush of embarrassment flooded over him and Joshua held out his hand, hoping it wasn’t sweaty. “I’m sorry sir, I didn’t recognize you. It’s so nice to meet you, too. Thank you for inviting me to your home.”
Though small-boned, the man’s handshake was firm. “Are you ready to go?”
“Yes, sir.”
They went to the landing pad where a sleek, expensive looking transporter waited.
When Joshua had told the psychologist about the dinner invitation, Dr. Calloway had given him the horribly predictable “just be yourself” speech. Joshua would love to be himself if he knew who he was.
Joshua got in the transporter, clasping his hands in his lap at first, and then attempting to put them in his pockets, and then casually resting one arm on the window as if his body belonged to someone else and he had no idea what to do with his limbs.
As they drove out of the valley, both of them were quiet, though Mr. West seemed at home with the silence. In fact, everything about him was calm and deliberate, from his quiet voice to the unhurried way he drove. When the buildings disappeared and they were out in the hills and meadows, Mr. West said, “My wife instructed us not to ask about the crash that brought you here.”
Joshua looked over at him, wary, until he saw a mischievous twinkle in Mr. West’s eyes as he continued, “But of course that’s the story we all want to hear. We’re a little curious.”
Joshua relaxed. “That’s okay. There isn’t much for me to tell. I think I learned more from the news reports than being in it.”
“They say it came in fast and corrected at the last minute. Broke it in half—somewhat dramatic.”
“Yeah, it was kind of a mess, from what I read.”
“So you still have some amnesia? If I’m being too intrusive you can just tell me.”
Joshua let himself smile. “No, you’re fine. Yes, I still have amnesia so I can’t really tell you anything. There’s nothing to be intrusive about, I guess.”
Mr. West laughed drily. “I suppose you’re right.”
The autumn evening faded as they drove, the cold sunset shrouding the valley in a purple light. They turned into a narrow road lined with Fastidiously manicured trees. There were gardens, and a fountain illuminated by colored lights, the water cascading in greens and blues down a stone sculpture. Again, that feeling of the unfamiliar came over him. This was beauty he was sure he had not seen before, even in memories he couldn’t reach.
A large house appeared at the end of the road, columns rising and tall windows with decorative panes looking out over a stone courtyard. He wanted to say it was beautiful but didn’t want to seem as if he were in awe.
Mr. West opened the large front door and they went into an opulent foyer. A sparkling chandelier lit the space with a warm glow.
“My wife and Caina are in the kitchen. I’ll show you the way,” Mr. West said.
Walking through the richly paneled hallway, they passed high-ceilinged rooms with elegant furniture. They entered a large kitchen with a lot of white oak cabinets and dark granite counters. He recognized some of the appliances built into the wall, though others were unknown to him. A few plants hung from the rounded arch that framed the whole room. Mrs. West turned at her husband’s greeting, her smile instantly easing some of Joshua’s anxiety.
“Hello, Joshua! It’s so good to see you!”
Caina stood at the counter, wearing an asymmetrical dress that crisscrossed its way around her thin body. Joshua was not particularly aware of current dress styles, but he guessed she was fairly trendy.
“Hi,” she said, meeting his gaze. “How’s life out of the hospital?”
“Pretty good. How’s your cut?”
She waved her hand. “Healed.”
He eyed the knife and raised an eyebrow at her. “Should you be using a knife?”
“Ha! Yes, I’m fine.”
He took one of the knives and set a tomato on the cutting board. “I guess I’ll help you just to make sure. So how do you want these cut?”
“In wedges. I can show you how if you’ve never done it.”
He handed the knife back to her and she seemed happy to be in charge. Also, he had no idea how to cut a tomato.
He turned out to be a quick learner, so she kept giving him things to chop.
At the dinner table, he didn’t put as much on his plate as he usually did, taking his cues from the rest of them. He could have eaten much more. The salad had a tangy dressing that was both refreshing and satisfying, and the vegetable lasagna had a buttery, mellow cheese that made his mouth water.
“So where do you think you’re from?” Caina asked as she poked a fork in the layered pasta.
Mrs. West glanced over at her, but she seemed to miss the warning.
Joshua answered, “Well, since I seem to know nothing about this colony, not here. I don’t know. I can’t even guess.”
“You still don’t remember anything?”
He shook his head. “I don’t. Just after the crash.”
“School stuff?”
“I have general knowledge, just not important details about myself.
Or how to cut tomatoes, apparently.”
“Your family? First birthday? Your friends?” Caina asked.
He moved his food around on his plate. “No, I wish.”
Mrs. West interjected, “I think Dr. Calloway’s conclusion is to just relax about it, and it will come later.”
“Pretty much,” Joshua agreed.
“How do you like school so far?” Mr. West asked.
Joshua answered the neutral question with relief.
“It’s good. I like it.” Belatedly, he realized neutral questions didn’t offer much in the way of conversation.
He waited for Caina to ask him another probing question, but she wasn’t paying attention. She was looking down at her wrist, probably reading a text from a friend. Mrs. West tapped her daughter’s arm with a slight frown and Caina lifted her head.
Mrs. West asked about the “agency”, politely avoiding the term orphanage, and Joshua filled in the conversation with stories of the younger children and what it was like to share a house with so many kids. He managed to be semi-entertaining, but Caina had stopped asking questions. Her mouth was solemn, and when she smiled at one of Johsua’s anecdotes, it was different, not as bright.
If her parents noticed, they kept it to themselves. Mrs. West suggested they go into the living room for dessert and a movie.
Mr. and Mrs. West sat together, with Caina next to them. Joshua sat on the end, which put Caina in the middle. They dimmed the lights and passed around bowls of ice cream, settling in on the couch.
It was a light family storyline, which he didn’t mind, although he found from the movies he’d seen at the agency home that he preferred more action. During a suspenseful section of the movie, he happened to look over at Caina. In the dark, a small tear ran down her cheek. The scene was not tender or even remotely touching, so he knew it wasn’t the movie.
Acting on a suspicion that had been growing since she stopped talking at dinner, in the dim light of the screen he reached out to take her wrist. He turned her wrist to look at her cell band. She looked over at him, startled, but didn’t pull away. He looked back at her and then scrolled through her messages. She didn’t stop him, though more tears began to fall. He found what he was looking for. A hot rush of anger coursed through him, and he wanted to erase the messages and punch the sender, or forget the messages and just punch the sender. He shared a long look with her before she turned away.