Annaka

by Andre Fenton

  “No. No, it wasn’t.” Clay laughed.

  Clay snapped his fingers and made it all disappear. He brought me back to the tree house. As we came back I could feel my stomach turn. We stared at each other for a few seconds, and then laughed beneath the stars. I wondered what else I could find out about Grampy. It was clear to me that not all of his stories were as he told them, but I guess people aren’t always the stories they tell, and sometimes you have to seek out the truth you’re after. I wanted to find out more.

  “You know a lot more about him, don’t you?” I asked.

  “I do,” Clay confirmed. “But we need to take it slow, you got a little nauseous last time, right?”

  “I was,” I said. “I’m feeling a bit queasy right now, to be honest.”

  “Then we should take a break.”

  He was right. I mean, it didn’t look like I was going anywhere for a while. I suppose taking things slow wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world, and to be honest I enjoyed the view we were sharing. I thought it was funny I found out the truth about Grampy meeting Nan. I was glad I got to unravel his ego a little bit, and I got to do it with an old friend.

  Clay turned to look at me. He didn’t say anything at first but looked up towards the stars. “Is it true you can’t see the stars in the city?” he asked.

  “For the most part, yes.”

  “Why would anyone want to live there?”

  “I asked myself that for ten years.”

  I sighed. “I missed so much about this place.”

  “Then why don’t you want to stay?” Clay asked.

  That was a good question. But admiring your hometown doesn’t mean you want to live in it forever.

  “I used to love this place—so, so much. But now that I’m back, I feel like I came back to a memory that doesn’t really…remember me,” I tried to explain. “I’ve always been a seeker, trying to find meaning in one thing or another.” I looked at the journal. “And I always wanted to learn more about my grandfather. Seeing his journal entry labelled ‘Coming to Canada’ makes me want to figure out more. But knowing that he tore pages out…who knows.”

  “That could be the next adventure you seek,” Clay suggested.

  “I remember I spent a lot of time seeking you, out here. Remember our classic hide-and-seek games? They would last hours.” I poked him and smiled.

  “I always won.”

  “Oh, sorry. Not everyone can turn invisible.” I shook my head and laughed.

  “I miss those days.” He grinned.

  “What’s the harm in giving it another go?” I threw that thought into the universe.

  “Aren’t you too old for that type of thing?”

  “Clearly I’m not too old for an imaginary friend.”

  “Clearly.” He grinned. “All right, I’ll take you up on that.”

  Clay and I slid down the ladder of the tree house. Once I got to the bottom I asked, “All right then, who’s It?”

  I looked over and Clay had already vanished.

  “I guess that’s me.”

  I turned to the tree and covered my eyes. Everything felt surreal. I took a breath and began to count.

  “One.”

  The first year away had been the hardest. I thought about Clay every day. I thought about Nan and Grampy every day too. Adjusting was really difficult. I didn’t like Halifax. You couldn’t see the stars when the moon made its way to the sky. Mom said it was because of the lights all around. But to me, it was because there was nothing magic about that place. There was too much noise. We lived in a small apartment where you could hear people talking and music playing from the bar nearby all night. I just wanted to be home, with a lake and a tree house. We never did visit that summer.

  “Two.”

  The second year we were away, Mom said we would visit Yarmouth that summer instead. I was excited to see Clay, and I remember waiting through the entire winter thinking that the warm weather would bring me home. But once summer hit, Mom was behind—she had been working full time on top of going to school. She ended up doing a summer semester and couldn’t get any time off. I was heartbroken, and I think she was too. Not because we couldn’t go, but because she broke a promise to me. I remember feeling so awful. I cried for two weeks. I knew Clay would be waiting. I just knew he was. I had told him I would be back soon, and now I was heartbroken because I knew I let him down.

  “Three.”

  I made my first real friend. Her name was Cassie, and for a while she was the only friend I had. I wasn’t the most talkative person in class because back in Yarmouth everyone had made fun of my name because it was different. When I started school in Halifax I didn’t want to be Annaka anymore. I just wanted to be Anna. Mom was always a bit upset about my name change—she told me the name Annaka meant a lot to her, but I never thought to ask why. I guess I thought maybe I would just…find out some day.

  “Four.”

  It was the first time I ever asked about my father. My family tree was always missing a piece, considering that Mom kept it a mystery. I always thought that time would fill the space but deep down, a part of me felt like we were running from the void. I remember seeing Mom’s reaction to the question she wasn’t ready for. She was painting a portrait, and she stopped immediately. She brought me to the living room of the apartment and said we don’t always need to know about the unknown, and that it’s better to focus on the people who are around you. I remember the way she said, “Lingering on those thoughts won’t do you good.” I couldn’t help it; I was still curious, and as Grampy would say, my imagination got the better of me. But I always believed it was the best part of me. I spent so much time wondering if I had my father’s face, smile, nose, teeth, or eyes. For a long time I was troubled not knowing the other part of me.

  “Five.”

  Mom graduated university. A part of me was relieved, because I hoped that meant we would return home. Spoiler alert: we didn’t. We just moved into a bigger apartment and Mom bought a minivan. There was always so much space in that thing, but Mom used it for art supplies instead of road trips. We didn’t end up going home; in fact, Mom just kept getting busier and busier. That summer she started getting commissions for a gallery in Ottawa, so she spent a lot of time creating while I was spending more time wishing on stars I couldn’t see. I would spend most nights on the roof of our new place, trying to sketch out the universe in a new journal. It wasn’t like back home, back when I could easily look up and draw a night sky full of stars. In Halifax, I was just laying on a rooftop looking into loneliness.

  “Six.”

  Cassie’s entire family moved to Toronto because her Dad was offered a government job there. That was a hard year; without Cassie I was basically friendless. Meeting new people always felt overwhelming and I was way too shy to socialize. I thought about Clay a lot, but I had a feeling he was gone. There was no way that he would stick around waiting for me at that point. Each school day felt like a get in, get out scenario. I was good at keeping a low profile, but its not like people cared about what I had to say anyways.

  “Seven.”

  That year Mom managed to make waves across the country. She was shortlisted for a pretentious visual arts award, and actually ended up winning. She was awarded fifteen grand, and I remember our mailbox flooded with fan mail. Mom was getting commission gig after commission gig, which made life pretty easy for a while, even though I didn’t get to see her too much. I was getting old enough to hold down the fort while she was away. But of course, that made me feel pretty lonely after a while.

  “Eight.”

  We found out Nan was showing early signs of memory loss. I didn’t hit me right away, because, to be honest, I didn’t really know what “memory loss” meant. Mom was worried, but she was still busy travelling the country and we couldn’t go back home. I spent even more time alone in the apartment. I guess
I found a lot of comfort in TV. I came across the old sitcoms Nan and I watched when I was kid, which led me to ask Mom if I could call and talk to Nan. She told me not to. I didn’t know why, but now I think she might have been scared that Nan wouldn’t remember me.

  “Nine.”

  For the first time ever, I asked about my family’s history. Mom said Grampy was from England, and that he came to Canada when he was a boy. His mother died shortly after they arrived, and my heart broke when I heard that, thinking how alone he must have felt. Mom told me that we have a lot of family overseas, but Grampy never figured out how to contact them. I wondered if they ever tried to contact him. It was also my first year of high school, and it didn’t take long for people to figure out who my mom was. That’s when everything changed. I was no longer Anna; I was now Anna Brooks. Everyone in my high school knew who I was, and every student who wanted to pursue the arts invited me to their parties. But each party I went to, I felt more alone than ever. Then Mom was offered a professor position at NSCAD, which she took in a heartbeat. She was so excited to have a stable income. It made things a lot easier—she no longer had to worry about which commissions would pay rent. But my heart was still aiming to hit back home eventually.

  “Ten,” I whispered. “I’m home.”

  Most my life, I’ve been surrounded by shadows and silhouettes. Smoke, mirrors, stage lights, and sound effects. I always believed it to be magic. I’ve spent way too long trying to draw a line between reality and fantasy, and for once, I just wanted someone, anyone to dissolve the mystery that has been my life. Maybe I’d never met my father, or come to terms with Mom. Maybe I’d never have a meaningful conversation with my grandmother again, and maybe I’d never finish school. But maybe I could figure this one thing out. Maybe I could be in control, just for once in my life. But I found him, he was the time traveller, and I was the seeker. And we would unravel the truth for what it really is.

  Chapter 8

  “Why did you skip class to go kick over mannequins?” I heard Tia’s voice as I shut my locker the next morning. She was leaning against the one next to mine with a raised eyebrow.

  Shit, I thought. Of course Taylor told Tia I was at the mall.

  “Oh. Uh,” I stammered, not making eye contact. “I, um, left most of my clothes in Halifax…I honestly just needed a bit of a wardrobe update.”

  Tia narrowed her eyes. “Yeah, with men’s dress shirts that are two times your size?” Tia looked me in the eye. “What’s going on, Anna? You know you can talk to me. And you could borrow my clothes if you need anything.”

  “Nothing out of the ordinary, I promise you,” I said lightly, trying to play it off.

  “Then why were you trying to start a revolution at Wade’s Clothing?” Tia asked, half joking, half serious. “You know I’d be down to throw a couple bricks.”

  “I wasn’t ‘starting a revolution’ at Wade’s Clothing,” I replied. We started walking towards class. “I’m working on an art project with Mom…and we needed some material.”

  “Uh huh,” Tia said, still not buying it. “Whatever’s going on, you know you can talk to me, right?”

  “Right.” I let out a breath while Tia’s eyes lingered on me. I couldn’t tell her about Clay, and buying him clothes. How safe would that be?

  “You know I’m the one who breaks the rules, right?” She grinned. “Because I’m the one who knows how to not get caught.”

  She was right about that. Tia takes school seriously, but she also knows how to get away with just about anything. I threw my bag over my shoulder and a piece of paper fluttered from it.

  Tia bent to pick it up and said, “Wait, what?” She scanned the paper again. “You got an invitation to Bobby Noah’s party?” She looked stunned.

  “Yeah, he came up to my truck yesterday like a dork,” I explained as we walked into the classroom. We sat down at our desks. The bell still hadn’t rung, and we had a few minutes before class actually started.

  Tia looked at me eagerly. “And? Are you going?” Did getting an invitation from Bobby Noah save me from being interrogated about my shopping habits? Because if so, I was okay with that.

  “I don’t know…parties aren’t really my thing.” I sighed.

  “What?! No way.” Tia’s face lit up with excitement. “I’m going to be your plus one!”

  That made me laugh. “Why do you even wanna go?”

  “To ruin his night, of course. He hasn’t invited me to any parties since…the incident.”

  It was clear that it was Tia’s mission to ruin Bobby Noah’s life, and girls have to stick together, so I was in. After all, I had never gotten over the irony of a dude with two first names having the nerve to make fun of mine.

  “All right, all right.” I laughed. “Looks like you’ll be my plus one.”

  “That’s the spirit.” Tia smiled.

  Once the bell rang, the classroom filled with students. I didn’t plan to stay, I just wanted to keep my head down long enough to be checked off as present during attendance.

  As if she read my mind, Tia asked, “Are you staying the full day today?” She poked me. We were in English and the teacher was new, unprepared, and wasn’t coming across well. This was supposed to be Grampy’s class; that was reason enough for me to not want to be there.

  “Actually, I think I’m going to get out of here,” I told her.

  “Dude…you can’t keep leaving. They’ll call your house eventually, I bet you’re already on thin ice.”

  I scoffed. “What are they going to do? Expel me? My grandfather’s photo is in the lobby.”

  Tia didn’t reply, but I heard her sigh. I shouldn’t have said that. Tia just wanted to help.

  The new teacher was a younger-looking white dude named Mr. Davis. I could tell he didn’t have much experience. He could barely keep the room under control—students were throwing paper balls back and forth, talking over him, and clowning how high he wore his pants. It wasn’t funny but I couldn’t help giggling at Travis, the class clown, standing up and pulling his jogging pants up to his chest. There was enough commotion after that for me to sneak out and make my way back to the truck.

  Once I got in, I rolled down the window and drove towards the waterfront. I hoped I had been in the classroom long enough to be marked present, but when I heard my phone ping, I had a feeling it was a text from Tia. I pulled into a parking lot outside of an empty bar.

  Tia: FYI. Mr. Davis just had a major meltdown and left. Ms. Anderson came to take attendance.

  Shit. That meant the principal was probably going to call home. I hoped it wouldn’t be a big deal; I would explain to Mom that it was a mistake.

  Tia: Listen, I know you’re going through a lot. But please, if things get heavy you always have me. Never feel like you have to go through this alone.

  I couldn’t reply. I didn’t want to take advantage of Tia’s kindness with my dishonesty. It just didn’t feel right. I tossed my phone on the passenger seat and scanned the parking lot.

  I had planned on spending the day looking through more of Grampy’s journal entries, trying to decipher his handwriting. I still couldn’t believe he lied to me about how he met Nan. There had to be more in there. I had put the journal back in the glove compartment and was hoping Clay could show me more of my grandfather’s past. I grabbed the old journal and noticed that the cracked leather spine was barely held together.

  “This thing really got worn down over the years, didn’t it?”

  “Yeah.” Clay appeared without warning.

  I jumped and shouted, “Shit, man! You gotta stop doing things like that!”

  “It’s the only way I can.” He shrugged. “But yeah, the journal is in rough shape. I need you to be gentle with it. Don’t be one of those people who breaks the spines of books, please.”

  “I promise I’ll be gentle.”

  He nodded
. “Good.”

  I put the truck in drive and continued on my way. I hoped no one would see Clay in my passenger seat. I drove down to towards the water and parked out of view behind a bar no one went to during the day.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be in school right now?” Clay asked.

  “You sound like Grampy.” I sighed.

  “I partly am.”

  I rolled my eyes and opened the journal. I wonder what had kept Grampy journalling in the later years. For most people, the idea of journalling faded away before they hit the teens, but then, he had always liked keeping track of everything.

  I flipped to the back of the journal, skipping to an entry titled “October 2002.”

  I looked over to Clay, but he didn’t look too excited about this one.

  “Are you sure?” he asked, a look of hesitation on his face. What could be so bad about this one? I wondered. If it was anything like the first couple, I could probably use some popcorn and chocolate along the way.

  “Yes, I’m sure. Lets do it!” I was excited.

  “All right.” Clay shrugged. He extended an open palm in my direction. We touched and everything faded away. The darkness transformed into my grandparents’ kitchen. By the time the darkness faded I felt a little dizzy, but it wasn’t the dark place that made me feel nauseous; it was the shift in surroundings.

  I could see Grampy cooking pancakes while Nan watched television in the living room. She kept tapping the armrest next to the phone, as if she was waiting for a call.

  Grampy put the pancakes on a plate and brought them out to her. Nan looked pretty stressed out. I rarely ever saw her like that.

  “Did Jayla call this morning?” Grampy asked.

  “No. She didn’t.”

  “I can’t believe she left like that.” He shook his head and placed the pancakes on the coffee table. “It’s been three days and not even a phone call. It has to be that damn boy.”

  “I don’t know. It’s not like her to pull off a disappearing act,” Nan replied. She sighed. “Thank you for breakfast, hon. But I don’t think I can stomach any food right now. The stress is eating me.”