Annaka

by Andre Fenton

  “Come with me.” I pulled her back towards the small hole in the wall. I made sure she exited first, and I saw Jonathan snatch her up quickly.

  “There you are!” He embraced her. “You gotta stop running away, Tia.” He sounded frustrated.

  “You gotta get better at catching me,” Tia replied as I wriggled my way out.

  “That isn’t how it works.” Jonathan shook his head, but sounded relieved. He squeezed Tia into a tight hug again and she hugged him back.

  “Are you okay, Annaka?” he asked me.

  “I’m fine.” I got to my feet and wiped the dirt off my pants.

  “Good, sounds like you deserve an ice cream.” He smiled.

  “I want one too!” Tia shouted.

  “We’ll see about that,” Jonathan replied with a wink at me.

  Even though Tia could be a troublemaker, Jonathan was such a sucker for her. I smiled at how he hugged her, and rested his head on hers. It was a genuine moment between a father and daughter. It made me kind of sad. I never had that. I mean, I always had my grandfather, but I thought back to the idea of Blake, and I kept thinking about the time that we could have spent together. What if he had grown out of his bullshit? What if he had gone to school? What if he had tried to contact us but never could? Mom always told me not to dwell on those thoughts, but I couldn’t help clinging on to them. Why did my entire life have to be a mystery? It wasn’t fair.

  I stood there, watching Tia and Jonathan, as everything around us faded and the world shifted back into my truck, my hand still gripping Clay’s.

  “Are you okay? Do you feel nauseous?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “Okay, maybe a little.” I held my stomach. “Okay, maybe a lot.” I rolled down the window.

  “Oh, lord,” Clay said as he held my hair and I barfed out of the window, right in the bank parking lot.

  “Luckily no one is around,” Clay said as I lay back in the seat.

  I looked at Clay and grabbed the journal, flipping through the opposite end.

  “What are you doing?” he asked. “Maybe going back again wouldn’t be a great idea.”

  “It’s just….” I caught my breath. “Are you sure there isn’t anything else in there about my dad?”

  “I would know.” Clay replied, leaning over. “I’m taking the journal.”

  “Are you telling the truth?” I asked. I don’t know why I implied he was lying, I just remember him saying that he was worried about letting me down and I just wanted to know for sure.

  “Why wouldn’t I be telling the truth?” He frowned. “No. No, there isn’t.” He continued. “If there was, I would know.”

  “So all you know is that his name is Blake Morrison?”

  “Why do you want to chase after him?”

  “I’m not chasing after anyone. I just want to know.”

  Seeing Tia and Jonathan, I don’t know. Something in me clicked. I knew it was unlikely anything would come of it, but what was the harm in trying?

  “I just don’t think it’s worth the time.” Clay shrugged.

  Okay, that annoyed me. Clay couldn’t relate to what I was feeling.

  “That’s not fair,” I said. “You don’t know what its like not having a father.”

  “I can assume.”

  “No you can’t, you’re not even—” I caught myself before finishing that sentence.

  “Not even what?” he challenged. “Are you gonna finish that sentence?”

  “No.” I looked away from him, gripping the steering wheel.

  “You have no idea what I’ve been through. I spent more than half of my life being idle on your behalf, and you’re going to say that to me?”

  He was right. I shouldn’t have said that, it was an awful thing to say. I didn’t mean it, but that didn’t matter.

  “Do you know what it was like? I spent most of my life reliving memories that weren’t even mine, instead of creating my own. I never got to live out my own life; instead I had to relive parts of yours. Even then, it was only the parts you decided to record. Do you know how often I observed you and your grandfather going on those trips to Cape Forchu? The times your grandmother braided your hair? I’ve felt what you felt. I’ve seen what you’ve seen. Those memories live in me, just like they are in you. And you sit here and tell me it doesn’t matter because I’m not even real?!”

  “Clay, I—”

  But he was already gone. Vanished into thin air.

  Chapter 11

  I drove home filled with regret. Why did I keep pushing everyone away? Clay didn’t deserve that, and honestly? Maybe I was a little hard on Mom too. I kept wondering if there was anything I could have done differently with Clay…I knew I couldn’t have taken him to Halifax when we left; he would’ve been seen or caught. So instead he spent his time in Yarmouth, waiting. I thought about him watching all of our memories like the reruns of a sitcom. Just like I did when Mom was away. Over and over and over again. It didn’t sit well with me. No wonder he was hesitant to let me back into his world. He held the same resentment towards me that I held towards my mom. I wanted him to be more than a character in my story. He deserved more than that.

  I could see Mom in the backyard smoking a cigarette when I pulled up. I managed to sneak inside by going through the side door. I tried to get upstairs, but a voice called me down.

  “Young lady!” It was directed at me. “Young lady, get off the steps and come see me.”

  It was Nan’s voice. I could have ignored her, but something made me pause and turn around. She was sitting in the living room on a rocking chair. I sat down on the sofa, not really sure what to say. She smiled at me and said, “I see you around. What’s your name?” She seemed genuinely curious.

  So many emotions filled me: anxiousness, fear, sadness. She had no memory left of the times we sat in this very same room, watching cartoons on Saturday mornings. She helped me grow into the person I am, and yet here she was, asking me what my name was.

  “My name is Anna,” I said quietly.

  “Anna is a pretty name. You from around these parts?”

  I didn’t want to confuse her, and I knew if I told her I was from Yarmouth she would ask for a backstory, and who my people were. It hurt to lie, but I said, “I’m from Halifax.”

  “Halifax? My daughter wants to move there. She was always the artistic one of the family.” Nan leaned over and gave me a look. “But between you and me, I’d be heartbroken if she left us. I want her close.” She sat back in her chair again and said, “If you have family, Anna, stay close to them. Because at the end of the day, that’s all we’ve really got. When the rest of the world falls apart, they will be the only ones who will pick you back up.”

  I instantly thought about Clay. He had picked me up, even after I left him behind. When he saw me panicking he gave me a place to rest, and after my fight with Mom, he was the first person to let me vent. I thought about that night we both sat in the truck and he held on to me as I bawled. His world fell apart when I decided to leave him behind, but I left him behind with barely a second thought. He had been stuck here, alone and away from me, but when the tables were turned and I needed a shoulder to cry on, he was there. God, now I felt even worse about saying what I said in the truck.

  “Thanks for the advice.” I stood up to leave.

  I went upstairs to hide away in my room to let those thoughts sink in. At least Nan still had her wisdom; if only there was a way we could go back in time and collect the rest of her.

  I waited until the sun went down to make my way to the truck in the garage. I grabbed the journal from the glove compartment and held it, contemplating my position. I felt like a coward because I knew Clay harboured resentment towards me. The same type of resentment I held against my mom. I realized I wasn’t that different from her, and maybe I should have been more empathic, like Clay was to me
. I stashed the journal back in the glove compartment and walked down to the lake to skips rocks across the water, hoping it would clear my mind.

  But it didn’t.

  Guilt, shame, and regret filled every part of me, and seeing each rock sink reminded me there was no way this whole Clay thing was going to end with the two of us riding off into the sunset. He couldn’t remain a secret forever.

  As I threw another rock my surroundings faded into darkness, the sky, trees, and house were replaced with darkness, and as the rock landed it bounced on the sheet of ice that had formed. I wasn’t stupid; I knew Clay was playing with the edges of his reality, mixing them with mine.

  “Clay,” I called out. “I know you’re there.”

  I could see the Milky Way expanding above my head while I stepped onto the ice and slid forward.

  “I wanna see you.”

  “I’m right here,” I heard from behind me.

  I turned and saw his warm face, grey skin, and dark eyes.

  “Hey, Clay—” I began.

  “I know,” was all he said.

  “No, no. Please, I actually have to talk this out.”

  “That memory about your dad still irking you?”

  “It’s about you.” I let out a breath. “You were mad at me. I didn’t put as much thought into that as I should have.”

  “Oh, Anna—”

  “No, Clay. I’ve been thinking a lot about it. I’ve been preaching about how I always felt that I was an afterthought on Mom’s great journey…but Clay. I left you here. I left you here alone for so long.” My eyes welled up as I said aloud what I had been thinking for weeks. “A part of me always assumed you would move on from here—go somewhere else. I should have taken you with us. I know it would have been hard and weird, but I promised you when I was a kid that I would always take care of you. And I didn’t.”

  I could see him left out a breath. He moved past me, sliding on the ice with his back turned.

  “That was a hard time,” he began. “I stayed up most nights looking down the driveway, wondering when you’d be back.” A replica driveway appeared out of the darkness in the direction Clay was looking off to. “I didn’t have much human interaction. Most of the time I spent reliving your journal entries, and eventually I went through your grandfather’s. I feel like I lived a part of his life as well as yours.” He turned back to me and made eye contact. “After a while, I just assumed you had moved on. Thought that you weren’t ever going to come back.”

  “I know, and I feel so guilty because of it,” I began. “I mean, I resent Mom for taking me away from everything I love. But I did so much worse to you. I left you here. By yourself. We’ve been avoiding this conversation, but why don’t you resent me the same way?”

  Clay let out a breath. “I did resent you,” he said. “For a long time. I went back to relive the memories we shared over and over and over, hoping one day we would reunite. But that day didn’t come. I grew older and got used to a world that was never meant for me.” He looked down. “I’m not like you, Anna. I can’t go to school, I can’t meet new friends, I can’t go shopping. I’m stuck here, in this dark place of reliving nostalgic parts of my short life.” Clay looked me dead in the eye and said, “To call me an outsider is an understatement.”

  “Then why are you giving me a second chance?” I asked, sliding on the ice. I know I begged him for one, but that didn’t mean I deserved it. I needed to hear it from him.

  Clay closed his eyes, and I knew there was hurt inside him. There was a knot he was having trouble unravelling; a truth he wanted to speak. I was ready. If he wanted to tell me to screw off for the rest of eternity, I would understand.

  “That night when I left, and said I couldn’t be your best friend right now,” Clay let out. “I knew I couldn’t navigate through that pain, I couldn’t let it flow through me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I owe it to myself to hold space for something other than pain,” he whispered. “Was that the answer you were looking for?”

  That wasn’t what I expected, but it sent a wave of empathy through my heart. I wished I could be more like that. Like him.

  “I…uh…I’m sorry, Clay.”

  “I know.” He looked at me. “I know.”

  We let silence fill the air between us. There were still so many thoughts and feelings I had, but didn’t know how to bring up. I eventually asked, “So, my grandparents never seen you?” it felt silly to ask him that again, but I wanted to know for sure.

  “No. At least I don’t think,” he replied. “I watched over them, like I knew you’d want me to. When your Nan began losing her memory, I picked up on it quick. She kept going to go the grocery store to buy eggs.” Clay lifted his hand and a circular portal appeared. I could see the fridge. Grampy opened it to reveal what looked like a dozen cartons of eggs. Concern lined his face instantly.

  “That’s how it began. When Rudy came home after a weekend away at an English teacher’s conference.” Clay swiped his hand and the portal disappeared. “Over time it got worse,” he continued. “It got pretty bad a year later on their anniversary.”

  Clay moved his hand to form another portal.

  “Grampy wrote about this?”

  “No. But somewhere within the ten years I learned how to keep track on my own. I got stronger, learned more about this all while I was alone.”

  Inside the portal I could see Grampy holding a small box wrapped up with a bow. He handed it to my grandmother, his face tense. Nan opened the box—inside was picture frame with a photo of the four of us, Grampy, Nan, Mom, and me, standing in front of the house. Nan had a warm smile as she observed the photo. Then she asked, “Who’s this little girl?”

  My heart sank to my stomach; I was the first person she forgot. Now I knew why Mom never wanted me to call her. I began getting teary-eyed as the colour in Grampy’s face evaporated.

  “Tanya, quit playin’,” he said instantly.

  “What are you talking about?” Nan frowned, looking back up to Grampy.

  “Tanya, that’s our granddaughter. Annaka.”

  “Annaka? But she isn’t our granddaughter. I thought you didn’t like to talk about her.” Nan’s eyes were clearly confused, as she looked back up at my grandfather.

  That confusion made its way towards me. What did she mean?

  “No, I don’t mean her.” Grampy breathed heavily, when he reached up to wipe the sweat from his forehead, I saw his hands were shaking.

  “It’s been a while since she left,” Nan observed. “Do you still think about her?”

  “Clay, who is she talking about?” I asked.

  “No idea.” Clay waved his hand, making the portal fade away. “Maybe she got her names confused? There’s nothing in the journal about another Annaka.”

  “But Grampy seems to know one? There has to be something.” I flipped through the pages of the journal.

  “You can look all you want, but I’ve been through that thing more times than you can count. If anything, it would have to do with the missing pages.”

  I flipped until I made it to the page titled “Coming to Canada.” I turned to the next page but there was nothing there; the pages had been torn out.

  “They were torn out a long, long time ago,” Clay said. “It’s a gap in your grandfather’s story.”

  “You mean torn out before I created you?”

  “Yes.” He took the journal back into his hands. “I’ve searched. I’ve gone to places I shouldn’t have, and I still couldn’t put the pieces together.”

  I knew Grampy was secretive about his past, but if that somehow led to what Nan was talking about, I wanted to learn more. I had to unravel it. I just had to unravel something. Maybe this was my great journey. And I was happy to have a friend like Clay to guide me along the path.

  Chapter 12

 
“You checked his study?” I asked. We were still on the ice in the darkness.

  “Yup.”

  “The basement?”

  “Yes.”

  “Garage? Attic? Bedroom?”

  “Anna, I’ve checked all those places.”

  “What did Nan mean by ‘Annaka is not our granddaughter’?” I paraphrased. “Take me back,” I walked away from the ice.

  Clay let out a breath and followed. The world around us turned into reality again. I walked into the house but Mom and Nan were nowhere to be found—must have gone to sleep.

  I went straight to Grampy’s study. I expected to see his desk, his shelves full of books, I expected to see everything that reminded me of him. But I didn’t see any of that. His desk was gone, replaced by a canvas facing the back wall. All his books from his shelves were missing, sculptures big and small in their place. The sculptures that had filled the living room back in our apartment in Halifax.

  Mom had moved everything.

  “She must have come in here when you were gone today,” Clay observed.

  “I should have figured as much.” I clenched my fist. I wanted to break it all. All her sculptures, that stupid canvas. The study had been the last place that had any sign of Grampy left, and at that moment, the world proved to me that he really was gone. I fell to my knees and felt a sudden sadness I couldn’t break free from. All of his stuff was gone.

  Clay knelt down beside me and placed a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t give up yet. His stuff has to be around somewhere. She wouldn’t just throw it away. Maybe it just hurt for her to see it all in here.”

  Maybe it did hurt for Mom to see all of those things, but I didn’t even get a say in what happened. She didn’t tell me she was moving any of his things. She just packed everything up and put it God knows where. Did she throw it out? Did she donate it? I couldn’t always be left in the dark just because some topics were difficult to talk about. I deserved to know.

  “Goddammit!” I stormed out of the room and Clay followed. “Who was Annaka? Where is my dad?” I headed for the front porch and put my head down on the journal, feeling defeated.