Annaka

by Andre Fenton

  “I’m sorry that happened, Anna.” Clay sat down beside me. “We don’t realize how much the little things impact us after losing someone, but we also need to stay focused on what’s important here.”

  “This is important. Finding my dad is important. Finding out about my grandfather is important. And if the world wants to create more mysteries, I’ll see them through.” I know I was being stubborn, but sometimes I had to be.

  I thought coming back home would give me some answers, but it only created more questions. I let out a breath. I looked up to the moon and saw it was almost full. I closed my eyes and took in deep breaths. I walked towards the ladder under the tree house and climbed up. Clay followed. I lay back, hoping the stars would help me feel grounded.

  “I always hated my name, y’know? I never liked being called Annaka.”

  “Why?” Clay asked, lying down beside me.

  “Kids used to make fun of me because it was different,” I told him. “All through elementary here, they told me my name was stupid, or it was dumb because it was different. It wasn’t like other names.”

  “How come you never told me?”

  “I guess…that’s why I made you. That day under the desk. I stayed inside at recess because kids were making fun of my name. I was embarrassed, I guess. All my life I just wanted to fit in, but I always felt different. Everyone always seemed to think it was weird that I spent more time writing in my journal than I did playing on playgrounds. Not many people understood. Well, Tia did, but besides her, the rest of the students in school made my life hell,” I let out. “It was that dumb idiot Bobby Noah who started it all. Did I tell you he invited me to his party coming up?” I rolled my eyes. “Grampy always loved my name and I never knew why. I kept it for him, despite the bullying. But when I got to Halifax, I wanted to fit in. I just wanted to be Anna. Why are people so awful?” I looked over to Clay.

  “I wish I knew.” Clay put a hand on my shoulder. “I really do.”

  “I wish I wasn’t so different.”

  “I don’t,” he whispered. “I like you for who you are.”

  I smiled. “I’m glad someone does.”

  “I’m not the only one.”

  “Do you think that Annaka was a real person? Grampy must have wrote about her, right?”

  “Maybe.” Clay stood up. “Maybe she’s in the pages he tore out?”

  “I wish I understood that man.” I got up too.

  “We’ll figure it out, I promise, but it’s getting late. You should probably get some sleep. We can start fresh in the morning.” Clay walked towards the ladder.

  I stood there for a minute, watching him. Once he noticed I was still there, he looked back. “You gonna get some sleep?”

  “I’m not tired.” I shrugged. “Not yet.”

  It was like he could read my mind because he sighed and said, “You want to go back, don’t you?”

  “I just…I do. Just nothing too heavy.”

  “Well, the floor is yours.” He pointed to the journal in in front of me.

  I picked it up and flipped through. I wanted to go to an easier time, not something too complicated. I found one that held a soft place in my heart: a sketch I made years ago of me sitting on the front porch as Nan braided my hair.

  By the time I looked over to Clay, his hand was already extended.

  “We’re getting pretty good at this, aren’t we?” I said with a smile.

  I extended my hand, and we met half way. Everything around us disappeared. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Then suddenly I could feel my hair being pulled.

  “Ow!” I yelled.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, babe. There was a knot, but you’re doing great!” I knew that voice. I looked up to see Nan with a fistful of my hair.

  The garden outside was alive, and ants were crawling in every direction towards the steps, but the traps kept them away. I tried to be as still as I could but I still laughed under the warm sun.

  “Screaming one second and laughing the next.” Nan smiled.

  “You do them too tight,” I replied.

  “That was only one time. I’m a professional now. You have a healthy head of hair, and we’re gonna keep it that way.” She kissed my head.

  I loved having braids. Always did, Mom wasn’t as good as Nan when it came to braiding, and Grampy didn’t have any idea how to do it at all. But it felt nice to be remembered, and to feel her tightening them again.

  “I love you, Nan,” I said randomly.

  “I love you too, sweetie.”

  I could feel her breath on the back of my neck. I wished I could stay there forever.

  “Anddddd, we are all finished here sweetie.” Nan held up a mirror. A little girl looked back at me, sitting with her grandmother on the front porch. Back when life was easy and the occasional knot in my hair was the only thing I had to worry about.

  Nan stood up and said, “Well, I’m about to head in and make some coffee, hon.”

  “I want a coffee too,” I said, knowing how she would reply.

  “You’re too young to be caffeinated. Hot chocolate for you.”

  It was the middle of summer, but I wanted that hot chocolate.

  Inside, I sat and watched Nan put sugar in my hot chocolate, then add an inch of milk, then a piece of dark chocolate from her stash. The secret ingredient.

  “Come and get it, sweetie.” She put it on a coaster for me.

  I remembered this day. Grampy had taken Mom into town to get some shopping done. It was close to Nan’s birthday and they wanted to surprise her with a new TV. I peeked under the table and saw a younger Clay sitting beneath. I put my cup below and he took a sip. We always shared.

  Nan made herself a cup of coffee and made her way to the living room. She put on the TV. It was mostly just static, but eventually it got to some fuzzy sitcoms. She sat in her rocking chair and I lay on the carpet. I looked to the left and could see Clay under the kitchen table. He could see the TV from that angle. We sat for what felt like hours, not really saying much—but we didn’t need to. I missed this version of Nan, the one who was the captain of the ship, gentle, loving, the beating heart of the house. I moved onto her lap, and she wrapped her arms around me and gave me a big kiss on the cheek.

  “I miss you, so, so much.” I spoke softly.

  “Honey, what do you mean? I haven’t gone anywhere,” she whispered as I closed my eyes.

  When I opened them again, I was back in the present, sitting in the tree house with Clay. I let out a breath, wishing the present wasn’t so difficult. I noticed one thing though, when I came back to the present this time I didn’t feel the motion sickness I had before. Maybe I was getting used to this whole thing. It even put me at ease. I didn’t feel angry anymore, I just felt calm for the first time in a while. I thought about Nan again—the present-day version. She was only a shadow of herself. Not the woman who held me tight, braided my hair, and knew how to make the perfect cup of hot chocolate.

  But then I had a rush of an idea. My eyes widened.

  “Can we bring her back?” I asked.

  Clay looked at me as if I was out of my mind. Maybe I was. But it was worth talking about.

  “How? What do you mean?”

  “Is there a way that we can restore her memories?” I stood up and started pacing the tree house. I was half excited, half scared. But I hadn’t thought about it before.

  “Are you…asking if I can cure Alzheimer’s?” Clay frowned.

  I stopped pacing and looked at him. “I think it’s worth a shot.” I shrugged. Why not give it a chance?

  “You barely know how any of this works.”

  “Well, I think I’m getting the hang of it,” I replied.

  “I don’t know if it would work, Anna. You know much it drains you.”

  “But I feel fine this time! I don’t h
ave any body aches or anything!” I waved my arms to show him.

  “Yes, but unlike you, your grandmother isn’t sixteen years old.” Clay shook his head. “Who knows what would happen when I bring her back.”

  That was true. But maybe, just maybe, taking Nan back would restore some of her memories? Maybe reliving them would help her remember in the present.

  “I just want my grandmother back.” I thought for a moment. “Is there another way you can take people back?”

  “What do you mean?” Clay raised an eyebrow.

  “Your hand.” I grabbed it. “When we touch, the memories extend all around us. What if you condense it? What if you condense it in such a way that it doesn’t impact the body as hard as it impacted me?”

  “I’ve never tried that before.”

  “You’ve never had anyone to try that on,” I corrected. “Why don’t you let me be that test subject?”

  Clay took his hand back. “That sounds dangerous.”

  “Nothing’s dangerous if you’re in control.” I grinned. “Why don’t we give it a try?”

  Clay turned and walked away from me. I don’t think he knew the full extent of his powers. But the way I saw it, the only way to find out was to challenge what he already knew. I wondered why Clay wasn’t as eager as I was; he spent most of his life here with that power. It’s clear he was comfortable, but if you get too comfortable you’ll never move forward.

  “So…is that a yes, or a no?”

  “It’s a maybe.” Clay turned back to look. “If we do this—and that is a big if—I need some time to see if I can actually pull it off. Give me a week?” Clay put his hands in front of his face. “I’d hate to mess this up.”

  “Okay.”

  I had no idea if this would work, but I knew we had to try. If there was a way we could restore Nan’s memory, we had to.

  Chapter 13

  Clay distanced himself for the next week. I had no idea what his process was, so instead of prying I tried to respect his boundary. I spent most of that week—when I wasn’t at school or avoiding Mom—searching the house, hoping to find my grandfather’s torn-out journal pages. I went to the basement one night and ended up discovering all the things Mom had moved from his study. I was thankful none of it had been thrown out. I went through file after file after file. No luck. I kept thinking about what Nan had said in that memory about the other Annaka, and Grampy not wanting to talk about it. Maybe if the plan to bring Nan’s memory back worked, I could even ask her? But that was thinking too far ahead.

  As I looked through a box of papers, I could hear creaking from the ceiling. When I looked up, dust hit me on the forehead. It must have been Mom or Nan moving around upstairs—it was getting close to her bedtime. Maybe I should touch base with Clay to see where he was at regarding our plan.

  “Hey.”

  I startled and fell back onto the floor, only to see his silhouette. “Goddammit, dude. We spoke about you not doing that, remember?”

  “I do,” Clay said with a laugh. “I didn’t make any promises.”

  “Clearly.” He helped me to my feet.

  “Have you found anything?”

  “Old assignments, lesson plans, a syllabus…no journal entries.”

  “I could have told you that.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I said, a bit embarrassed. “Have you come to a conclusion on your end?” I hoped Clay could pull this off.

  “I think I know how.”

  My heart skipped a beat. Yes! “All right, well Mom’s taking Nan to bed, and she’ll probably go to sleep herself shortly after. Why don’t we get started?”

  Clay seemed hesitant. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  “Yes.” There was no room for doubt if we planned to move forward.

  Clay sighed. “You know there are…risks.”

  I knew the risks more than anyone else. I knew this process would put Nan in physical and mental danger. It might worsen what she was already going through, or it might cause her harm in other ways. But we had an opportunity to bring her back. My heart told me we needed to try.

  “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” I said.

  I walked upstairs with the journal in my hand. I knew Clay would follow. I headed to the backyard to see the moon reflected on the lake. The spring night was calm.

  “So…how are you going do it?” I asked.

  “I’ll pick a page in the journal, and focus my energy on your mind instead of your surroundings. The memories should fall into place like puzzle pieces.”

  “So…you need to pick something I don’t remember?”

  “Yes,” Clay said, looking straight into my eyes. “Are you ready?”

  “I should be asking you that,” I said as he took the journal from me.

  Clay stepped back and flipped through a bunch of pages. He finally asked, “What were you thinking about the day you and Tia had a sleepover and she almost found me?”

  “Ohhh…I half remember that.” I was putting the pieces back together. “We were in my room, and she opened my closet. She saw your measurements on the wall next to mine, and thought it was weird I took measurements of an imaginary friend. Then I explained that I did have an imaginary friend, but I remember you refusing to show yourself. So she just thought I was being a dork.”

  “At least I was being consistent.” Clay shrugged. “So we’re clearly not going to go with that one.” Clay flipped to another page. “Okay, okay,” he said. “What about Tia’s birthday party. Ring any bells?”

  “Probably eating cake or playing video games at Tia’s?” I couldn’t remember specifics; I’ve been to a lot of Tia’s birthdays.

  “So you don’t remember too much, then?”

  “Can’t say I do.” I shrugged.

  “Then this is the one.”

  Clay closed the book. He looked nervous. Ultimately, he had no idea if this would actually work. He extended a hand, and instead of his eyes glowing blue, the air around him glowed. And then the glow began to extend in my direction. I looked directly into it. I felt the energy focus like wind; I could feel my braids lift into the air.

  “Close your eyes,” Clay said in a soft voice.

  When I did, I was in Tia’s living room. There were snacks everywhere, and Lucy was playing pin the tail on the donkey. I could see it all so clearly, and it was happening all so fast, my head filled with thoughts so quickly. Everything I was feeling was rushing through me all at once. I felt anxious, excited, and nervous. I had always been shy, and being around other kids wasn’t always ideal for me. Tia understood that, though. I stood in the corner of her living room, away from the rest of the party.

  “Hey, Annaka, get over here!” I heard her voice as she grabbed my hand, pulling me towards the game.

  “What’s going on?” I could hear Clay’s voice from the real world.

  “I’m thinking how silly you would look playing pin the tail on the donkey,” I replied.

  “Focus,” he said nervously.

  Clay was all business with this task. I knew he was scared that I might get hurt, but everything was going fine. I could see everything so seamlessly.

  As I stood in line for my turn at pin the tail on the donkey, time suddenly sped up. It felt like everything was on fast-forward. From Tia’s birthday cake, to the gifts, to the games, it all entered my mind at high speed, connecting dots that had become disconnected a long time ago.

  “I think I got it,” I finally said.

  Clay closed his grip, and when he did it felt like all the wind was sucked out of me. I fell to my knees but caught myself before I face-planted. It felt like waking up from a dream, when you’re temporarily disoriented by the sudden changes in time and space.

  He ran over and immediately demanded, “Anna! Are you okay?!”

  “I’m fine, it just…it felt kind
of like I was dreaming.”

  That was when the pounding headache started.

  “Owww,” I said, clutching my head. “I didn’t expect the massive headache.”

  “Yeah, I kind of figured that might happen.” Clay crossed his arms and regarded me closely. “Too much activity in your head at once. Instead of your entire body experiencing it, it’s focused in one spot. I guess it’s replacing the body aches. Can you stand?”

  I got to my feet. “It isn’t as bad as the body aches, but it still sucks.”

  “So…,” Clay ventured.

  “So what?”

  “What did you give Tia for her birthday?”

  Right. There was this part. I closed my eyes. What did I remember? I tried not to think too hard, to let the thoughts come to me organically.

  “I got her…I got her a slingshot! And her dad took it away instantly.” I smiled at the memory. “I remember that clear as day now.”

  Clay handed me the journal, and said, “See for yourself.”

  I grabbed it and read aloud:

  “February third. Today Grampy drove me over to Tia’s place for her birthday. There were a lot of other girls from school there, Laura, Lucy, Taylor. We all sat in the living room and tried pin the tail on the donkey. I thought it would have been nice to bring Clay, I couldn’t stop thinking about how silly he would look playing with all of us. I’m sure he would love it. I gave Tia a slingshot for her birthday but Jonathan took it away as soon as he seen it. He was no fun, but there was a lot of cake and ice cream. Tia wasn’t too sad about the slingshot but I really wanted her to have it. Maybe she could have it again when she gets older.”

  Above the entry there was a sketch of the living room. It showed Tia blindfolded while the other girls and I looked on.

  “Wow,” I said, scanning the page again. I looked back up at Clay. “It worked!”

  If that had worked, then we could try the same thing with Nan. Of course, not all entries could apply to her, but what if we brought her to the memories she was in? Like braiding my hair? Or watching TV with me? Or an entry of Grampy’s, like when he found out Mom was pregnant with me? We were onto something, and we were going to get her back.