Memory Girl (12 page)

Milly loves to cook,
I think, as I slip out of the room. I don't have much experience cooking, but it can't be that hard. After only two wrong turns, I find the large kitchen downstairs. No one else is awake yet, thankfully. I'll surprise my new Family with a hot breakfast.

Flapcakes are the only breakfast food I know how to make. I've helped Instructor Penny crack eggs and whip a golden liquid into a creamy batter. I search cupboards for ingredients: flour, eggs, and milk. The eggs are fresh from the Hu Family chickens, and the milk is creamy. I find bowls and utensils, then mix and blend into a batter. But it's not thick and tastes bland.

Following a recipe book seems unimaginative, so I do
what I always do when tackling a challenge.

I go outside.

At the Edu-Center, it's a short walk into the woods to find spicy herbs. But this part of the island is rockier and thicker with brush. Beyond the Fence, dense woods with treetops stretch into the sky. I now live near the most dangerous edge of ShareHaven, where beasts roam beyond the Fence gate. As the only entrance into our community, it's locked and guarded.

A gravel path curves behind the vehicle storage building, toward neat gardens with row after row of vegetation. A golden-red glow softens the sky and warms my arms as I bend down, studying the plants. I recognize grape vines, corn stalks, and strings of green beans. I whoop with joy when I spot a red-stemmed plant. Cinnasweet is a hybrid of cinnamon and sugar. I sniff the rich sweetness, then pluck a few leaves and tuck them in my tunic pocket.

Smiling to myself, I head back to the kitchen.

I set to work, crushing the leaves then pouring them into my mixture. I add more flour to thicken the batter, whipping it with a wooden spoon until my arm aches. I smile at my creation, then flip flapcakes on a griddle. They're lumpy and more dirt-brown than golden, but they smell delicious.

Rosemarie's eyes widen when she sees setting utensils arranged neatly around the table and a steaming stack of flapcakes.

“Graces good, this looks amazing!” she exclaims. “Did you do all this yourself?”

I nod proudly.

“This is wonderful!” She hugs me like we really are sisters. “No one has surprised me with a hot breakfast since … not
since Milly.”

“Really? Milly made flapcakes too?”

“She made
everything
.”

“I only know how to make flapcakes.”

“They smell delicious! And the setting looks lovely.” Rosemarie walks around the table, admiring. “No one will want to miss this. They'll come, even if I have to drag them out of bed.”

A short while later, everyone except Daisy and Grandmother join us.

“Milly, this brings back wonderful memories,” Arthur tells me with tears in his eyes. I remember the bride and groom portrait and see him in a new way—as a loving husband who lost his wife. I don't want to let him see me naked or sleep with him, but I offer him a smile—and a flapcake.

“What's the unusual flavor?” Leader Cross asks, dabbing syrup off his chin with a napkin.

“A sweet secret,” I say mysteriously. I envision creating meals, learning more about herbs, and inventing my own recipes.

The flapcakes are so warm steam rises from the plates. I haven't eaten any yet because I've been so busy. But there's not much work left, so I take a seat beside Rosemarie. I'm pouring golden syrup from a ceramic jug over a pile of flapcakes when I hear gagging.

Arthur clutches his throat, convulsing in his chair, his face mottled red, as if he can't breathe.

“Arthur!” Leader Cross lunges over to Arthur. But before he can reach out to help Arthur, he clutches his own stomach. His face pales, then flames as if on fire. He gags. He's not the only one. Everyone around the table is on their
feet, doubling over and gasping in pain.

“Call … the health workers!” Leader Cross manages to say before he vomits on Arthur's shoes.

All around the table, my new Family turns sick shades of green as they clutch their stomachs and vomit.

I've poisoned my Family.

I've been banished to my room.

The Family is having a meeting about me. Why can't I do anything right? How do I always cause trouble? I tried to fit in with the Crosses. But now I can't guess what they'll decide. I think Rosemarie will defend me, but my last glimpse of her was her back as she raced out of the room with her hand covering her mouth. She must think I'm a poor Milly replacement.

I don't want to be Returned like that crazy boy from the last group of youths. Where is he now? I've heard rumors the Returned are sent to the scientists' compound for secret experiments or locked into underground jails by the Uniforms. But I've always suspected they were sent outside the Fence. If the claws and snakes don't get them, the Nocturnes do.

Staring out the window, my gaze shifts off to the distant forest. A shadow flickers high in a tree, then vanishes into leafy limbs. It could be a harmless, gentle monklee. But I'm certain I've glimpsed something far more scarifying. A claw beast? Their massive jaws can crunch a hoxen in one bite and their razor claws rip through skin like it's cheese in a shredder. The claws only fear the Nocturnes—savage humans living beneath ground during light hours, then rising at night to hunt beasts. When I asked Instructor Penny how
humans can be so savage, she said Nocturnes are monsters in human bodies, and while they're dangerous, they protect us by killing beasts and keeping outsiders away from our island. There is only safety inside the Fence.

Whatever happens to the Returned, I hope I never find out.

Poisoning my Family, although accidental, deserves a severe punishment. Uniforms could be on their way now to contain me. I gaze through the window and see no sign of solar coaches. They aren't coming to get me. Yet.

My skin aches with anxiety. I can't sit idly, waiting for others to decide my future. I'll go downstairs where decisions are being made.

When I reach the main floor, I follow the rumble of voices to a closed door. I press my ear against the wood and hear the sound of arguing.

“—wasn't her fault!” Rosemarie is shouting. “She used the wrong herb. It was clearly an accident!”

“I warned you not to trust another youth,” a woman snaps.

“Don't be emotional, Daisy,” Leader Cross says.

“It could happen again,” Daisy warns angrily.

“No, it won't.” Rosemarie's voice is soft and pleading. “Milly is nothing like
him.
”

“That remains to be proven,” Leader Cross replies. “She's not allowed to prepare meals alone until the completion of memdenity.”

I can't blame them for not trusting me. Food poisoning won't kill you, but the antidote makes you wish you were dead.

“I should have been in the kitchen helping her. Blame
me, not her,” Rosemarie says, and I vow that if I survive this, I'll work hard to be like Milly.

“I blame both of you.”

There's a pause, then Rosemarie asks quietly, “Daisy, why can't you accept her? She may not be like your mother yet, but with memdenity she'll know everything Milly knew, and she will love you. You need to let go of your hate. Open your heart to your mother.”

“You're delusional!” Daisy says fiercely. “She's only a youth and nothing like my mother. Memdenity can give her information, but my mother was more than her cleaning skills and recipes. I see her in dreams and feel her so close like she's holding me. She's gone somewhere else … not into a tube of DNA. If you truly think that girl can bring back Milly, then you're fooling yourself.”

“Enough, Daisy!” Leader Cross roars with a thud as if his fist hits a table.

“You're at fault too,” Daisy accuses. “You insisted on bringing her here even though we voted against taking another youth.”

“Are you challenging my decision?” His voice cuts like the sharp edge of an ax. “Rosemarie and Arthur will keep a close watch on the girl. Once she has all of Milly's memories, she'll be as pliable as Milly.”

“You're a fool to trust memdenity.” Daisy's voice shrills so she's almost screaming. “You may forget, but I'm marked forever. I'm warning you. Return her now, or we'll all regret it.”

There's the sound of stomping feet. When the door flings open, I jump behind a corner. Daisy pushes her hair from her eyes and for the first time I see all of her face. Her words strike me with new meaning:
I'm marked forever
.

Marcus told me about a crazy youth who stabbed his sister.

Not a rumor—the truth marks Daisy's face.

From cheek to chin is a jagged scar.

I can't get Daisy's scar out of my mind. I've never seen anything like it. Faces are eternally smooth and perfect. Bruises, cuts, and burns are easily mended by health workers' medicreams.

So why hasn't Daisy had her scar removed?

Summoning sympathy for Daisy isn't easy since she's been so awful to me. But I dislike her less. My emotions tangle with what I've overheard. Daisy's words slam in my head: “We voted against taking a youth.”

Yet they Chose me instead of strong, muscular Clark. I'd thought Leader Cross saw something worthwhile in me and was glad to add me to his Family. But the truth eats inside me like a poison I can't vomit out.

I've never heard of a Family deciding
not
to take a youth. Families wait so long for a youth that they're joyous to welcome us. Instructor Penny confided that some Families want to change the laws so youths are born every ten years instead of twenty-five. As decades pass, the Name Books grow thicker, and important knowledge is forever lost. There aren't enough youths born to carry on all memories. We're valuable and necessary to our community. Why blame all youths because of one crazy boy?

She can't be trusted.

This prejudgment is so unfair. Anger rips through
me … yet I'm hurting too, longing to be accepted. I don't need Milly's memories to be trustworthy.

I'll show them.

Instead of returning to my room, I detour through the kitchen and yank open the cabinet that holds rows of cookbooks, fluttering through pages until I find a chapter titled “Cooking Made Simple.”

Not taking the time to study the Name Books before the Celebraze was my worst mistake. I deserved the shame I felt at the Celebraze on stage, unprepared for my own future. I didn't prepare then, but I will now. If I don't want to be Returned, I need to work harder to fit into my Family, starting off with learning to cook without poisoning anyone.

Although my recipe for redemption may be too late.

The Cross Family was poisoned against me long before I arrived.

Hours later, Rosemarie looks surprised when she finds me reading the cooking book in our room. She pulls up a chair beside where I'm sitting on my bed and points to the book. “My favorite recipe is on
page 132
,” she says, as if there are no worries behind her smile.

“I'm not there yet.”

“It pleases me to see your interest in cooking.”

“I'm Milly, right?” I try to smile but fail.

“She never bothered with cookery books. You needn't either,” Rosemarie adds. “You'll know everything soon.”

I frown. She's referring to the memdenity, which I don't want to think about. I'm not even sure I'll be here long enough for new memories. If I make another mistake, I could be Returned. I'd probably already be gone if it weren't
for Rosemarie.

“I want to learn so I can better help you,” I tell her.

“By being here, you're helping me.” She pats my arm.

“I wasn't any help this morning,” I say bitterly.

“You had no way of knowing to use the cinnasweet roots, not the leaves. I explained this to Ryan—I mean, Leader Cross. A health worker administered the medidote, so everyone is well and able to attend to their duties.”

“I want to make up for what I did.” I close the cookbook. “I doubt any other youth poisoned their Family on the first day.”

She chuckles. “But we didn't Chose those other youths. We wanted you.”

When she hugs me, I hug her back, even though I know her answer is untrue. Rosemarie wants me to be Milly, and a majority of the Family doesn't want me at all. I touch my smooth cheek, cringing at the memory of Daisy's gruesome scar.

What happened to the crazy youth after he was Returned?

Is he still living on the island?

Is he still living at all?

I have to work hard not make any more mistakes. No daydreaming or breaking rules. I will become as perfect and useful as the real Milly.

The rest of the day flies by without any mishaps. Rosemarie leads me to the gardens and points out the prime herbs to use for cooking. Afterward, she shows me the cleaning cupboard, where brooms, mops, and cleaning bottles are stored. I soak in all this new information. Rosemarie accepts me as if I already have Milly's memories. I'm grateful yet uneasy. Despite Rosemarie's encouragement, I don't fit into this Family.