Memory Girl (2 page)

“It makes sense to me. I like sharing days with you, Lorelei, the other youths, and our Instructors. Why should I be forced to take someone else's name and memories?”

“We're not
forced,
” Lorelei argues. “We'll be welcomed by our relatives and take a contributing role in ShareHaven. How can you not want that honor?”

Marcus nods. “It's why we were born.”

“I know,” I say, so softly my words are autumn leaves withering and falling to the ground.

Lorelei puts her arm around Marcus, and they stand unified against me. I know they're right. I should be preparing for my new life and excited like my fourteen born-mates.
But how can I give up everything I've been until now? After today I may never touch the sea again.

I feel a prick of wetness on my arm. The cut from the barbed wire still bleeds. It's only a thin pink-red line, but it reminds me I'm not danger-proof. I'm a caretaker of my body—not the sole owner—and it's my duty to be careful. Soon I'll have a Family, a new name, and a forever role in ShareHaven society.

But will I still be me?

“I have to go … I'm sorry,” I say and turn my back on my friends.

I untwist the wires so they fall to the sides like the open mouth of a jagged-toothed monster. I've grown up with warnings of claws and snakes outside ShareHaven. But while I've heard roars beyond our boundaries, I've never seen monstrous creatures. Day by day, I only see the same eternal faces.

Everything except my face will change when I belong to a Family.

I don't want to think on this and push through the narrow opening, legs dangling as I balance precariously on wire. I'm only a jump away from the forbidden side of the Fence.

They are no more warnings from my best mates. I'm tempted to look behind me. Instead, I lift my gaze to the gray-blue horizon that stretches forever. Chilly sea fills me with an ache so deep I want to cry, although I have no idea why. Am I flawed somehow? Why can't I behave the expected, dutiful way, like Lorelei, and be studious, like Marcus? Why am I always yearning, frustrated, even angry sometimes for no sensical reason? Why can't I accept all I've learned from the
Instructors? Instead I am tormented with questions.

My mind slips into familiar groves of wonderings—whispers shared in darkness about belonging to a Family. Since our birth, we've been on the same path with the same destination—to reach age fifteen, join a Family, and receive memories of a Lost One. There's a retro word that comes to mind: recycling—when rare resources like metal or plastic are melted and reshaped into something new.

Why can't I stay in this shape?

With a fierce look at the sky, I suck in salty freedom. I look over at the safe side of the Fence, relieved yet a little disappointed too. No one is there.

In the distance, I spot Lorelei and Marcus walking away.

Clinging to the wire, I whisper over and over, “I am Jennza … I am Jennza … I am Jennza ….”

I spread my arms wide.

And jump.

I land on a rock shelf on the forbidden side of the Fence.

Slowly, I wind down the steep, rocky trail. Warm blood droplets trickle on my arm, and I swipe them away. The cut isn't deep, but it reminds me of that heart-stopping moment of falling. Balancing on a boulder, I dig into my front panton pocket for a cloth rag and wrap it around my arm.

Shivering, I gulp in deep breaths. Why am I fearful? I've climbed down this cliff often, even in the night-dark, and never came close to falling. I sneak out early morns when winds slumber and waves softly sigh in their sleep. It's only me, alone, with a friendly sea. Now the sun is bright, breezes swirling sand and salty droplets. I shut out fearsome thoughts and continue down the path.

Foamy waves splash, and my leather boots sink into the damp sand. I glance over my shoulder at my sunken footsteps trailing me like stalking shadows. Smiling at my imaginings, I throw out my arms to embrace the sea, sky, and morning. Rocky outcroppings teem with life, storm gulls fly overhead, and tiny sea creatures dive into bubbly sand holes. Despite warnings of claws, venomous snakes, and savage sub-human Nocturnes lurking outside the boundaries, I feel safe here. In this hidden shore, I can just be
me.

Usually, I throw sticks in the surf or hunt for sand shells, but my time is running out. So I hop over rocks and streams
spilling into the sea until I reach a steep rock formation, so impassible that anyone else would have retreated in surrender.

On my first trip over the Fence, I nearly did turn around. But I was curious, so I splashed in the waves, delighting in the giantness of the castle-like rock. I tossed driftwood into the surf, then laughed when the sea flung it back to me. A gift from my sea minions, I imagined. I flung the stick until a gusty wind hurled it high at the rocky cliff. I waited for my stick to bounce off the rock back to me. Only it never did. I threw another stick at the same spot. And it vanished too.

That's how I found the cave.

My cave.

Now I'm visiting for the last time. I won't have the same freedom in a Family, and my new memories—memdenity—will change me too. I may not even
want
to play in the sea, although that seems impossible. But the Instructors say thoughts, habits, and even tastes change when a youth receives a Lost One's memories. I ache to think of never coming here again and forgetting what I love most. Yet Instructor Penny, whom I love dearly, says that memdenity will grow stronger with maturity, like heavy blankets layering over my Jennza memories.

As if I can run from these thoughts, I climb like a monklee up the steep rock castle, pressing myself against the craggy surface. Tufts of green moss stain my fingers. The stain will wash off, so when I stand on the podium at the Celebraze today, I will appear no different than my born-mates.

The shadowed cave is camouflaged by darkness. My feet find the plateau, narrow but wide enough to perch on as
I enter the tunnel. It slants down, seeming to plunge into oblivion.

When I first discovered this opening, I could hear Instructor Theo's voice in my head warning of dangers.

Do not stray from the paths.

Do not touch anything unnamed.

Do not venture beyond boundaries.

I always roll my eyes when he goes on and on about safeguarding our bodies. He isn't worried about us but about the Lost Ones whose memories won't live again if we're damaged.
Don't I matter too
? I want to ask. But I already know the answer and rebel by growing more reckless. With near zero chance of dying, what is there to fear?

Still that first time at the cave, I took a deep breath before crawling into the unknown. Now I know every shadow and secret of my cave.

This morning is cool with chilly air breezing through my cotton shirt and denim pantons. While youths usually wear tunic shirts over dark-gray pantons, we also have some treasured old-made garments. Instructor Penny gifted me with black denim pantons—sturdy fabric that's flexible for climbing. Of all the Instructors, I'll miss Penny the most. She's the only one who feels like … well … family.

Sighing with the sadness of good-byes, I descend into darkness, my echoing footfalls surrounding me. When my eyes adjust, I smile at tiny crawlies creeping on the narrow passage walls. Once I turn the corner, the tunnel lightens from high ceiling holes that let in golden rays. I nearly slip on a patch of moss but grab a protruding rock. The narrow tunnel drops, then rises, opening into an amazing chamber. Rock walls slither and shimmer with small, slimy
creatures. I don't know their species names but have given them names of my own: swizards, finshines, and rainbells. High on the ceiling, purple vines and crystal bubble chains dangle like luminescent wind chimes. Every time I come here, awe bursts inside me.

Except I sense something different today.

The air trembles with a disturbance.

My gaze sweeps the circular chamber, yet I see nothing—until I look down at the sand sprinkled rocky floor and jump backward.

The indentation is unlike any footprint I've ever seen. Three times my hand-size with round, giant toes. A half-print disappears in the stream pouring into the deep pool at the end of the cave. I named it the Lavender Pool because green-blue sea becomes sunset-purple when it streams through the tunnel, as if the chameleon water is adapting to its shadowy environment.

I stand still as if I'm made of rock. Usually I'd go to the Lavender Pool and visit my tiny crawly friends. But I'm not sure what else I might find. Who—what—made the footprints?

Reaching down, I trace my finger inside the deepest curving footprint. Something very, very, scary-large stepped here. What if it's still here? Hiding behind boulders, waiting for me?

I want to keep going, yet warnings haunt my thoughts. Avoid the Three Dangers: this mantra has been ingrained in me.
Sticks and stones may break your bones, but the Three Dangers will surely kill you.
No one grows old and dies like in retro-century but there are rare accidents: drowning, falls, and tool mishaps. It's my born purpose to protect this
body, a duty impossible for even me to ignore.

I'm turning to leave when I hear a familiar tinkling-glass sound.

“Petal?” I call out. When we first met, I mistook her—green-gold, curled within her shimmery tail—for a floating water petal. So tiny and defenseless. My stomach clenches to think of her alone with a massive-footed monster.

I hurry to the natural-formed crystal bridge arched over the Lavender Pool and whisper, “Petal?”

The sense of wrongness sharpens.

A weapon. Yes, that's what I need. Fumbling in my panton pockets, I find a pencil nub, paper scrap, and comb. Nothing useful.

When I hear Petal's tinkling cry again, I run across the bridge. Above the pool, a rainbow-glistening ceiling shines with fluttery winged creatures that sing when they fly. In the deep water below are swirling fish with many eyes and long, feathery fins. I usually find my tiny Petal on the ledge at the pool's edge. She's sweet and unique; like no other creature. I imagine a giant monster crushing her in its monstrous hand.

But when I look down into the Lavender Pool, the misty water is calm and undisturbed. There's no monster. Only Petal perched on her ledge.

She's no bigger than my palm, except her tail is twice her length. She's light as feathers with bright black eyes and velvety lashes, but instead of fur, she has leathery bristles, and her limbs are webbed, so when she swims, she's as quick as a fish. I don't know what species she is; all I know is that when I tickle her belly, she tinkles with laughter, and I love her.

“Petal!” I scoop her up in my hands. She rubs her face against mine, purring a musical sound that is part hello and part fear. I can feel her tiny heart racing.

“Graces good, you're safe,” I say, kissing her head.

She blinks up at me, her dark eyes so bright with intelligence that if she could talk, we'd have the most fascinating conversations. We communicate in a language of sounds and gestures, and often I think she reads my mind. Yet when I ask her about the footprint she only blinks, then wiggles through my fingers and dives, whiskery nose first, into the water.

Petal makes a gesture with her webbed limb for me to swim. But after seeing the footprint, I don't want to take off my coverings. I shake my head. Playfully, she splashes at me, and when I lift my arms to shield my face, my arm stings. The cut I got while climbing the Fence has reopened; the cloth around it loosened. Droplets of blood drip down my arm. A drop plops into the Pool, spreading dark red circles on lavender water.

The fish, always gentle and friendly, suddenly merge together in a frenzied swirl. Dark, gray, brown and silver fins dart toward the blood droplets. I've never seen the fish act so strangely, storming together in a cyclone around the bloody drops. Petal scampers up to my shoulder, her cries chiming alarm.

Another blood drop splashes into the pool.

A fish shoots out of the water, changing its shape. Growing and stretching larger than the monster footprint. Three knife-fang teeth jut from the usually toothless fish mouth. Buggy eyes burn fire as the fish opens its jaw wide. The vampire fish is flying. Coming straight at me ….

Whoosh!

A splinter-sized object shoots over the pool, striking the attacking fish mid-air. Ruby-black blood spills from one of its eyes. With a shriek, the fish shrinks to normal size and plops into the water.

When I turn toward the front of the cave, there's a human-shaped monster with arm-like tubes dangling along his body and giantness flipper feet. Impossible! I've been told we're the only humans on this island. So what is this creature? A male, I sense. He has no face—only a head-sized glassy bubble. Beyond the mask, there's a blur of human features, and I realize the bulbous tubes aren't living limbs but devices connected to the mask. Also, his pale hand is very human as he holds a cylindrical object. Is this the weapon which speared the fish? Is he going to spear me too?