Read The Heart of Memory Online
Authors: Alison Strobel
Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Christian, #Religious
It was this last bit that frustrated Shaun the most. He read everything he could find online that seemed a legitimate description of the phenomenon, and in none of the articles was there any mention of how the recipients got those memories “turned off.” Certainly there had to be some way.
He finally stopped when a sudden wave of nausea reminded him of how long it had been since his last meal. As he threw together a hasty dinner, he tried not to let himself get too excited at this new discovery. If they could identify Savannah’s struggles as really being cellular memories, then at least they had a cause, a documented—albeit not completely accepted—type of event that others had also experienced.
Perhaps he’d try to contact Dr. Pearsall. It couldn’t hurt. Shaun hadn’t read any stories that seemed exactly like Savannah’s — none of them seemed to involve changes in spirituality. Musical and food preferences, yes. From one religion to another — or to none — not so much. Leave it to Savannah to be the exception to the rule.
There had to be a fix, a cure. There had to be. He held on to that as he ate and surfed the web some more, praying there was an article he hadn’t read yet that touched on how to stop cellular memories. He couldn’t let himself think about what was in store if there wasn’t.
S
AVANNAH’S CELL RANG HER AWAKE.
Shaun’s number was on the screen. “Hi there.”
“Hi — did I wake you? I thought for sure you’d be up by now.”
“I should be, don’t worry about it. I was up late.”
“Me too. Reading about cellular memories.”
She sat up, fully awake at the phrase. “Yes! Me too! You got my message then.”
“And got on the computer as soon as I got home. Fascinating.”
“Sure—until it’s happening to you.”
“So did you see that an organ recipient wrote a book about her cellular memory experience?”
“I did. Tabitha is going to get it from the library for me today.”
“And Dr. Pearsall—”
“Yes, I saw him, too. I want to read his book as well. Maybe it tells how to get off this train.”
She heard Shaun sigh. “That was the one thing I couldn’t find anything on. Did you?”
She sank back against the pillow. “No. For a minute there I was hoping you were going to have found the missing piece. I do have to admit, though — I feel a lot better knowing I’m not going crazy.”
“So—does it make it easier for you to think past it all, to fake it better, now that you know it’s not really you thinking those thoughts? I don’t suppose you’ve changed your mind about the book tour …”
She slammed her hand down on the bed beside her. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“I just thought—”
“No, it doesn’t change that. I’m sorry that’s such an inconvenience for you.”
“Savannah—”
“Look, I’m not happy about all this either, remember? And it doesn’t make it any easier on me when you try to goad me into going along with your plans and pour on the guilt. I need support, not a constant reminder of how I’m failing everyone.”
“So you want me to lie about how I’m feeling?”
“No, I want you to say, ‘Wow, Savannah, I’m sorry, that really sucks, this must be really hard for you.’ Not ‘You’re ruining my life.’”
“I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
The silence that ensued made her ears ring. “I need some breakfast. I’ll talk to you later.” She hung up without waiting for a response.
Well, that was a lousy way to start my morning.
She chose her clothing and took a shower, all the while feeling like someone was watching her. Knowing now that the new Savannah was really the old Charlie, as though his soul were still hanging around trying to get her attention, was disconcerting. Creepy, actually. She hurried down to the main floor where there was more activity, suddenly uncomfortable being alone.
Tabitha greeted her as she entered the therapy room. “Just on my way to group. Want to join us?”
Savannah chuckled. “Only if you think you can help Charlie.”
“Sorry, I don’t think my theology allows for psychoanalyzing the deceased.”
“Mine didn’t either, but now I’m not so sure. Listen, can I use your computer again? I want to order that other book we saw, the one that isn’t at the library.”
“Sure, go ahead. I’ll be done at eleven, if you want to talk.”
Savannah looked up the book again, then attempted her first-ever online purchase. She filled out the plethora of fields to create an account, then hit ‘submit,’ hoping she’d done everything right. When the error screen came up, she groaned. What had she done wrong?”
Please review your credit card information and try again.
“That
was the other thing I wanted to talk to Shaun about!” She cursed herself as she pulled out the other credit card and entered its information. This time the order went through. It was at that point that she realized she’d listed her home as the destination for the book. Who knew how long it would be before she actually got to read it? She cursed herself again and began a new internet search with the terms “stop cellular memories.”
It was the only piece of information that didn’t seem to exist.
S
AVANNAH WAS STARTLED WHEN
T
ABITHA
appeared. “My gosh, it is already eleven?”
“Eleven-thirty, actually. Did you want lunch?”
Savannah rubbed her eyes; they burned from staring so long at the screen. “Yes, I should.”
Tabitha gave her one of her looks that meant she knew more about how you felt than you probably wanted her to. “Didn’t find what you were looking for?”
“It’s the one thing no one writes about. Either that or I’m just not searching for the right thing.”
They walked to the dining room where everyone else was already eating. “I had so much hope last night. The whole way home on that flight, I just kept thinking this was the beginning of the end of all of this. Now that I had an idea of what was going on, I’d be able to put a stop to it. But now I feel like I’m just doomed to live like this forever.” She didn’t tell Tabitha how the chill had left her chest when she’d visited Lori, and how this morning, when faced with the absence of the information she desperately needed, it had once again returned.
Tabitha wrapped an arm around Savannah’s shoulders. “God has a plan.”
Savannah shuddered Tabitha’s arm away. “Don’t even say that.”
She regretted the words instantly, but only because she knew how they must hurt Tabitha. It was an apt reflection of the fears that gripped her, however—that this was who she was now, a cold-hearted witch, in more ways than one.
CHAPTER 13
S
HAUN LET OUT A GROWL AND SLAMMED THE PHONE BACK INTO
its cradle with a curse before leaving his office. He was jumpy with anger at how Savannah turned his words back on him, how they couldn’t have a civil conversation anymore. He needed a run to clear his head.
Jessie was in the hallway, moving with quiet steps away from his office. “When did you get here?”
She stopped and slowly turned. He could read her expression loud and clear. “A little while ago.”
“You heard it all.”
“Yeah.”
He blew out a breath and shrugged. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.”
She cocked her head slightly, and her expression became unreadable. “Are you and Mom getting a divorce?”
“No, honey, we’re not.” He hoped his face wasn’t as clear to her as hers often was to him. He wasn’t sure how well he could hide his doubt about the statement he’d just made. He put his arm around her and led her to the kitchen. “All married couples have their rough patches; it doesn’t mean they’re going to split up. Your mom and I agreed a long time ago divorce would never be an option.”
She sat on a barstool as he started the coffeepot. “But that was before she turned into … whoever she is now,” she said. “She’s not the same person. She doesn’t even believe in God anymore, does she? So what reason does
she
have to keep divorce off the table?”
He was getting uncomfortable with this conversation. He wasn’t ready to talk with Jessie about something he himself hadn’t figured out yet.
I should never have told her everything Savannah was going through.
“We’re not getting a divorce, Jess. Trust me. Now, what brings you home? You’re a college student. You should be sleeping in until noon, not driving home before breakfast. I didn’t think I’d see you again before Thanksgiving.”
“I left some stuff in my closet that I wanted to bring back to campus. I meant to get it when I was here last but I forgot. The rest of my weekend is really packed, so I wanted to come now while I had the time.” She swiveled on the seat, eyes concentrated on the marble countertop. “Is Mom coming home for Thanksgiving?”
Shaun tried not to show his irritation. “I don’t know, we haven’t talked about it.”
“What if she doesn’t come home?”
He chuckled. “What, and relocates to Georgia? I don’t think she could handle the humidity.”
“I’m serious, Dad. What if she decides she’s done with us and just stays there? What if the new Savannah
likes
humidity?”
He rolled his eyes at her. “You’re getting melodramatic, Jessie. Trust me, she’s not staying there forever.”
“Well, when is she coming back then?”
He shrugged and took down two mugs from the cabinet. “I don’t know. When she’s gotten herself together, I guess. Did you hear the first part of the conversation, about cellular memory?”
“No, I came in when you started getting angry.”
He winced. “Well, your mom met with the sister of her heart donor and found out some very interesting information.” He outlined Savannah’s conversation with Lori and the discovery they’d both made of the theory. “So we feel like we’re going in the right direction. We just have to do more research.”
“That sounds … weird. Did you find anything that said how to stop the cellular memories from interfering with the recipient?”
“Unfortunately, that’s the one thing nobody mentions. From what I gather they may fade with time, but it’s not like you can just switch them off, or speed up the fading process.”
“So she’s like this indefinitely?”
“I guess so, yes.”
She frowned at him. “But what about A&A? It
can’t
last like this indefinitely, can it? She’s not speaking or traveling—where will the income come from?”
“Her new book is still selling, and so are her past books — whenever a new one comes out it always revives the sales of the others, even if it’s just for a little while. It’s not like there’s no money coming in at all. You have plenty of things in your own life to worry about, Jessie, don’t dwell on this one.”
“How can’t I, Dad? Adam’s family would be in dire straits if A&A went down. I can’t
not
worry about it.”
He squeezed her shoulder. “I know, honey. But we just have to trust that God will take care of everything.”
She shrugged off his hand and slipped from the barstool to open the fridge and pull out the milk. “I haven’t been real thrilled with how God has handled things lately. I don’t know how willing I am to trust that he’s going to snap his fingers and make all this okay.”
He wished he could admit he felt the same way, but he wasn’t about to feed into her own struggle and doubt with his own. Though hearing her speak like that made him sad—and even more stressed. If she were to find out what was going on—if A&A really did collapse—he’d be just as much to blame for her walking away from God as Savannah would be.
He responded with something lame, hoping it didn’t sound as phony to her. He poured them both coffee, but she excused herself, taking her mug to her bedroom and shutting the door. Shaun slumped onto the couch and prayed for what he realized was the first time in weeks.
You’ve got to show me how to fix this. I’ve got to fix this. Tell me what to do.
He stared at the trees, waiting for an answer, and tried not to assume the ever-stronger impression that closing A&A was actually from God. Surely that was his own fear talking. Why would God want to shut down such an important ministry?
Regardless, nothing is going to get fixed if we’re not talking to each other.
He had to go to Georgia. He had to get face-to-face with Savannah and talk all this through. It had been less than a week since she’d been gone, but already it felt like a month. The distance between them grew exponentially with every day that passed. They needed to reconnect, fast.
He took his coffee to his office and looked up their frequent flyer miles, only to discover Savannah had dipped into them for both her flight to Georgia and to Kansas. There weren’t enough left for him to book a round-trip ticket. He cursed under his breath and debated the importance of the trip for just a moment, then looked up a flight and tried to book it.
I’m sorry, your purchase did not go through. Please check your credit card account number and try again.
Shaun’s stomach sank.
Please Jesus, help me.
T
ABITHA APPEARED AT THE KITCHEN
door. “Shaun’s here.”
Savannah nearly chopped her knuckles into the onions. “Okay, thanks. I’ll be out in a minute.”
Tabitha shut the door and Savannah groaned.
“Who’s this Shaun?” Aniyah asked, eyebrows arched.
“My husband.”
“He come to visit you? Aw, that’s sweet.”
A snort escaped. “It’s not a visit. More like a business meeting.”
Aniyah
tsked.
“Don’t be assuming the worst, now.”
“It’s not an assumption, trust me.” She slid a finger down the side of the knife, knocking minced vegetables to the cutting board. “Into the pot?”
“Yeah. Thanks for helping. You spoiling me. Gonna miss you when you go.”
“Well, hopefully that won’t happen for a while.” She hadn’t admitted that to Tabitha yet, fearing she’d be given a deadline. But the thought of returning to Colorado put a knot in her chest that made it hard to breathe.
Being in Georgia was so lovely. It was easy to forget about Colorado, about A&A, about her family, when she was surrounded by such warm and loving people who didn’t press her to be anyone other than who she felt she was right then. The others at The Refuge understood how wounds of the soul could change you on a deep level. They didn’t expect you to fake it or try to deny your pain. Not that the pain she felt was actually hers. None of them knew that, though. And knowing it didn’t make anything any easier for her.
But with Shaun here, she couldn’t live in her pretty Georgia world of denial. She had to face what was going on back home because of her. And since she couldn’t do anything about any of it, she didn’t really want to face it.
She dawdled as much as she dared, then went to the sitting room where she and Tabitha had talked the first day she’d arrived. He was sitting in one of the corner seats by the window, staring out at the orchard of leafless trees. It had been only a week—how was it that he already felt like a stranger?
“Hi.”
He looked up at her. For a moment she could have sworn he didn’t recognize her. “Hey.”
They didn’t touch. She sat down in the chair diagonal from him and tried to muster some affection, or even a feeling of friendliness. It didn’t work. “I’ve been meaning to ask you. I tried to use the Visa the other day and it was denied. What’s that about?”
He waved a hand. “Just a glitch. It happened to me, too. Use the Mastercard until I get it sorted out.”
She thought about that for a moment, but couldn’t get it to make sense. “What is there to sort out?”
“I don’t know. They’re looking into it.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t think you’re being honest with me.”
He sighed, and his expression aged him ten years. “Look, Savannah, I was hoping we’d be able to … to think through some things a little more level-headedly if I came out here. I don’t want to get into any arguments.”
She worked to keep her tone even. “I’m not trying to get into an argument. I’m trying to get a straight answer.”
“We need to talk about more important things.”
“More important than why you’re evading my questions?”
“A&A is going under.” She shut her mouth, eyes wide as Shaun continued. “We’re barely making ends meet. We have no way to budget for the future because we have no idea what our income will be next month, much less for the next quarter. Your book is selling, and numbers have gone up for your backlist, but none are as high as we’d hoped. We don’t have the book tour income we’d been counting on, and in fact lost money when we canceled—”
“You don’t have to remind me, I know what happened,” she snapped.
“I’m not trying to make you feel guilty —”
“Oh no? Look, I know I cost the ministry money, I know I’m to blame —”
“Look I’m not trying to blame you.” He stopped, took a deep breath, started again with his tone lowered. “I’m just trying to lay everything out on the table. This is what we’re dealing with, and I don’t know how much longer I can keep things together over there. The fact is we’re falling apart, and without you at the helm we’re doomed.”
She swallowed hard. The joy at the thought of not having that weight on her shoulders anymore was buried by the horror of costing her staff their jobs and casting such a shameful light on her family. “So what are you saying?”
“I’m saying I think we need to shut it down.”
“What? No.”
“Then tell me how to keep it open.”
“I don’t know. That’s not my department.”
Shaun scoffed. “No, your department is writing books and speaking about them, and you’re not doing either one.”
Savannah blinked back tears. “Well, I’m sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t pay the bills. We need to close, the sooner the better.”
Savannah hugged herself, the cold in her chest seeming to course through every vein of her body. “I can’t believe it’s coming to this.”
Surprise joined frustration in his face. “I can’t believe you’re not jumping at the chance to shut it down. You don’t even believe in the ministry’s mission anymore, what do you care if it thrives or dies?”
“Because that ministry is the culmination of my blood, sweat, and tears! It’s not like I’ve forgotten who I was before all this happened, Shaun. We both gave the last ten years of our lives to that place. How can you think I’d be happy to close it?”
“You may not have forgotten who you were, but it doesn’t change the fact that you’re not that person anymore. The new Savannah is making it pretty clear that the priorities from her old life are out the window.”
She couldn’t deny it, much as she wanted to. And she couldn’t deny that he was right about the ministry — it had to be closed. Keeping it open was impossible—and at this point, not even reasonable. She wiped tears from her cheeks with her sleeves. “Fine. Shut it down then. Just tell them … tell them I’m not strong enough to keep working.” She let out a snort. “Oh, what do I care—you can tell them the truth if you want. It doesn’t matter anymore anyway.”
She stood and turned toward the stairs, but Shaun sprang from his seat and grabbed her arm. “Wait, where are you going?”
“Back to my room. I have books on cellular memory I’m reading.”
“Well — can I at least come up with you? Bring up my bag?”
She was confused. “What—are you staying here?”