5: Bare

“So where’d you end up sleeping last night?”

Abigail and I were seated across from each other at the small coffee shop I often visited in the mornings. Sometimes she met me, sometimes she didn’t. Today, from the moment she walked in, I could tell it had been a rough night. Her hair was frazzled and messy-looking, and large bags hung under her eyes. Yawning, she had sat down and I ordered her a coffee. It seemed to have helped some.

“My house.”

“Why do you look so tired then?”

She shrugged. “Just couldn’t sleep.”

I expected her to apologize for how she left the night before or offer some sort of explanation, but none ever came. I figured it was dangerous to broach that topic, but my curiosity got the better of me. “So why’d you leave like that last night?”

She took a sip of her coffee. “Hm?”

“After the movie last night. You just left. Walked right across the road. And told me to go back home a different way.”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember that. It was a really long night.”

“You just couldn’t sleep, right?”

She nodded. “Why?”

“Just making sure you’re alright.”

Abigail smiled. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. How was your night?”

“It was good.” I’d decided on the way over not to tell her about the strange boy I’d met. To be honest, I was curious about what he said. Sometime, I’d tell her, but not right now. “Very peaceful.”

She accepted my response without question. “Do you come here everyday?”

“Huh?” I looked up from the table, where I’d been lost in thought.

“Do you come to this place everyday? Everytime that I come here, you already are.”

I shrugged and glanced around. “Not everyday. But a lot. It’s a nice place and not too expensive.”

“Yeah. I guess.” She looked at me curiously for a few minutes. “Is there something on your mind?”

“Kind of.” I noticed I was curling my fingers together under the table again and forced myself to put my hands in my pockets. “I was just wondering, do you actually remember your childhood?”

“What do you mean?”

“You told me about your parents and stuff, but you never really mentioned anything specific.”

She shook her head. “I don’t remember anything before I was… nine or ten.”

“Why is that?”

Abigail looked at me weird for a minute, and took a few moments to answer. “They used to tell me I just had bad memory. I believed it for a while.” She scratched at a knot in the wooden table. “I guess they were just trying to protect me.”

I wasn’t sure whether I should push farther or not, but ultimately I couldn’t help it. “From what?’

“They said… Well, you know how I said that my dad wanted an abortion?”

I nodded.

“I never knew the reason they split up after giving me away. I just figured it was something that happens. Well -after my mom had said she didn’t want an abortion- she told my dad they were gonna raise me, no matter the costs. That turned into a fight, and she said that she’d rather have me than be with him.”

“And?”

“I’m not done. So, for some reason she left me at the house alone with my dad, who probably hated me by that point. This was just after I was born. Few weeks or so.” She swallowed hard, struggling to get the words out.

“Go on.” I put a hand on hers. “It’s okay.”

“He tried to make it look like an accident.” I felt a sickening feeling in my stomach as she kept talking. “They wouldn’t tell me how exactly. I don’t wanna know. But she came home and found me on the floor. There was lots of blood, they said. Something messed up in my brain. Whatever it was, it screwed up my memory.” A single tear rolled down her cheek. “So I don’t remember anything before nine.”

“I’m so sorry.” There were no words I could say. We sat there in silence, my hand on hers, and she didn’t move away. “I shouldn’t have-”

“It’s okay.” She curled up her hand and I thought she was going to take it away. Instead, she flipped it over and held onto mine. “You’re the first person I’ve ever told. The first that’s ever asked.”

Then how did that boy know something had happened? I wondered.

“When was the last time you cried? Like really-hard-cried?” she asked me.

I looked up from my lap. I was doing the stupid finger-curl thing again. “What’d you say?”

“When was the last time you cried?”

“Um… I don’t know.” I yawned. “Why? I mean… I guess it’s been a while.”

She nodded.

“What about you?’

She shrugged and gave me a sad look. “I don’t remember how to.”

<><><><><>

It was a few days later before I had the chance to ask Xavier about his own past.

In that time span, I never saw Abigail even once. I texted her a few times, got no response, and called the house. Her aunt had told me over the phone that she was gone for a couple of days, spending the night at her grandparents. Though that didn’t explain why she hadn’t answered my texts, I decided to drop the subject and thanked her anyways.

Hopefully she’ll still talk to me when she gets back…

I spent the rest of that day at the playground, except for when I saw the bullies coming. They were in the distance, so I ran away before they saw me.

I avoided them that afternoon, too tired for another fight, then returned in the evening to find Xavier on the same swingset. I’d forgotten to ask Abigail if she’d heard of him. It would be nice if my only two friends knew each other.

“Hey there,” I said, sitting down on the swing next to him.

“Hey, Caleb,” he muttered.

“I was gonna invite you to a movie on Friday but didn’t know your number, or where you lived.”

“I don’t have a phone,” said Xavier.

“House phone? Or do your parents have one?”

“Nope.” He shook his head. “And I only live with my mom anyways.”

“Oh. Um, why?” I cringed at the awkward question.

He shrugged, not seeming to care. “Adopted mom. My actual parents are god-knows-where. You probably don’t care.”

“No, no. It’s fine. You can go on.”

“Nah,” he said. “So how’s your day been?”

I was disappointed by the change of subject. “Fine. Yours?”

He shrugged. “My mom was in a bad mood. I don’t know why. I haven’t had anyone to talk to, so I’ve been out of the house just walking around. She got mad because I didn’t come home ‘til late last night. Probably won’t again tonight. I have a real strict curfew.”

I nodded. “Same here. I live with my aunt and uncle.”

“You ever wish you had parents?” he asked. “Like, ‘cause maybe they’d be nicer.”

“I guess so. Mine were okay, I think. Memories are a bit hazy,” I explained.

“I don’t remember mine at all.” He sighed. “Or anything from then, really. My mom says that’s why I’m so smart. Because the accident made room for me to learn and remember more stuff.” He smiled at the thought, then frowned.

“The accident?” I was genuinely curious this time. He was telling me what I was hoping to find out.

“Yeah. I fell off a balcony, or a cliff or something when I was little. I don’t even remember. My mom told me but that was a while ago.”

I couldn’t help but laugh a little. “A cliff? You fell off a freaking cliff and survived?”

He smiled. “I don’t really remember. Maybe it wasn’t a cliff. I don’t know.”

“So how old were you? When the accident happened.”

“Um, like eight or nine.”

“Hmm.”

Xavier looked at me suspiciously. “What is it?”

“Nothing. So you can’t remember from about what? Eight or nine, too?”

“Yeah, about then. Why?”

I shrugged. “I’m just curious. You know that Abigail girl I told you about?”

He nodded.

“Well, she’s got something similar. Like she can’t remember her childhood from about the same ages as you.”

“Weird coincidence,” he said thoughtfully.

“I agree. Hers wasn’t an accident, though. She…” I thought for a moment. “Well, I don’t know if she’d want me to tell you.”

“That’s alright. I don’t really care.” There was silence for a few minutes, then he broke it. “Bit of a random thing to ask, really.”

“What is?”

“Your question.”

“I didn’t really ask,” I said. “And, it wasn’t exactly random.”

Xavier looked at me strangely for a moment. “What do you mean?”

I told him about the stranger last night. Though I tried my best to describe him, I could tell from his reaction it didn’t register. Moving on, I told what the boy had said and how he left without telling me his name.

“Weird.”

That’s all he’s got to say? I thought. “Yeah, definitely.”

“You’d never seen him before or anything?”

I shook my head. “Have you?”

“No.” He sighed. “That’s another weird coincidence.”

“What is?”

“You’ve told me about two people: Abigail and this weird character. And I don’t know either of them. Never even heard their names.”

“Yeah,” I said. I was lost in my own thoughts. “Weird.”

“Very.”

Reviews

[Farrah]

Wow! That was well written out but do you know those questions you have when you just read a book, well I do and I hope you won't mind: so is the narrator herself have lost her memory because in the end the other person says he never heard of Abigail even though she talked about her a little? Your story is very mysterious and send people to deep questions. I love it! :-)

[Not here]

Thank you Farrah :) I'm really glad. Love your picture by the way.

[Farrah]

Thank you!!:-)