Kei

  The Sun rises, light pouring in through my window, and I am sitting up in my soft bed. I haven’t slept since I started awake hours ago.

  I’ve just been sitting here, thinking.

  My father is lost to me. Whatever trail existed in the forest burned to cold ash weeks ago. Kestrel has moved on. The authorities have found nothing. And my memories are gone.

  A face, a name. That’s all I have left.

  But if my memories are not gone… Then there’s still a trail. One that goes straight through my head, into my past.

  I’m the only witness left, and for now, I know nothing. But if my memories are starting to stir, then there is a way back to my father.

  And even if he died in that forest, I will find the one person in the world who has ever loved me.

  I’ll never be whole until I do.

  So I will.

  ***

  I get dressed, glancing out the window when I’m done, still thinking.

  There’s been a bit of déjà vu in the back of my head almost since I arrived here, but so far I don’t recognize a single landmark.

  The people, then? Or just the situation?

  Something’s familiar about this place. Not the school itself. I haven’t been here, or if I have, the memory’s still too deeply buried.

  But a school full of ‘special children’? That feels all too familiar.

  A special school, I think. With special facilities. I wonder, what do they have which can help with memory? Time to ask a few questions.

  I open my bedroom door, sniff the air, and follow my nose.

  “Hey Anya,” I say as I wander into the kitchen to the sizzle and smell of frying bacon and eggs, “I just had a question…”

  “Me, too,” Anya grins back. “Sunnyside up, scrambled or over easy?” She sees me pause, as that wasn’t quite what was on my mind. “Did you just remember you’re vegan, or something? I could stir up something else if you are.”

  I shake my head. “Let’s try sunnyside. I don’t remember my favorite.” I shrug. “Maybe I am a vegan.” Probably not, though. I vaguely recall eating seafood. But thinking of the shark, maybe I’m remembering seafood eating me. Hmm.

  “Sooo… what was your question?” Haley asks as she strolls into the kitchen, still in her robe and bunny slippers. And still yawning as she picks up a fresh mug of coffee from the Keurig and snatches a slice of bacon up out of the popping grease. Apparently without getting burned. Which means she’s much faster than I realized, or a lot better at hiding the pain when she gets scorched.

  I ignore the display. Well, not entirely, but at least I grab my bacon from a few pieces Anya’s dumped on a plate beside the stove. I crunch through a piece quickly, savoring the flavor as I mull my words.

  Haley is staring at me over the rim of her mug, and I can smell fresh coffee flavored with s’mores as we focus on each other.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  “Does your gifted school have any floatation tanks?” I ask. “Or is there some kind of float spa in the area?”

  Haley nods, slowly. “You think that might help with your memories?”

  I nod back. “Or trigger something that might help, anyway.”

  Anya hands me another fresh mug of coffee. This one smells of cinnamon.

  I smile at her. “This will help too.”

  “Waycross has both,” Haley tells me. “Floatation tanks on campus, which you can use for independent study, or as part of a class. But it also has float spas.”

  Anya clears her throat, and gives Haley a look.

  Haley gives her a look back. An I was just getting to that look. “We also have a few in the house, in the basement.” She shrugs. “Dad – Joe – does a lot of new construction, and high-end remodeling. And plenty of people in Waycross want to take their decade-old ‘vintage homes’ and add all the new bells and whistles to their mansion.”

  “And if you’re not scared of the water at this point,” Joey the Younger says, ambling in to sniff at the platter of bacon, “you can do all the floating you want right here, free of charge.”

  “Assuming someone else isn’t using it,” Haley adds.

  “Which only Haley does all the time,” Joey shoots back. “And she can’t hog all three at once, so it’s no problem.” He tips the platter, and about a third of the bacon slides onto the plate that appears in his hand like a magic trick. Followed by the sizzle of two sunny-side-up eggs landing beside the pork before he can slip away with it.

  “Eat them both,” Anya warns Joey, pointing her spatula at him.

  “Of course,” he grins, setting the plate down on the counter beside a fork and napkin, and setting to it. I settle down next to him as Anya passes a plate of eggs and bacon to go with my coffee.

  Then I realize what’s odd about breakfast. Usually, that’s my job. Sometimes something traditional like this, for America, sometimes just miso soup and a rice dish or something.

  I pause for a second, glancing around the kitchen, then shake my head.

  Nothing. I can’t remember a thing beyond that first impression. But really, it’s a start. And right now, I’ll take anything I can get.

  Emily wanders in, and tosses fruit into a weirdly insulated juicer and starts making a smoothy with surprisingly little noise. “Want one?” she asks me. “Or just some orange juice?”

  I go with the juice. Things are strange enough already, so I’ll take things slow. Also, I’m not sure how Emily’s smoothies taste. I could swear some kale just went in with the fruit. A lot of kale.

  “Nice hoody,” Joey remarks, looking over at me. “Is the school going to let you wear that?”

  I glance down, and realize that over my uniform, I’ve tossed on a huge white, featureless ‘Ignore Me’ hoody for a bit of warmth and the illusion of anonymity. Illusion because, now that I’m thinking about it at all, appearing at school out of uniform is going to make me way more conspicuous than toeing the sartorial line.

  “Maybe not inside,” I admit. “But it’ll keep me warm until we get there.” Mentally, I shrug. I can pull off the hoody when I get to school, and in the meantime it looks a bit nippy outside.

  “Besides,” I add, thinking of Joey’s gift, “I got a cool new white bag, and this goes with it perfectly.”

  He grins. “Glad ya like it. Just don’t let the school eat you alive.”

  I shake my head dismissively. “They’d choke on me.”

  He laughs, doubtless thinking of the shark his gift bag is an homage to. “Touche.”

  “I just bet they would,” Emily agrees with a yawn. She then subtly holds her nose and takes a huge draught of her fresh smoothy, then blinks furiously.

  So do I. I could swear there’s a hint of wasabi in the air, along with the fruit and kale. And bacon and eggs, of course. If it’s actually in her smoothy, then I’m doubling down on orange juice every morning.

  Though judging from the scent, and Emily’s watering eyes, the dose she’s just gotten must really clear her sinuses. While, you know, burning them out.

  Emily gives a small gasp and sets down the remainder of her smoothy. “Got to take it in small doses,” she says to my questioning look. “New recipe.”

  “New poison,” Joey remarks, eyes wide. He’s smelled the wasabi, too.

  I’d give him a warning look, but I’m really inclined to agree. And so, apparently, is Emily.

  “Just something I’m trying out,” Emily says.

  “Death by wasabi,” Tam remarks with a yawn, stumbling in. “Emily makes veganism exciting.”

  “I’m not even fully vegetarian,” Emily corrects her.

  “None of the principles, all of the pain,” Joey confirms, crunching down more bacon.

  Emily sighs, but doesn’t disagree.

  Haley walks back in the room, her uniform on and perfectly fitted to her. Aside from the bunny slippers, which she’s still wearing. I didn’t even notice her leave, but unless the uniform was on under her robe, she changes fast.

  My gaze barely flicks in her direction, but she follows my eyes anyway. “The slippers are really comfortable,” she explains, plopping down in another chair at the kitchen island, a refilled coffee mug steaming in her hand. “I’ll switch before we go.” She pauses. “Speaking of which, you’re up early and look ready. If you’re interested, there’s just enough time for a quick float and a quicker shower.”

  Anya nods. “Just enough. I can drive. If you want, Kei, Haley can set you up now.”

  I nod serenely, but inside, my heart pounds. A possible workaround for getting even some of my memories back. Assuming it works.

  Assuming it doesn’t take weeks, or months, or years. Or treatments, drugs, therapy.

  But this is the first chance I’ve had, and I suddenly realize a clock has been ticking down behind me, invisibly, ever since I escaped Kestrel in the woods.

  Ever since I left my dad for good. Maybe for dead.

  Because staying would surely kill him.

  “I’ll do it,” I say. “Right now.” I pause. “And thank you,” I add, looking from Anya to Haley, and then to Joey, Emily and Tam, who is just stumbling into the room. “Thank you for all of this.”

  Haley takes my arm and ushers me down the stairs.

  To the sensory deprivation tanks they just happen to have in the basement.

  And maybe the keys to my past.

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