First to Dance (10 page)

“
You do look familiar,” she said.

What is going on here?
she wondered. “Kesi, do you know where Panya is?”

“Yeah, I saw her heading toward the garden with
Ziyad not too long ago.”

Ayita
briefly wondered how long ago ‘not too long ago’ was. Five minutes?
Five weeks?
“Okay, thanks,” she said.  Ayita took a deep breath and glanced toward the garden, but instead she continued walking forward and keeping an eye out for Panya.  She finally found her toward the left sitting on the ground and patching a hole in one of her dresses.  Ayita walked over and sat beside her.

Panya
looked up and nodded to her. “Panya,” she said.

Ayita paused for a moment,
then responded, “Ayita.”

Panya
looked at her strangely for about a second, but then her face lit up and she said, “Ayita!  How good to see you.”

Ayita frowned.  “
Panya, what’s going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why did you give me that strange look just now?”

Panya
shrugged.  “It took me a moment to recognize you.  That’s all.”

“
That’s all?
  How could you forget my face after spending so much time with me today and yesterday?”

“Hey, I remembered.  It just took me a second.” 
Panya looked at her, annoyed.  “You don’t have to get offended over this.”

“I’m not offended; it just doesn’t make any sense.”

“So I had to think about it before I recognized you.  I don’t see what the problem is.”  Panya continued stitching the cloth in her lap. She looked back up. “Why are your clothes wet?”

“
I went to thank Dakarai, but he pulled me into the lake. I nearly drowned again. He didn’t remember me at all. He saved my life yesterday; how could he forget that?”

Panya
shrugged.  “He forgets things better than we do.”

“
You say that like it’s a good thing. I don’t understand.”

Panya
looked up at her, concerned.  “Talk to Ziyad,” she said.  “Maybe he can help you understand.”

Great,
Ayita thought,
talk to Ziyad, whom I’ve only spoken with once.  As if he’ll remember me any more than Kesi did, or Dakarai.
  She shook her head and walked away from the town. She stopped at the garden and picked one of the strange-looking pieces of fruit that Panya had shown her. As soon as she bit into it she wondered whether it could be the food that caused their poor memory, and she threw the fruit to the ground.  Her stomach growled at her, but she didn’t know what to do.  Nothing made sense. She left the garden and walked toward the lone table-top tree by the lake. She sat down under the tree and watched the sunset. Somewhere out there her parents lived without a daughter, and Aira lived without a best friend. They weren’t perfect, but they loved her, they knew her, and they would never forget her.

“What have I done?” Ayita whispered.

Ayita awoke to the same
melodic sound she heard the day before when she was walking through the forest.  It sounded now like it was coming from the lake.  Ayita stood and stretched before walking by moonlight in that direction.  She took notice of the moon.  It was darker than the one she could see from Zozeis, and the light it reflected wasn’t nearly as bright, but it was very beautiful and pleasant to the eyes.  As she neared the lake and the music, Ayita felt that same urge as before to dance rather than walk.

It was the s
ame sad-sounding melody, and, thought Ayita, it was the emotion which made the whole thing so beautiful and captivated her heart.  When she got to the lake she noticed right away the stillness on the water.   She felt drawn to it, though she wasn’t sure why, and as she stepped closer a small branch cracked beneath her foot.  The song abruptly ended, and fear rushed into her mind as she realized how close to the lake she had come.  There was movement to her left, and she looked just in time to see a figure come up out of the tall grass by the river and run off into the forest down the path.

“Wait!” Ayita shouted, and she sprinted after him.  She had a
difficult time keeping up, but she had an idea that he was headed for the lake by the waterfall.  He turned the corner at the end of the path, and by the time she got there he was gone.  She slowly approached the lake to see, but there was no sign of him having jumped in.  Upon hearing a noise behind her, Ayita quickly stepped away from the lake and looked into the forest.  It seemed a lot darker now than before.  He jumped down from the branches of a tall tree and stepped out toward her, into the moonlight where she could see his face.

“Why were you spying on me?”
Dakarai asked.

“I wasn’t!”  Ayita took one more
careful step away from the water.

“Then why were you there by the lake?  Why did you follow me here?”

“I heard that sound.  It’s beautiful, you know.  I had to see where it was coming from.” 

“You mean this?”  He pulled out what looked like a stick, but Ayita noticed by viewing more closely that it was hollow and had holes along one side. 
Dakarai brought the thing to his mouth and blew into it, producing one long and clear note.

Ayita smiled.  “Yes,” she said.  “That.”  She reached out her hand to touch it.  He
flinched it away, and hesitated before handing it to her.  “What is it?” Ayita asked. She turned it over in her hands and studied it, taking in every detail.

Dakarai
frowned.  “I don’t remember what it’s called.”

“Oh.”  She sighed. 
She rolled her eyes. “I suppose I should know better than to ask you any questions,” she said.

Dakarai
glared at her and snatched the instrument back.  “It is mine.  That’s what it is.”

“
Dakarai, I’m sorry.”  Ayita took a step closer to him.  “I’m just not used to…this.”

“Used to what?”

“People forgetting things.”

“How can you not be?”

“Because I’m not from here.  I’m from another planet.  People remember things where I’m from.”

Dakarai
considered this awhile before saying, “So you don’t know me any more than I should know you?”

Ayita shook her head.

“But you know my name.”

“
Panya told me.”

“And you remembered?”

“I always remember.”

“Then you are lucky,” he said, walking past her and
stopping to kneel beside the lake.  He picked up a flat, smooth stone and tossed it to the water.  The stone skipped off the surface twice before sinking.

Ayita walk
ed up and sat beside him, hopeful that nothing would inspire him to push her into the water again. They sat silent a while and when again he spoke, the sound of his voice startled her.

“You are the girl from the water,” he said.  “I wanted to see what it was that came from the sky, and I found a girl.”  He turned to look at her.  “You can’t swim, can you?”

Ayita shook her head.

“Why?”

“I never had the chance to learn.  There aren’t any lakes where I’m from.”

“No lakes?”

“None. All our water comes from underground and when it rains.”

Dakarai
fell silent again, studying her face for a long time.  Ayita found it a bit uncomfortable, but she didn’t say anything about it.  Finally, he said, “You look different when your hair is dry.”

Ayita let out a short laugh
to ease her tension.  “Doesn’t everyone?” she asked.

“No,”
Dakarai told her.  “Some people look the same no matter what condition they’re in.”

Ayita thought about this as he picked up and threw another small
rock.  This one sank the first time it hit the water.

“I don’t remember your name,” he said.

“Ayita.”

“You’ll have to remind me
of that the next time I see you, Ayita.”

“I know.”

Dakarai nodded, then leaned back to lie down so that he was staring at the stars in the sky, and the moon.  “What’s it like where you came from?” he asked.

Ayita lay
back as well but didn’t say anything at first; she wondered if there was a point in telling him since it seemed unlikely he’d remember any of what she had to say.  But for the first time in her life, she realized she could say anything she had on her mind and trust that it wouldn’t be repeated or used against her.

She began by telling him about her parents, most especially about her
father, how she longed for him to be proud of her, and how he had encouraged her when she left.  She talked about Aira and how they became friends at a very young age but started to grow apart as they got older.   Then she told him about the books in her basement and finding the space station.

“You left because they didn’t accept you for your differences?” he asked once she stopped speaking.

Ayita nodded. “That was part of the reason.”

“Is it better here?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“But it’s different.”

Ayita nodded.  “Yeah.”

“And you have to accept that.”  He rolled to his side and looked at her.  Ayita kept her stare to the stars, not wanting to look him in the eyes. 
She didn’t know how to answer him. Finally she closed her eyes and focused her attention to the sound of the waterfall.  The waterfall muffled all other sounds. When she opened her eyes again, Dakarai was no longer lying in the grass beside her but sitting under his table-top tree.  She walked over by him and again picked up the long stick that made the beautiful noise, which was on the ground by his side.

When he looked up at her she brought the end of it near her mouth.  “May I?”

Dakarai shrugged his shoulders.  “Go ahead.”

Ayita blew into the instrument, but no sound came out.

“Your lips have to be closer together,” he said, without even looking at the way she had her mouth.  “And your upper lip should be out further than your bottom lip.”  Ayita tried this and at first there was no sound, but then for a brief moment a high-pitched note came out and silenced.  “If you keep trying you’ll get it eventually,” he told her.

Ayita nodded
, but instead of trying again she brought it down away from her face and handed it back to him.  He touched her hand briefly and their eyes met.

“Does it bother you that we
’re forgetful?” Dakarai asked.

Ayita took a deep breath. 
I’m never going to lie again,
she reminded herself.  “It does,” she admitted.

Dakarai
looked away from her and smiled.  “I like you, Ayita. You’re not quite like the others.” He turned the instrument over in his hands and then set it down between them.

“What do you mean?” she asked him.

“They don’t have a problem with forgetting.  They just accept it.  Sometimes I wonder if I’m the only person here who wants to remember my life.”  He picked up the instrument again.  “I don’t remember where I got this, or who taught me to play, but I know that whoever it was loved me very much.  I wish I could remember,” he said. They sat together in silence for some time before he said in an obvious hint for her to leave, “I’m getting tired.”

Ayita nodded, and yawned.  “It
is late,” she said.  “Thank you for the conversation.”

“Forgive me if I don’t remember you tomorrow.”

She nodded.  “I will, Dakarai.”

8

The next morning, Ayita’s stomach was bothering her too much to ignore, so she went to the garden and reluctantly started eating, hoping with all she had that it wasn’t in the food to affect her memory.  It was early in the morning and it wasn’t very bright out. Only a few people were awake.  Among them was Ziyad, who she noticed approaching for breakfast as well.

“Hello
, Ziyad,” she said to him.

He turned to look at her. 
“Oh, hello Ayita.”

Ayita almost dropped the food in her hand.  “You remember!” she said.

Ziyad knowingly smirked and nodded his head.  “Panya told me you remember everything with perfect memory. No one is like that here, but I seem to have a better memory than anyone else.  It’s both a gift and a curse.”