Memory Girl (30 page)

I'm lying back in a chair with my mouth open—no, not my mouth, but Milly's—and I'm with someone with an oddly name: dentist. A health-worker for teeth. He promises, “This won't hurt.” But he lies.

A paper napkin is strung like a white scarf around Milly's neck. She trembles, but pain doesn't scarify me; it's the fear of nothingness.

Without memories, will I exist?

Silver slashes across my eyes. A sharpened cutting tool, poised in the scientist's hand, aimed at my neck, coming closer ….

A door bangs and someone shouts, “Stop!”

“Daniel, put down that scalpel!”

Lila's voice. High-pitched, forceful, and furious.

White-gloved hands fall away and a flowery fragrance swirls around me. I'm floating somewhere between dreams and memories, and I wonder if Lila is really here or if my mind is playing tricks. I drift on shimmering clouds until the voice jerks me back again.

“Why wasn't I told Jennza was here?” I open my blurring eyes and see purple robes and silvery coiled hair.

“A Returned youth has no identity.” Frost's words are wind gusts battering my head. “Who she was doesn't matter.”

“It does to me.” Lila's words are hard-edged, but her fingers, gently grasping my hand, are soft and gentle.

“I can handle this without your help, dear sister.” There is no warmth in this statement. “It's only a routine operation.”

“Like hell it is!”

“Why are you so agitated, Lila?” her brother asks calmly.

“You know damn well!” she shouts. “Put down your tools and get away from her. This procedure is cancelled.”

Scientist Daniel points the tool's sharp tip at her. “Leader Cross ordered this youth Returned.”

“I'm giving you a new order. No one touches her. I'm taking full responsibility for her.”

“Lila, it's not wise to oppose the Leaders.”

“Would you rather oppose me, brother?” she challenges. “You couldn't stop me from doing what I knew was right when we were kids. Don't try to stop me now.”

“It's been a long time since we were kids, and I don't appreciate you bringing our personal lives into the operating room.” His face darkens.

“This is personal, and we both know it. You warned me to stay away from the youths, but I didn't. So this is how you get back at me—by harming an innocent youth.”

“Innocent?” he barks. “Leader Cross said she broke the killer Noc out of jail.”

She gasps. “He escaped?”

“Not only did she help him get away, she also attacked a Family member. She's demented, like the last youth.”

“You know nothing about her. Stand aside, Daniel.”

The screaming in my mind silences as Lila's arms lift me, holding me close. I inhale a perfume of flowers and safety.

“Are you all right, Jennza?”

I want to nod, but I'm floppy as a willow limb. I fear Scientist Daniel will force me back to the table or Frost will clamp me into chains. But no one stops Lila as she half-drags me to the door. I hold onto my consciousness until the lab door slams.

My legs buckle and dizziness spins me away.

A child's toy scissors cutting paper dolls, clipping around the black-drawn outline of legs, feet, arms, shoulders, and the sunflower-blond head of a smiling paper girl. A princess made of paper.
Paper doll,
the word comes to me. I watch Milly playing with paper figures.

“I'll call you Lissalynn and cut out a prince for you to
marry so you can live happily ever after,” five-year-old Milly tells the paper girl. I'm holding a waxy stick—
crayon—
a yellow color for the prince's golden hair. The crayon breaks in my hand, smearing a muddy trail across the paper. A wave of seawater splashes the prince's eyes sea blue. The paper prince swells bigger until he's taller than me, with long legs that spring from paper to life.

Nate. He reaches for me, and I try to run to him. But when I look down at myself there are no legs, arms, or body. He's flesh while I'm less than a paper drawing. I'm no one anymore, and he can't see me.

A door creaks.

Snapping upright, my fingers brush a smooth silk pillow. Not my pillow. The darkness is too dark, without the comforting sliver of light peeking through window shutters. I'm in a room so silent I can only hear the
beat-beat
of my own heart. No soft snores from the bed on the other side of the room. No Rosemarie. Where am I?

My eyes adjust, and I see the faint shape of a lamp. Fumbling on the smooth oval surface, I touch a knob and twist. Light flashes on, illuminating blankets, a downy soft pillow, fawn-brown oval rugs, curtains the color of mustard, and a glass vase blooming with lilacs on a table in a room I've never seen before.

But I know the person sitting in a chair beside my bed.

“How are you feeling, Jennza?” Scientist Lila jumps to her feet, coming over to my bed.

After weeks of “Milly,” I love the sound of my name. Something like hope rises in me as I lift my chin, meeting Lila's gaze. I can remember each time we've spoken. I still don't understand her interest in me, but I'm grateful. If not
for her, I wouldn't know my own name.

Lila's purple jacket billows around her as she smooths a corner of my blanket, sitting beside me. When she squeezes my hand, her skin is tough yet gentle, weathered by sun and life. I study the fine lines around her lips and silver strands of hair sweeping across her forehead. Her eyes are like the darkest corner in my cave, with depths beyond my knowing.

“I'm so sorry you suffered, Jennza. This never should have happened,” she says fiercely. “My brother went too far.”

“You … you saved me.”

“I wasn't soon enough,” she says sadly. She reaches out to touch my head. “Your hair … so lovely … cut.”

My arms are heavy as I feel the jagged edges of my hair—or what's left of it. Instead of falling past my shoulders, it stops high over my neck. I won't be able to hide Petal anymore. But if she comes looking for me, I won't be a zombie-brain who doesn't remember her.

“Hair grows back—memories don't,” I say gratefully.

“You're safe now. I promise nothing like this will ever happen again.”

“They would have turned me into a droll if you hadn't stopped them.” I lift my gaze to hers. “Why did you help me?”

“I couldn't let them do that … not to you.”

“Why am I different than other youths?”

“It's because you
are
different that sets you apart.”

“But if it had been another youth, like my mate, Lorelei, would you have saved her?”

“It was you,” she says, brushing her hand across my cheek.

I shake my head, still not understanding.

Scientist Lila scoots close to me on the bed. “You don't fall into step with the others and have a unique sense of
curiosity. At your Celebraze, even when you stood in a line of youths, you stood apart, restless and curious.”

“And scarified,” I admit. I am tempted to add that I know she spied on me after the Celebraze, but I'm so grateful to her for saving me and don't want to cause trouble between us.

“While I am still furious at my brother for what he almost did to you,” she tells me, “I am glad you are here. I see much potential in you.”

Potential for what
? Her words should comfort me, but they're like being given a gift box I can't open because it's sealed shut. Something wonderful or something terriful might be inside, but I have no way of knowing.

“What will happen now?” I peer into the dark, unfamiliar room.

“You'll rest until you feel better.”

“But after that?” My fingers dig into the silky pillow. “Frost said a Returned youth has no identity. Where will I go?”

“Nowhere. You'll stay here.”

“How can I? I have to be in a Family.”

She glances toward the window, where the curtains are as closed as her expression. “You can't go back … not to any Family.”

“But there's no other life for a youth,” I argue.

“If you step outside this compound, the Uniforms will arrest you.”

“Arrest me?” Hot fear grips me. “Do the Leaders know I wasn't Returned?”

“Yes, but they have been informed you're my guest.”

“What if they come after me?”

“They have no authority here and can't enter the compound. No one can unless we invite them—which is rare.”
She twists her lips wryly. “Scientists and leaders have been differing for over a century. We conflict over progress versus conformity and choose to stay separate from ShareHaven. They resent us yet need our miracles for immortality. While you're here, they can't harm you.”

“And if I leave?” I ask uneasily.

“They will order your execution. I can't interfere with their laws.”

“My Family will be angry that I wasn't Returned,” I say with a shudder. “Not about me, but about Milly. I have her childhood memories.”

“Already?” Frowning, she leans close to my neck. “They should have waited longer for your first memdenity.”

“Rosemarie was eager to have her sister again. We … I mean, they … went through a lot together, surviving the mind-plague and coming to this island.”

Milly's past and my present blend in my foggy mind. I rub my head to push away the confusion. “Did you know Milly?”

“Not well, but this isn't a large island, and we were much closer before the Attack. I was at her wedding to Arthur—a pleasant man who suited her well.”

I cringe at his name, remembering his hands on me. “He is … I mean … would have been my husband.”

“A good reason for starting a new life.” She smiles. “Forget the Cross Family. They deserve to lose you.”

“It's not me they lost … it's Milly.”

Milly's memories spin through my head—sunshine, sandy beaches, and white-tipped waves. Pacific Ocean. Gliding storm gulls … no, they're called seagulls. Long, mournful horns from boats and buildings spiraling into the
sky. A neighborhood of colorful houses pressing against each other. Naomi, my best friend, lived across the street, and we had tea parties with our stuffed toys. Summer smells of cut grass, splashing in a plastic pool, my dog Sadie licking my face, bike rides, school, backpacks, birthday parties, and horse rides on Sunny.

“Are you okay?” Lila asks.

I suck in air, then exhale away the images. “Milly's memories are so vivid I have to remind myself I've never lived outside ShareHaven. I know what it's like to travel in the sky on a plane and to be part of a retro-family—with biological parents and siblings.” I sigh. “My little brother … I mean, Milly's … died in the mind-plague. Remembering his smile and how he loved dinosaur toys makes me hurt inside. He never made it to age six.”

“If it's too sad to remember, I can fix that.”

I sit up straight. “What do you mean?”

“If you choose, Milly's memories can be removed.”

“I can't go to the health-workers. You said I'd be arrested if I left here.”

“That's true. But there's no need to go anywhere.” Her dark eyes dance with humor. “Scientists created memdenity. We taught the health-keepers how to administer the process. I can easily remove every thought of Milly's.”

“Can Milly's childhood memories be saved for another youth?” I think of Arthur, sobbing over his lost wife, and I wince with guilt.

“Memories can only be transferred once.”

“So Arthur was right.” I sigh. “Milly's childhood will die outside of me?”

“You must decide what's best for you. I can free you of
Milly's memories.”

It seems so final—like a double murder.

“It's your choice. What do you want?” she persists.

“To keep them … keep Milly. She's alive to me, even though she died long before I was born. I don't want her memories to be lost because of me.”

Lila pats my arm gently. “Worthwhile endeavors require sacrifice. Don't blame yourself.”

“I am to blame, although I don't regret helping ….” I glance down before I say too much.

“The Nocturne,” she finishes for me. “I wondered why you risked so much to help a subhuman.”

“He's as human as I am,” I argue. “I couldn't let him die.”

“In retro-century an accused person would have a fair trial and lawyer, but that practice has been abandoned by ShareHaven's justice system.” She taps her finger to her chin as if thinking deeply. “Did the Nocturne convince you he was innocent?”

“No.” I shake my head. “He's guilty.”

“Yet you helped him anyway. You must care much for him.”

Heat rushes to my face. “I barely know him.”

“No need to defend your actions to me. Long before I came to this island, there was someone I loved so much that I left my home, job, and family to become his wife and live on this island. I never regretted one moment of our time together. The only thing I regret is not having children. We tried … but it didn't work out. He wanted a little girl with my dark hair and eyes, and I'd tease back that I'd rather have a boy with his blue eyes.” She touches my cheek softly. “You remind me of him. You have the same curious, determined spirit.”