Perception (25 page)

I didn’t have to wait
long before I noticed movement on the terrace. A blond head.

When I saw it was
Zoe, my chest almost burst. I’d dreamed of this moment–Zoe catching sight of me
and running into my arms.

She paused when she
spotted me. Her face didn’t break into her gorgeous smile, and she didn’t dash my
way. Instead she waved and said a timid hello.

Maybe the surfer
shorts and muscle shirt threw her off. She’d never seen me in anything but
jeans and a t-shirt before.

“Zoe, it’s me.”

She tossed her
flip-flops off and crossed the sand. She had on a pair of beach shorts and a
white button-down, short sleeved shirt. She put a hand over her eyes and
stared.

“Who?”

With that word, my
heart sank. A heavy knowing of what Dr. Vanderveen had meant when he said he
would fix her.

She didn’t remember me.

She didn’t
remember me.

I stepped a little
closer but worried about stepping into the sight-line of the house.

“It’s me, Noah.”

“Do I know you?”

I collapsed to the
sand. What had that psychopath done? A memory inhibitor? The man had no conscience.

“Yes, you know me.”

“I don’t remember.” She
sat on the sand a safe distance away. “My brother died, and well, I don’t
really remember much since then. My father says I’ve been in shock.”

Paul Vanderveen was
covering for his father. I wondered how much he knew.

Zoe gathered her flyaway
hair and twisted it into a knot at the nap of her neck. “Were you a friend of
my brother’s?”

“No. I’m
your
friend.”

She tilted her head
as she studied me. “Funny, I don’t remember you. Are you a GAP? You don’t look
like one?”

I felt like I’d been
punched in the gut. How had they done it? Brain drugs? Nanobot injection? But
the biggest question was whether it would last. Was there something I could do
to bring her back?

Instead of answering
her question, I said, “My mother used to be your housekeeper.”

“Saundra?”

“Yes,” I said,
excited that she remembered her.

“She was sick, wasn’t
she?”

“She’s still pretty
sick. You’ve been to my house. Do you remember? It’s on the outside.”

She scuttled a little
farther away from me. “I don’t go to the outside. My grandfather says the
naturals can’t be trusted, and he’s Senator William Vanderveen, you know. He’s
going to be president. He said it’s safer for me to stay inside the gates.”

I sighed hard. It was
worse than I’d thought. Zoe’d had her memories wiped and she’d been brain-washed.
It was suddenly hard to breathe, hard to swallow. I squeezed my eyes shut,
pushing down the pain.

“Are you okay?” she said.
“Did you get something in your eye?”

“I’m fine,” I muttered.

“I should go.”

“No, wait. Please.
Just sit here with me. We don’t have to talk.”

She hesitated then
wrapped her arms around her knees. She seemed at peace, child-like, so unlike
the Zoe I’d known, the girl on a determined quest for truth. I wondered if
Alison and Paul Vanderveen were happier with this version of their daughter.

I wanted to keep
asking questions, wanted to shake her memories awake, but I was afraid she’d
take off like a frightened bird if I said anything more. I watched her profile and
my heart broke.

“Why do you keep
staring at me?” she said.

Because I love you
. “No reason.”

The waves crashed to
shore, the tide creeping up as the waterline moved closer to our feet. Small
crabs side-stepped along the darkened sand; seagulls squawked overhead.

“Are you not going to
surf?” she said, pointing at my board.

“I’ve changed my
mind.”

“Oh.”

Every single moment
of the crazy weeks I’d spent with Zoe rolled through my mind. She’d worked so
hard to get to the truth about what really happened to Liam, to get the truth
about her own identity. The truth about how she felt about me.

Now she was worse off
than before. Every memory of our time together was gone.

“I’ve missed you, Zoe”
I didn’t realize the words had come out of my mouth until it was too late.

She stood. “I really
have to go. My mother will worry. Maybe we’ll meet up again someday.”

“I hope so.”

“Good bye, Noah.”

I didn’t want to say
it. She waited, then waved. I whispered after her. “Good bye, Zoe.”

I watched until she
disappeared to the upper terrace and into the house. A hard lump formed in my
throat as I tried to make sense of it all.

I had a choice to
make. Leave Zoe alone and let her live a make-believe but peaceful, contented
and
safe
life.

Or somehow fight for
her memories to return and give her back the truth she’d fought so hard to find.

I lay my stomach flat
on the surfboard and pushed away from the shore. I paddled hard against the
waves, throwing all my anger and frustration into every stroke.

Chapter 34

Ma died on Monday.
I’d gone home after seeing Zoe and I knew there was trouble when I saw Skye’s
face.

I knelt by my
mother’s bed.

“Ma? It’s me.”

Her words were low
and labored. “Noah, my son. Keep the faith.”

Those were her last
words. I held her icy hand as her heart stopped. Skye reached over and gently
closed her eyes.

Davis bawled and Skye
carried him out of the room, whispering soothing words into his ears. Jonathon
stood stiffly on the other side of the bed, his eyes and nose leaking down his
face. Though he was almost as tall as me and filling out, in the shaded room he
looked fragile and vulnerable.

“It’s going to be all
right,” I said to him.

“How? How’s it going
to be all right? We’re orphans now.”

I crossed the room
and wrapped my arms around my little brother. He sobbed into my shoulder and I
swallowed hard, unable to keep my own tears at bay.

After the funeral,
Skye moved into our house with the boys. Ma had enough insurance to pay off the
house and provide a small monthly allowance so Skye didn’t have to work when
the boys were home from school.

I moved out to the
cabin. I told them I’d be back, that I just needed some time alone.

Now I stood at the
oche line. I aimed and threw.

Bull’s-eye. Only this
time it wasn’t a dart I’d thrown. It was Grant’s knife. I stepped up to the
board, worked the knife out of the corky surface and returned to the line to
throw again.

I could kidnap Zoe
and help her get her memory back.

Kidnap
was the wrong word. Too strong.
Rescue
Zoe. I could go back
to Sol City to rescue her from her lying, thieving family.

The knife whipped
through the air hitting the bull’s-eye with a whack.

At least, when I
looked at it that way, I could justify all the laws I’d have to break to pull
it off.

Including some lying
and thievery.

I slapped away a fly
and pushed my hair off my sweating brow. It had grown in the last month and a
half. Usually I’d get Skye to buzz it off for me. I was starting to look like a
surfer-dude, which, it turned out, would come in handy.

With the knife
positioned between my thumb and forefinger, I held it up to eye level and stood
at the oche line once again.

Even though I hated
to, I had to consider the alternative.

Leaving Zoe alone.
She was a GAP girl, through and through. And as much as it tore my heart to
shreds, she looked happy, at least a little bit. She belonged in Sol City, lies
and all.

The knife handle
vibrated like a fish’s tale when it hit the board. Wide this time.

Should I save her?
Should I let her go? My heart prayed for a sign.

The heat bearing down
on my dark head prompted me to find relief indoors, and the crooked wooden step
creaked as I went in.

The cabin had been
shut up for two years and had the dust build up and stale air to show for it.
I’d found cleaning supplies under the sink and a broom in the closet by the
door and I’d spent most of the first day sweeping, wiping and cleaning until
the small abode smelled disinfected and appeared orderly.

I hand-washed the
bedding that had been left on the bottom bunk in one of the two small rooms and
hung the sheets out to dry in the sun.

A bowl, glass and
spoon were washed and drying in a dish rack by the single sink. Indirect
sunlight brightened the room. An over-sized chair and a couch with a
hand-knitted afghan draped over its back faced a wood stove built into the
corner. A stack of wood beside it remained untouched.

I shoved the kitchen
table against the outside wall and propped up my computer pen. The virtual
keyboard appeared on the table; the virtual monitor waved slightly against the
crooked wall.

I didn’t know what to
do about Zoe, but I’d decided one thing. I opened my blog page, a site I hadn’t
visited for weeks. I set it up with an encrypted address and counted on that to
keep Grant from tracking me to this spot.

I breathed deeply,
and started typing.

***

I thought the
secluded quiet of the cabin would’ve been conducive to prayer. I’d even found
one of my father’s old bibles which I opened and laid on the kitchen table.
Even after I’d put my hands together, closed my eyes and bowed my head, I
couldn’t get any further than
Dear Lord.

The words just
wouldn’t come.

Before I could change
my mind, I grabbed my helmet and hopped onto my scooter.

Now I sat on the pew
in the church facing the altar, staring at the color-tinted dust particles
floating in the stream of sunshine from the stain glass windows. Here I could
pray.

But still, I had no
answers. Like Ma used to say, no answer was probably the answer
no
. My
chest grew heavy when I thought of her, but she got what she wanted how she
wanted it. I couldn’t judge her for that.

I’d leave her to rest
in peace. And I should leave Zoe in peace, too. I needed to be strong and to
get on with my life.

Ma had also said that
my father’s fight was not my fight. Maybe it wasn’t then, but it was now. My
determination to pick up where my father had left off was renewed. Someone
needed to fight for the rights of naturals and stop GAP exploitation. My
grandfather had resisted as a scientist. My father had resisted as a preacher.
I would resist, too.

And I’d keep my
bargain with Grant and stay away from Zoe.

Despite having made
this decision, I felt restless. I tried playing the guitar, but my agitation
refused to ebb. I grabbed my helmet and slipped out the back door, pushing my
scooter around toward the courtyard and the main road. I stopped half way to
put on my helmet, a precaution against being recognized, when I saw a familiar
profile.

No way.

Even with a hat and
glasses, I’d know that face anywhere. Zoe Vanderveen stood not ten feet away in
front of the church steps. Her head was bent back, and she was staring at the
clock tower, her face tense with concentration.

“Zoe?”

She stepped back,
startled.

“It’s me, Noah. I saw
you on the beach a couple weeks ago, remember?”

She nodded her head
slowly, removing her glasses. “I remember.”

“What are you doing
here? I thought your grandfather told you it wasn’t safe to go to the outside?”

“I was curious.” She
took tentative step back.

“It’s okay. I’m not
going to hurt you.”

“Oh, I know, it’s
just...”

“Do you remember the
church?”

“Oh, no,” she said
quickly. “Of course not. I’ve never been here before.”

I felt slapped by her
words. Vanderveen had done his job well.

“Are you sure?”

Her eyes narrowed,
like she was surprised by my question. “Yes, I’m sure. I would know, wouldn’t
I?”

“I suppose.” I shifted
my helmet into my other hand. “Would you like to go in? I could show you
around.”

Her cheeks flushed
red, and she nibbled her lip, considering. “Um, no. I shouldn’t. Really, I’ve
got to go. My boyfriend will be worried.”

“Jackson?”

She cocked her head.
“Yes, do you know him?”

The jerkwad didn’t
care in the least that Zoe had been altered like this? The muscles in my face
tightened as I nodded.