The Power of Forgetting (31 page)

‘I believe you.
But this weather will kill us all if we stay here. And we cannot
break camp. We would have to leave the dome behind. There are only
five of us left.’

‘What about
Janey? I mean…. My sister…’

‘Janey has to
get through on the radio. We’ve been scanning the frequencies for
anything that we can sneak onto. Eavesdrop as it were. Davey can do
some technical whizz thing that means we can convert a speaker into
a microphone. Or something like that.’

‘Are we
near?’

‘Yes. It seems
that the copy was right. It is just over the next ridge and down
into a valley. But the thing is…. We are nearer to the sea than we
thought we would be. The land curves round and then straightens. It
is a kind of low strip of land that divides their camp from the
rest of this place. It might even be that the tide may cut it off
when it comes in. we can’t see much more. Oliver and Davey have
been out to investigate. I can’t do much else with so many people
down.’

‘What about
Adam? What about James? And the others?’

‘Hush now….
Calm down. We can’t help anyone until we know what the situation
is. The copy went down the mountain the long way round. That means
she would have to reach the shoreline before she could starts
walking back towards their camp.’

‘But we don’t
even know that is where she came from. There could be more going on
than just Alexander and his plotting.’

‘You think that
there are other powers at work here…. Of course there are. It is
way past the point of common sense. This weird snow storm. The time
dislocation we experienced. Different things. Different types of
strange. We had our team just spirited away into thin air!’

‘But Adam and
James are back at home.’

‘Who told you
that? I assure you they are not! Anyway, it’s time for you to rest
a little. I’ll check every ten minutes. And Davey will talk to you
soon.’

There was a
stretch of time that followed, which seemed to last so long.... It
was actually a half hour short of a full twenty-four hours since
that incident with the third version copy. But the following
evening; as my friends sat around me I didn't really know why they
were so shocked still. As the evening wore on, memory returned in
broken pieces. Some didn't seem to fit the whole at all; but there
it was: -----

I had closed my
eyes after Marcia went out: and then I heard the sound of the sea.
I felt a breeze on my face. I felt as if I was buried in the sand.
I heard someone's voice. But my eyes wouldn't open then. Then there
was a blank bit. I swam upwards then, and into waves of pain. I was
rolled onto my side curling into a cramping knife of sensation that
cut my guts and made it impossible to speak. I was conscious then
for a while.... Joe was there trying to get me to drink something.
But I could not do it. He gave me the shot instead. George's brew
was the warm fuzzy dip down into a tide of soft pain-free darkness.
That lasted quite a while.... Then I came back into a harsh light;
my eyes flickered open, my mouth felt dry; I felt I was being
lifted. Then a silence; then heat followed by cold. I'm shivering.
There is someone wrapping their arms round me. I feel a blanket
brush against my face. I open my eyes. Davey is there looking down
at me. He has his Ice suit on; 'We'll find it. We'll be back as
soon as we can. I promise to come back with it!'.... Then there is
silence for a long time. Then voices; I am struggling to draw a
breath. And the pain is coming back. I blink. I am on a stretcher
to one side of the main dome. Marcia is still next to me. Joe sits
on the floor listening to my heart. He shakes his head. I cannot
breathe again suddenly. I am gasping like a goldfish on a tea tray.
Joe and Marcia flip me over onto my back.... I’m suddenly
panicking. I gulp air in shallow gasps. Panting; but not drawing in
anything like enough.

'Joe! Please!'
Marcia's voice. And then nothing.... until I see a sepia dimness.
Night time illumination. Joe is in a chair reading some journal
entries. He has reading glasses on. He looks at me; then
immediately calls Marcia. She's there. She has changed her
tee-shirt, I can see that; and her hair is pulled back in a
stretchy red band. She does it when she is baking.

'They must
bring it to us by five. Six at the latest.' Joe's voice.

'Yes,' says
Marcia, 'I was on the radio. They'll call in twenty minutes. With
results. And she has got one. They found the equipment store
too.'

'Eve?' I speak;
but was a faded sound! Like old parchment that records the raw warm
flow of life but cannot express its reality of sensation.

She bends
towards me and starts crying. Joe checks everything again.
'Marcia.... Not long now. If he can make it to dawn, we stand a
chance.'

'Why dawn?' she
asks him with a slightly hysterical edge; and then calms down
again.

'Who can say?
It just tends to be true that's all. Keep him warm Em.'

A little while
later, I am back in the pod. I don't remember being taken there.
Marcia is wiping my face with a warm damp cloth. I feel
different.... empty. My clothes are changed. I am wearing the dark
blue tee and a button up shirt over that .... there are soft
blankets wrapped around the rest of me.

'Whatcha
doing?' I joke weakly. Marcia lays down next to me and slides under
the blankets. Her warmth is comforting. She presses her bare legs
and belly against mine.

'Why not take
off the top, as well?' I can hear myself behaving like a typical
oik; given half a chance. She slides her arms around me. I feel
that shivering subside.

'Body heat; you
need a constant supply at the right temperature. I'm wearing
knickers Jared.'

'Please don't
go....'

'I won't; I
promise.... I'll stay as long as you need.'

I shuddered
once then; something is changing, somehow becoming glassier. It is
as if I'm separating out like cake mix that hasn't been stirred
enough.

'Marcia!' I
breathe in suddenly, opening my eyes at the same time. Something is
approaching. I can feel it.

'No!' she says
sharply, 'Don't you dare!'

We are staring
at each other face to face. I want to tell her how much I Love her.
I want to beg her forgiveness for everything that I ever did that
was wrong; or might be. But I know that if she tells me all is
well.... Then I will let go. The saddest part of it is that I never
made love to her. Never showed her my raw openness at its most
foolish.... She would know what kind of Man I am. How childlike,
how lost. I was still looking for kindness in others when there was
none to be found. Girls who took my innocence, and taught me the
grammar of desire. But I never learned the Art.... My imperfect
cack-handed attempts to make things work with Marcia would have
failed if she had been anything less than what she is. She is....
She is.... Truly the only good woman who has ever existed outside
of my family.

'Jared?' she
nudges me. I was drifting. I see her face again. I know that she is
the one I would want to wake to in the morning. She is the woman I
can laugh with, and Love, and sit in the sun with. She is the one I
would draw. I would cherish her image because it was of her. But
cherish her most of all. I remember the swirling skirt as she
danced. I want to dance with her....to move in harmony. To take her
to dinner, and give her roses; and give her the ring that she
wants. And work and do everything to please her; anyway I can. I
would devote myself to her.... If I could have a second chance! No
more crazy dreams....

'Marcia!' I
stare again and everything seems monochromatic. It is the greyness
of predawn light.

She moves to
reach for the small lamp.

'Wait….'

'Alright Jay.'
she clasps me again. One tiny briny drop crawls out from my lashes
and trickles down. We kiss. And I stroke her cheek, making that
effort to move my hand with a slow gentle movement.

'What is the
time?' I can only whisper now.

'Just six.' Her
voice lifts a little as if she wasn’t aware that it was that time
already.

'Will you dress
me? I want to see it. The sunrise...please?' the words tumble out
with a breath, that is nothing more than a slight sigh of sound. I
cannot move. Everything is draining out. The copy mistook the dose.
I was already suffering from the effects of the concoction. What
was it? It was cruel of them to use Janey's knowledge. Janey would
know.... Vaguely I wonder how long it will be before Davey gets
back.

Marcia is
crying now. Her habitual self-control is breaking. She wipes her
eyes with her hanky then begins to do what I ask.

‘Marcia!’ Joe
calls to her; then puts his head through the doorway, ‘it’s melted!
The readings are climbing again.’ He sees Marcia sliding my right
foot into its boot. ‘What are you doing?’ he pulls her out of the
space; ‘you can’t do that….it really will kill him!’

‘No! no. he
wants to see the sunrise Joe.’ I hear her sob once, and Joe is
talking quietly and reassuringly, and then says: ‘Call me when
you’re ready.’

Joe carries me
out. This limp rag doll of a body. I feel lighter than meringues,
and whipped cream. I catch myself thinking; why am I thinking about
things to eat. It is Marcia of course. She makes me think of all
the things I liked when I was little. She bakes them and makes
them, and has a restaurant full of fabulous puddings and cakes; and
other lovely stuff. I love it that she is so good at making those
things. Happy things; children with messy faces…. I’m losing my
grip on the world now.

Joe has set me
in the camping chair with a foot rest. I can see the light
beginning to glimmer at the edge of the word. Marcia sits next to
me and takes my hand. I can see her. And I can see the sunrise
edging up above the horizon. In the dipped waves; then shimmering
with rich gold he shoots his beams of light. Then the grey world
turns to gold. And I have seen the dawn…. Really seen it; here in
this strange land with my beloved by my side. I realise how warm it
is again. As if that winter weather was some sort of incantation to
stop us…. or to herd us down into danger.

‘Tell Davey….
thank you.’ I said; then, and after a few moments, ‘Tell Janey….
you are the best of us. And the bravest. And it’s okay now….
and…’

‘Please Jared….
don’t! there is still time. There are still some hours. The window
of opportunity! They will be here.’ Then to Joe: ‘get on the radio!
Ask then what is happening!’

‘Yes, of
course.’ Joe said evenly, and went back inside the dome.

Time slides by;
and I watch the changing light from this vantage point, and wonder
why I didn’t notice it’s beauty before. Milk white clouds formed
and danced. Marcia sets a sunshade above us, and brings a drink to
me. It only a short while since Joe set me here. But each moment
seems so long. Joe glances at his watch and shakes his head at
Marcia. She looks down, some inner argument working through. Then
she looks up and smiles again. She holds the cup to my lips. It is
something I have not tasted before. Cool and sweet. I don’t
question. I just do what she wants; keep sipping as much as I
can.

‘The tide is
moving.’ said Joe, ‘they say they are crossing the channel in half
an hour.’

Marcia looks at
her watch, ‘After they cross; It will take them two hours to get
here…. We can do this.’

Joe crouches
down by me, ‘Now then Chief. How are you doing? Does it hurt
again?’

‘No….no pain.
Not bad yet….’

‘That’s good.’
Marcia seems relieved.

‘You are such a
bad liar.’ Joe said to me, ‘I will get the med case now.’

I am alone for
a moment. Marcia has taken one of those two minute breaks that is
necessary when you are drinking gallons of tea and waiting for
something you dread to not happen…. Or then again; it might.
Either, Or; heads or tails; Fish or chicken?

Then I’m
coughing. I feel that night black curling snake of pain in my mind
slowly unfolding piece by piece. It must be the time. Now; when I
am alone.

‘Father!’ I’m
thinking of Leo….; he told me the choice I had to make. So, I want
to send it on its way. To make this eviction permanent. I want to
be free. If it is the last thing I do…. I try to laugh then; it is
the last thing I will do!

Then I reach
inside. There it is a kind of golden shape. It is the time flux
that every traveller has embedded into the central part of their
mind. I am surprized, yet not, at how flexible it is. I plunge in
and imagine drawing out a few golden strands. Not everyone has a
visual image. For some it is a sound; perhaps a piece of music or a
taste of different ingredients that they somehow mix together. For
me it is always colours and light. When I was a child, I was told
this meant that my travelling potential must be first level; but
since I failed the test…. sort of, I was never assessed. My mother
put her foot down, and refused to let me be put through the test
again…. which I was relieved about. But it meant I could be not
just first level…. I could be the one my mother really believed I
was already. I thought of Karis…. Big Sister. So effortless…. So
incredibly smooth and without strain. So I got a little lost? I
could have corrected it. If I hadn’t landed in the early part of
the twentieth century in a field of war. Soldiers and Angels
fighting on two different levels. I could see them…. I could see
them all.

Here I am; the
day is warm. I slowly and painfully stand up. The breezes slow….and
then stop. The silence is warm. And for the first time; I am ready,
actually ready to fly. Metaphorically…. or perhaps for real. I
slowly unclip my jacket. It slides off one shoulder, then the
other; and as if it is made of the lightest silk, floats gently to
the ground. I walk forward, very slowly to the edge of the slope.
The sea is like complex sculpture; the waves stilled into curves
and swirls and crystals through which the sun gleams on the pebbles
beneath. Fish curl in patterns like toys set in resin….