A Traitor to Memory

Finally Sarah-Jane leaves the door where she has stood motionless, waiting and listening. She walks to the tape player, where the violin in the Beethoven trio is executing a passage of doublestops. She punches a button and the music blessedly ceases, leaving behind a silence so hollow that I wish only for the music again.

Into this silence comes the sound of sirens. They grow louder and louder as the vehicles approach. Although it's probably taken them minutes, it seems like an hour since Dad yanked on my hair and forced me to release the grip I had on my sister.

“Up here, in here,” Dad shouts down the stairs as someone lets the paramedics into the house.

And then begins the effort to save what cannot be saved, what I know cannot be saved, because I was the one who destroyed her.

I can't bear the images, the thoughts, the sounds.

I ran blindly, wildly, without caring where I was going. I crossed the street and came to my senses directly in front of the Pembroke Castle pub. And beyond it I saw the terrace where the drinkers sit in summer, the terrace that was empty now, but bordered by a wall, a low brick wall onto which I leapt, along which I ran, and from which I sprang, sprang without thinking onto the iron archway of the pedestrian footbridge that spans the railway line thirty feet beneath it. I sprang thinking, This is how it will be.

I heard the train before I saw it. In the hearing, I took my answer. The train wasn't traveling fast, so the engineer would well be able to stop it and I would not die … unless I timed my jump with precision.

I moved to the edge of the arch. I saw the train. I watched its approach.

“Gideon!”





Dad was at the end of the footbridge. “Stay where you are!” he shouted.

“It's too late.”





And like a baby, I began to cry, and I waited for the moment, the perfect moment, when I could drop onto the tracks in front of the train and enter oblivion.

“What are you saying?” he shouted. “Too late for what?”





“I know what I did,” I cried. “To Sonia. I remember.”





“You remember what?” He looked from me to the train, both of us watching its steady approach. He took a single step closer to me.

“You know. What I did. That night. To Sonia. How she died. You know what I did to Sonia.”





“No! Wait!” This as I moved my feet so that the soles of my shoes overhung the drop. “Don't do this, Gideon. Tell me what you think happened.”





“I drowned her, Dad! I drowned my sister!”





He took another step towards me, his hand extended.

The train drew closer. Twenty seconds and it would be over. Twenty seconds and a debt would be paid.

“Stay where you are! For the love of God, Gideon!”





“I drowned her!” I cried, and my breath caught on a sob. “I drowned her and I didn't even remember. Do you know what that means? Do you know how it feels?”





His glance went to the train, then back to me. He took another step forward. “Don't!” he shouted. “Listen to me. You didn't kill your sister.”





“You pulled me off her. I remember now. And that's why Mother left. She left us without a word because she knew what I'd done. Isn't that right? Isn't that the truth?”





“No! No, it's not!”





“It is. I remember.”





“Listen to me. Wait.” His words were rapid. “You hurt her, yes. And yes, yes, she was unconscious. But, Gideon, son, hear what I'm saying. You didn't drown Sonia.”





“Then who—”





“I did.”





“I don't believe you.” I looked beneath me to the waiting rail tracks. A single step was all I needed to take, and I would be on the tracks and a moment later it would all be over. A burst of pain then a wiping of the slate.

“Look at me, Gideon. For God's sake, hear me out. Don't do this before you understand what happened.”





“You're trying to stall.”





“If I am, there'll be another train, won't there? So listen to me. You owe it to yourself.”





No one had been present, he told me. Raphael had taken Katja to the kitchen. My mother had gone to ring the emergency number. Gran had gone to Granddad to settle him down. Sarah-Jane had taken me to my room. And James the Lodger had disappeared back upstairs.

“I could have taken her from the bath just then,” he said. “I could have given her the kiss of life. I could have used CPR on her. But I held her there, Gideon. I held her down beneath the water until I heard your mother finish her call to emergency.”





“That wouldn't have done it. There wouldn't have been enough time.”





“There was. Your mother stayed on the phone with emergency till we heard the paramedics pounding on the front door. She relayed emergency's instructions to me. I pretended to do what they directed. But she couldn't see me, Gideon, so she didn't know that I hadn't taken Sonia out of the bath.”