Maggie gasped. “Honey! What happened?”
Water droplets fell from the ends of my saturated hair and trailed over my shoulders, between my shoulder blades, and down my back.
“I remembered something,” I said, hollow, wishing to God I could forget again.
Her face mirrored the terror I felt. “What did you remember?”
“A name,” I told her. My chin wobbled. “My name.”
The water was choppy tonight. The waves slapped around, bullying one other and violently crashing against the pebbled shore. The wind matched the water’s fierceness, ripping at my hair and clothes, as if warning me to go inside.
I couldn’t go inside. Not now, maybe not at all tonight. I felt a bone-deep loss.
Though this loss was similar, it was eerily distinctive, but the difference wasn’t one I could put my finger on.
I wished things were different. I wished the past didn’t shape our futures. I wished I’d swallowed all my fears and just told Amnesia everything. I made my choice, though. I chose her, even though from the outside looking in, it appeared I’d chosen myself.
I chose to protect her, which cost me everything.
At least the regret I would live with now would be regret of my own making.
The wind blew again, cutting into me fiercely. Autumn had definitely taken hold here. Summer was just a distant memory now.
The grass was long. I needed to mow it, but I didn’t see the point. Long blades whipped around, battering against my legs and shoes, as if berating me for being such a crappy landscaper.
Staring out across the churning water, my gaze homed in on Rumor Island. It seemed farther away right now in the fading light of day. It didn’t matter the hour; it always seemed slightly ominous, the house up high as if it rose up out of the water and perched there on its throne.
Memories from long ago swirled in my brain, the wind whistling in my ears.
“Eddie!” I thought I heard my name, carried near by the wind. I ignored it, sure it was just more memories haunting me.
But then they called out again.
I twisted around, nearly stumbling while jumping to my feet. Amnesia was running across the yard, the back door of the house flapping in the wind, not latched from where she’d burst through.
“Am!” I yelled and started running.
She came back.
Amnesia tripped and fell, her knees taking the brunt of her tumble. I called out again, surging forward, but she pushed up and kept rushing forward as if she hadn’t fallen at all.
When she was close enough, I snatched her out of the wind and pulled her against me. She went lax for only a second before stiffening and pulling away.
“Am, I’m so sorry. I—”
“I remembered something, Eddie,” she rushed out over what I was trying to say.
I blinked, her words registering. “You remembered?” I whispered, my stomach free-falling toward my knees.
“It was…” She instantly choked up, her face falling.
Taking a chance, I reached out and tipped her chin up so I could look into her face. She didn’t pull away, but I saw she wasn’t totally present. Amnesia was lost in whatever memory filled her mind.
“It was horrible,” she confided, tears filling her eyes and instantly spilling over. “Maggie wanted me to tell her. She tried to make me stay and talk…” Her breath hitched.
I resisted the urge to pull her into my arms.
Wide, brown eyes met mine. “I wanted you.”
“I’m here,” I said, giving in and wrapping my arms around her shoulders. Her face burrowed into my shirt, and her shoulders shook. “I’m here.”
I didn’t say anything more, just turned our bodies so my back was blocking the wind coming off the water, shielding her from the worst of it.
After long moments, she pushed off my chest, wiped her face, and looked up. Her hair was damp.
I frowned. “Let’s go inside. It’s cold.”
She shook her head adamantly. “No. I want to be outside. It’s less claustrophobic.”
“Am, what did you remember?” I asked, afraid to even know.
“I remembered my name, Eddie.”
Like an eagle zeroing in on prey, I felt my gaze sharpen. “What?”
“I told Maggie,” she explained. “And she started sobbing.”
Without thinking, I snatched her by the shoulders, shaking her a little. “What’s your name, Am?”
“Sadie,” she whispered. “It was Sadie.”
My hands fell away. I stumbled backward. “No.” I shook my head. “No, it can’t be.”
“Yes,” Amnesia came forward as if stalking me. “I remember.” She shuddered. “It was horrible.”
I knew it. Hadn’t I known it? Everyone said I was crazy, that it was just wishful thinking. Hell, even I had come to terms with it.
But how else could this be explained? It fit. She fit.
“Sadie,” I murmured, my eyes raking over her anew. Emotion so thick welled up inside me it stole my breath. “Holy fuck.”
“You look just like Maggie did,” Am said suspiciously. “Like you’ve seen a ghost.”
The wind pulled at my clothes, tugged at my hair. I didn’t feel it because the weather around me was nothing compared to the tornado inside me.
“Amnesia…” I reached for her.
She pulled back. It damn near killed me.
“You know who I am, don’t you? You all know.”
I swallowed thickly, still trying to make sense of it all.
“Don’t you?” she screamed. A strand of wet hair slapped against her cheek.
“Yes,” I rasped, feeling incredibly ashamed and suddenly very drained. “Yes, Sadie… I know her… you.”
“You lied to me all these weeks,” she accused.
I shook my head. “It wasn’t like that… I swear.”
If she walked away again, I’d chase her. I’d make her understand.
She didn’t walk away this time. Instead, she stood amongst the wind, darkening sky, and tempestuous water, looking like a warrior intent on battle. “Start talking,” she demanded.
And so I did.
Eleven Years Ago…
Truth or Dare.
Real men picked dare. Truth was for pussies. It also got me here, sneaking out of my house at two o’clock in the morning.
Creeping around my room like I was a ninja trying to catch a picture of Santa on Christmas Eve, I dressed in the first clothes my hands touched. Once I was done, I stood at my bedroom door for a moment, ear pressed against the wood, making sure no one heard me sneaking around.
I was clear.
Dad snored so loud Mom probably had hearing damage.
On my way to the window, I snatched a baseball cap off my dresser and pulled it over my hair, stuffing it all beneath. The hat was tighter than usual. Maybe Mom was right; maybe I should just get a haircut.
Summer wasn’t meant for haircuts. No one cared what you looked like when school was out, and most days were spent at the lake or at Pat’s ice cream stand.
Forgetting about my hair, I unlocked the window and pushed it up. I’d already loosened the screen from the outside earlier so all I had to do was give it a nudge, quietly pull it through the window, and prop it against the wall.