Hide 1: Untethered

by Jax Spenser

  ***

  I wake. I was sleeping again? I don’t think I’ve ever slept this much unless that part of my memory’s being erased too. Not only did I sleep again but I did it with the stranger in the car. We could have been chopped into little pieces! I hold back a laugh at the thought but it sets off a chain reaction of pain. I’m feeling worse today than I was yesterday when Mother Doom came at me. Have to keep reminding myself she can’t get me anymore.

  Dad’s rambling on about all-things cars but I don’t think the stranger’s really paying attention. He keeps staring out his side window. Good, as long as he’s not staring at me.

  The Memory Book pokes out of the backpack and it occurs to me, with everything that’s happened, I should probably start writing down the details of our exit while I can still remember.

  The sound of the car and the wind whipping outside starts to blend into the background, and I soon lose track of Dad’s attempts to get John … what was his name again? Bruce. Trying to get John Bruce to talk. I open the book and look back at the other entries.

  July 13th

  Mom told me I wasn’t going to have a birthday this year. She said we’d all be better off if the day just disappeared. Why does she hate me so much?

  I flip back several pages, two years before Mom and Dad separated:

  December 18th

  Dad and Mom had a major fight … because of me. I went shopping with Mom at the mall today and I passed out in the dressing room. She got so angry she left me there and went home. She sent Dad to pick me up. The paramedics had me on a gurney when Dad walked in the store. He told them about my condition and they said they had to call the cops because Mom left me there. But he saved her. Can you believe it? He covered what she did. He gave her an excuse, said she thought I made plans to hang out with my friends. What he didn’t tell them is that she’s supposed to be watching me because of the blackouts. It makes me feel completely helpless. So why does he always look out for her and not me?

  Then I go back to the very first entry. Before everything changed. Back when Mom was a real mom. It’s from my 5th birthday.

  The handwriting’s different. Mom’s handwriting:

  July 21st

  Keegan got his brand new bike from his daddy yesterday. Billy pushed him off for the first time so the big boy could pedal on his own. But instead of pedaling he fell and hit the ground hard. It was awful. The poor baby received five stitches on his chin. We found out later from a doctor that he blacked out while he was on his bike. So they kept Keegan overnight and ran several tests.

  Today, the doctor said the blackout must have been a hidden disorder. Dormant. It would have happened sooner or later. I told the doctor she must be wrong, because Keegan is a perfect little boy. She didn’t understand what I meant. No one ever does. She told us Keegan will sooner or later have more blackouts. And he’ll have them for the rest of his life.

  Even with a for-shit memory, I remember that caring Mom—where did she go?