Wyatt and Ms. Abagail climbed the curb together, Wyatt leading them away from the front door and toward the glass window. A few shoppers milled about, but Wyatt didn't bother altering his course. It tickled as he walked through them, but it was of little interest.
Wyatt stepped into the shadow created by the building and at once could see through the polished glass. He stopped breathing.
"Huh," Ms. Abagail said. "You know, those kind of look like—"
"Bearsy," Wyatt finished for her, eyes locked on the elaborate display of identical stuffed bears, save for the different colored bows they had around their necks. And though they were no more remarkable than any other stuffed bear in the world, Wyatt knew that they were all copies of his sister's treasured toy.
And if there was any doubt, the small girl rifling through the pile made it utterly certain.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
"OH MY GOD," Ms. Abagail said. "It's Lucy."
Wyatt was already running for the door. The strange feeling that had driven him to the store in the first place intensified. He no more understood it than before, but the desperation was palpable.
There was little that would stop his charge, but one of those things stood in the doorway, barring entrance to what Wyatt needed to reach. He stumbled to a stop, nearly colliding with the spectral figure of vitriol and bad memories.
The Bad Man smiled in its usual manner and leaned toward Wyatt, forcing him to back up. Ms. Abagail slammed into his back and nearly took them both to the ground, but she grabbed him, and together, they backed away from the storefront.
"I have to get in there," Wyatt said.
The Bad Man let out a laugh that was almost a cough and stepped forward. A young couple exited M and G Toys, walking through the Bad Man as they made their way down the sidewalk. The spectral creature dissipated with a hiss, but quickly reformed.
"And yet you're backing away," the Bad Man said. "Running away like a coward."
"I am not a coward!" Wyatt yelled. Without thinking, he charged forward, set on going through the Bad Man if it wouldn't move.
"Coward!" the Bad Man bellowed, swiping a hand at Wyatt.
The thing's spectral claw struck Wyatt in the side and he felt the ground vanish from beneath his feet as he was sent rolling along the concrete. When he stopped, Ms. Abagail was kneeling at his side, a hand on his back.
"How dare you?" she shouted.
Wyatt climbed to his knees, but remained in the spot he'd fallen. The pain was there, racing along his bones, but it meant little.
"How dare I?" the Bad Man scoffed. He pointed a long finger at them. "How dare you? Entering a place neither of you belong in. Go on, scurry back the way you came."
Ms. Abagail stood, pinned in the sunlight, the pink in her hair shining like a beacon. "No," she said flatly.
"No?" the Bad Man said with a snarl. "You have—"
"No," Ms. Abagail interrupted, taking a step toward the creature.
Wyatt reached out for her, but only grazed her pant leg.
"You're the one that shouldn't be here. You don't scare us. And you damn sure don't control what we do. Or what we remember," Ms. Abagail said.
The Bad Man wore no expression in the misty black of its face, and it didn't respond to the brief tirade. Wyatt took the moment to stand at Ms. Abagail's side, borrowing from her steely confidence.
"You don't want us going in there," he said.
"And you will not!" the Bad Man shouted, seeming to have regained its composure.
"Why don't you want us to go in there?" Ms. Abagail asked, pointing at the store.
Again, the Bad Man fell silent.
Something clicked in Wyatt's mind. "You don't want us to remember. Any of us."
The Bad Man laughed, but even for a creature of shade and mystery, it sounded forced. "I welcome you to remember. Shall I show you a bit of your haunted past?"
The Bad Man took a step forward, but a sharp laugh from Ms. Abagail halted it. "Like what you did with my mom?"
The Bad Man tilted its head toward Ms. Abagail and let out a low hiss.
"That wasn't a memory," Ms. Abagail continued. "Yeah, my mom was a mean bitch, but she wasn't a monster. Not like you made her seem. You twisted my memory, or whatever it was, because you didn't want me to stand up to her. You wanted me to stay scared. But it didn't matter. I knew what you were showing me was bullshit, and I did what I should have done long ago."
"You know nothing!" the Bad Man shrieked. "That was only a taste of what I can show you, filthy bitch."
Ms. Abagail cocked a fist, but Wyatt snared it before she could launch a physical assault on the creature. "I remember what you showed me back at Greenwood. That wasn't real either," he said.
The Bad Man twitched and glided toward Wyatt, stopping just a hairbreadth from his nose. Wyatt could feel its cold breath on his face. But he remained firm, taking further strength from Ms. Abagail, who stood tall at his side. He didn't understand what the Bad Man was, not fully, but Wyatt was beginning to make sense of what it wanted. And didn't want.
"She's right," Wyatt said. "You don't want us to remember what really happened. You showed me a nightmare, not a memory. You turned my mom into a monster, too, and made me think it was my fault."
"It was your fault," the Bad Man said, sounding as if it were speaking through clenched teeth.
Wyatt shook his head. "You're nothing but lies. Your only power is to twist what really happened to us. To scare us and keep us from remembering. You want our pasts to stay forgotten or twisted."
"I want you to see yourself as the selfish little bastard you are," the Bad Man said.
"You're a liar," Wyatt said as calmly as he could. "We're going into that toy store."
The Bad Man laughed, rearing back, bellowing at the sky. When its head turned back to Wyatt, it said, "You will go as I allow and see only as I wish. You need to know what you did."
"Then let us go," Ms. Abagail said.
The Bad Man turned on her, and for a moment, looked ready to pounce, but Wyatt stayed any attempt by saying, "It can't stop us."
The Bad Man swiveled back toward Wyatt, but he didn't allow the specter a chance to respond. "I don't think you actually have any control here. You could only twist what you showed me yourself. Even in Ms. Abagail's memory, you only managed to change her mom for a bit, and it was obvious you were there. This isn't your world."
"And you think it's yours?" the Bad Man hissed.
"Nope," Wyatt said. "But it's part of remembering. And maybe that used to scare me. But not anymore." Wyatt reached for Ms. Abagail and found her hand. She squeezed it firmly. "Now, Bad Man, if you'll excuse us."
Wyatt walked straight at the seething creature and willed their safe passage. Part of him expected a violent response, but instinct told him that he had been right in claiming the creature had no real power. Not if Wyatt truly wanted to move forward.
Hand in hand, Wyatt and Ms. Abagail walked through the Bad Man, splitting it in two. The thing howled, gnashed invisible teeth, and snarled behind them. Wyatt didn't bother looking back.
"You're a fool if you think this changes anything," the Bad Man shouted after them. "You'll see, Wyatt the Mighty...I was protecting you."
Wyatt kept walking, focusing on each footstep. Only a few more feet until they reached the door.
"Even if you find what was hidden, it will change nothing! Nothing! You're not enough. Not nearly enough!"
Wyatt's steps faltered as the Bad Man began laughing in earnest, drowning out all other sounds, but Ms. Abagail tugged on his arm and forced his mind to center. Whatever that thing is, Wyatt thought. It's all lies. And I'm not scared. I'm not scared...
Once inside the toy store, Wyatt stole a look back through the glass door. The Bad Man was gone.
"That felt good," Ms. Abagail said. "Didn't it?"
"I guess," Wyatt said, still scanning the sidewalk for signs of the apparition. In truth, he wasn't sure how he felt. Standing up to the creature had felt
good, but he wasn't sure it solved anything. However, it had shown that the Bad Man was not nearly as powerful as Wyatt had feared.
"That thing is just trying to stop you from remembering whatever it is you need to remember. And it seemed pretty pissed off, so I'd say we're on the right track," Ms. Abagail said.
"You're right," Wyatt said, though he still didn't feel any better about it.
"So you think this is Lucy's memory-dream? Or dream-memory. Or whatever."
Wyatt turned to survey the interior of the store for the first time. The encounter with the Bad Man had momentarily stolen his focus, and he had forgotten the sight of his sister.
"She was over by the bears," Wyatt said, leading the way to the window display he had seen from the street.
The store was cluttered with endless aisles and displays of toys, but Wyatt saw few shoppers. Not that it would have mattered; he and Ms. Abagail were specters in their own right.
Wyatt rounded a cage of rubber balls and stopped. Lucy—a younger version of her—was still standing at the window display, pawing through the stuffed bears. Ms. Abagail bumped into Wyatt at his sudden stop.
"We sure that's even her?" Ms. Abagail asked.
Wyatt nodded and slowly stepped forward, eyes locked on the small girl's dirty-blonde curls. She was holding up two bears, one with a red bowtie, and the other with one of blue. After a moment, she tossed them back into the pile and withdrew one with a pink and purple polka-dotted tie.
Wyatt drew close enough that he could have reached out and touched her. He didn't know what he expected to see or learn from the moment, but it felt important.
"So, this is where her bear came from, huh?" Ms. Abagail said, having circled to the other side of Lucy. "Ha, I still remember her dropping it out the window your first day at—"
"Shhh. I'm trying to think," Lucy said suddenly. She set aside the bear she had been holding and looked for another.
Wyatt and Ms. Abagail locked eyes. "Is she talking to me?" Ms. Abagail asked.
Wyatt looked around, thinking to see someone else nearby, but didn't. He looked back at Lucy, leaned close, and whispered, "Can you hear me?"
Lucy's head turned on a swivel. A frown crowded her sparkling eyes. "Yes, I'm talking to you. Now hush, I have to find the perfect bear."
"Well..." Ms. Abagail mused.
"How can you hear us? No one else can," Wyatt asserted.
Lucy set down another bear and faced Wyatt directly, folding her arms as she did. "Why are you even here?"
"I...uh...we're not even sure where we are. Are you really Lucy?"
Lucy rolled her eyes. "This is my special dream. You shouldn't be here. You'll ruin it." She spun back to the stuffed bears, drew out one with a green tie, and held it up. "What do you think of this one?"
"Uh, it's nice, I guess," Wyatt said. "But are you the Lucy we left in the, uh, hole?"
"Hole?" she said, dropping the green-tied bear and leaning forward to grab another. "I don't know. Maybe. I come here when things hurt. It's my favorite dream."
"You mean memory," Wyatt said.
Lucy shrugged. "I like it here. I can look at bears forever."
"We need to get you back," Wyatt said. "Back to...well, the Realms, I guess. Out of this memory, anyway."
"I'm not leaving."
Wyatt looked up at Ms. Abagail pleadingly. She held up her hands as if to say, what do you want me to do?
"But you can't just stay here," Wyatt said. "We have to go back. We have to protect Sanctuary, find Athena, and—"
"No thanks," Lucy said sharply. She lifted up a bear with a simple black tie. "Oh yes, this is the perfect bear." She spun on the tips of her toes, bear pulled tightly to her chest, a grin plastered on her face.
Something crashed to the floor somewhere in the store. Wyatt heard someone yelling, but couldn't make sense of the words. He looked at Lucy and saw her eyes grow wide.
"Lucy?" he asked.
Lucy didn't reply. Instead, she took off running down an aisle, bear clutched to her chest. Wyatt watched her go, stupefied.
"This is weird," he said. "Even for me."
Something else crashed toward the back of the store, followed by louder yelling.
"I'd ask what that was, but I don't suppose you have an answer," Ms. Abagail said.
"Doesn't matter. We need to keep track of Lucy. If this is just some dream, then she can get us all back to where we belong."
Wyatt ran after Lucy, trusting Ms. Abagail to follow.
He found Lucy near the front counter, leaning against the leg of a young man and clutching the hand of a young woman.
Wyatt missed a stepped and fell to his knees. He recognized the woman at once, having seen her face on multiple occasions, most often surrounded by a body of twisting shadows. The man he had never seen, but Wyatt knew him immediately.
"Oh my God," Ms. Abagail said.
"That's my dad," Wyatt said, hardly freeing the words.
"And that's me," Ms. Abagail said.
Only then did Wyatt see the teenager moving from behind the checkout counter. Her hair was trussed up in a high ponytail, dyed bright purple, but her face was unmistakable. The young Ms. Abagail was waving her hands over her head, looking down a side aisle of action figures. She was shouting something, but the words sounded fuzzy in Wyatt's ears.
He glanced back at his parents. His father was staring off in the same direction young Ms. Abagail was moving. Lucy continued to cower behind his leg. Wyatt's mother crouched at Lucy's side and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.
Someone screamed from the aisle that held all their attention. It sounded like a girl, but beyond that, Wyatt couldn't be certain.
"Oh my God, I remember this. Oh my God. This...oh my God," Ms. Abagail said. She was quickly beginning to hyperventilate.
Wyatt found his footing and faced Ms. Abagail. Her eyes were wide and her fingers were at her mouth, trembling.
"What's going on?" Wyatt demanded.
The lights overhead flickered for a moment, nearly causing Wyatt to fall. He was dizzy.
"Oh my God," Ms. Abagail said again, eyes locked on the younger version of herself, standing at the end of an aisle, still shouting down it.
"Ms. Abagail!" Wyatt yelled.
"It can't be..." she said slowly. "We were all there that day..."
Wyatt meant to press her further, but a young woman shrieked behind him, and turning, Wyatt saw the young Ms. Abagail thrown to the ground as a towering man charged past her. A large hood covered his face, making him look more monster than man, but even more arresting was the small girl he was chasing.
Sprinting across the store was a girl with a tight crop of dark hair that Wyatt knew would one day be dyed bright red. Her face was streaked with tears, and she ran as if it meant her life.
"Athena!" Wyatt yelled, moving to intercept the girl.
She bolted past him before he could entertain the idea of grabbing for her. The lumbering man came hot on her heels, knocking aside Wyatt's parents and sister. They fell against the counter, Lucy immediately breaking into loud sobs. Young Ms. Abagail shouted from the spot she had fallen, but didn't get up.
Knowing he could do nothing, Wyatt stood stock-still, watching as Athena raced for the door, and he found himself urging her to reach it before the man did. Something wicked ran off the figure, washing over Wyatt like a frigid wave. He knew him to be the same shadowy figure that had stolen Athena away the first time he and Lucy had ventured into a memory together.
Athena was fast, and though the man was large, his steps were slow and clumsy. She reached the entrance first and Wyatt almost let out a cheer. But then the door opened suddenly, swinging inward and taking Athena off her feet as it slammed into her face and chest.
A young boy with thick-rimmed glasses stepped into the store, looked down at Athena, then up at the towering man, and stood rooted, just as Wyatt was.
It's me, Wyatt realized.
The man reached down mid-stride, grabbed Ath
ena by the arm and dragged her out of the store before Wyatt could make sense of the sight of his younger self. Young Wyatt stumbled out of the way, but quickly continued into the store as if nothing had happened.
"Can we go yet?" he asked.
Wyatt watched as his younger image walked toward his parents, comic book hanging from his hand, face wrought with impatience. Ignoring the question, Wyatt's father moved toward young Ms. Abagail and helped her from the floor.
His mother pulled a phone from her pocket. "I'm calling the police," she said, looking toward her husband, free hand still tied to Lucy's. "She all right?"
"I'm fine," young Ms. Abagail said, voice now clear.
Wyatt fell against Ms. Abagail and looked to her for some sort of explanation. Or reassurance. Anything.
"I remember this," she was whispering to herself. "But I didn't know...oh my God, we were all there." She clasped a hand over her mouth. She was crying.
Wyatt spun back to the memory. Young Wyatt was crossing his arms, repeatedly asking his mother if they could leave. Lucy continued to cry, and Wyatt's mother was talking into her phone.
"What a selfish..." Wyatt began to say, eyeing his own image with bitter indignation. How could I be so blind?
"Did you see which way they went?" Wyatt's mother asked.
It was enough to shake Wyatt from his stupor. He spun to Ms. Abagail. "I have to go after Athena. I have to find her."
Ms. Abagail was still watching the scene in stunned horror and revelation.
Wyatt didn't wait for any response, instead moving for the door with every bit of speed he could muster, fueled by a sick desperation to atone for past sins.
It's all my fault.
Wyatt slammed into the glass door of M and G Toys and was thrown back when it didn't open. He stumbled, gathered himself, and tried again in vain to open the portal, this time pulling.
"Athena!" he yelled, his breath fogging the glass.
Wyatt could see the mountain of a man dragging Athena by the hair into the parking lot. He yelled again and beat at the door. He grabbed the handle and shook it with every bit of force he could muster.
The Remembered Page 11
