The Memory of Sky

by Robert Reed

  “Candy orbs are my first favorite,” she said.

  “What are candy orbs?”

  “They’re a kind of flower, and that’s them.”

  He didn’t reply.

  “Do you know about flowers, Diamond?”

  He started walking again. Questions were confusing and made him feel foolish.

  “Do you know about birds?”

  “I know usher birds,” he volunteered.

  “You’ve seen them before?”

  “Yes. Yes, I have.”

  Elata watched his feet and legs. But when he looked at her, she blinked and stared out into the air. “Last night was amazing,” she said. “I slept and slept and then I couldn’t sleep anymore. Nobody remembers a longer, darker night. That’s what my mother says.”

  Diamond remained silent, thinking about his mother.

  “Inside your house . . . did you know it was night?”

  He nodded.

  “But nobody let you look out the window?”

  He walked faster, saying nothing.

  Elata slowed, watching the odd sandals crossing the creaking slats.

  A new post was topped with rough wood, and one long golden splinter burrowed inside his thumb.

  The pain hit. Diamond stopped and flinched.

  She said, “Oh, my. I’m sorry.”

  He touched the splinter with the other thumb and forefinger. Elata swallowed before asking, “Do you want me to pull it?”

  But he already had. Putting the wound to his mouth, he sucked as he turned, walking even faster now.

  “That looked bad,” she said. “How does it feel?”

  Diamond broke into a steady run.

  She sprinted to catch him, and laughing, grabbed his elbow and tugged until he stopped running. “Where did you get those legs?”

  He had no words to offer.

  “I’ve heard about kids born without legs, or feet with no toes. I even heard about a boy with two heads. But you’re not like them.”

  Diamond dropped his gaze.

  And she became self-conscious too. “I’m sorry. That was rude.”

  Bright air beckoned. He gazed out at the birds and plunging water and what looked like the same giant leatherwing hunting for insects.

  “I talk when I should think,” Elata said, passing him and turning before pointing at herself. “Teachers tell me that all the time. But if you didn’t notice, my mother does that too. It’s a family trait. We have loud blood. An idea pops into our heads, and we can’t help ourselves.”

  The railing opened, revealing a new rope ladder that ended on a distant landing. Until then, Diamond was only a little bothered by heights. But the great tree seemed to sway under his feet, and looking at that impossible gulf, a sharp pain began to dig in his belly.

  Standing beside him, Elata tried to see everything from his point of view. “It seems far, I know. But you won’t fall.”

  “I might,” he said.

  “So I’ll go first,” she said. “If something goes wrong, I’ll grab you.”

  “You would?”

  “Or better, I’ll jump and steer you to where you want to be.”

  Where he wanted to be was home, but he nodded and followed his best new friend, slowly working his way down the long trembling ladder.

  Nobody fell and nobody jumped.

  Diamond was never at ease, but his legs and hands soon knew what they were doing. He could even imagine some remote future where he wasn’t scared. But today he was sweating and breathing hard, and standing on the new landing, he still felt the ladder’s jerky sway.

  What looked tiny from above was enormous. Jutting far out into the air, the landing was wide enough to hold a dozen chairs and giant boxes jammed with plants, plus one long rectangular basin lined with rubber and filled with water. Diamond approached the basin. Big beetles swum furiously to the far shore. The rubber was black, making the pool look deep. Beneath the surface, a long silver animal hovered on little wings, motionless until he touched the water, and then it was gone.

  Elata stood beside a huge purple curtain. “Maybe your mother’s here.”

  He didn’t believe so, but that slim hope smiled at him.

  Past the purple curtain was a short hallway ending with a massive, iron-encrusted door. An elegant silken rope hung from the ceiling. Elata gave it a hard yank, and bells began ringing indoors.

  “These people are rich,” she warned.

  He couldn’t guess what those words meant.

  “Filthy, wicked rich,” she said.

  The door was unlatched, and a woman appeared. She didn’t look dirty at all.

  “Oh, Elata.”

  Diamond recognized the voice and the woman’s eyes. This was the mother who was nice to him when he visited, using happy warm words, but she wasn’t very pleasant this morning.

  “You’re too early,” she complained. “He’s not ready for school.”

  “I don’t want Seldom. We’re hunting Diamond’s mother.”

  A first glance wasn’t enough. The woman stepped into the hallway, staring at the odd, unexpected boy. Big eyes and startled gasp came before, “Oh my. Diamond? What are you doing here?”

  “We’re looking for his mother,” Elata repeated. “We need to find her.”

  The woman nodded, finally understanding some part of this. “But Haddi isn’t here.”

  Mother’s name was Haddi.

  “Do you know where she is?” Elata asked.

  “I don’t.” The woman backed away, fascination slipping into worry. “Are you all right, leaving your room like this?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’re sure?”

  He nodded with confidence.

  But she wasn’t convinced. “Come this way, you two. Into the greeting room, and sit.” Then she put a hand on his forehead. “You feel hot.”

  “I’m all right.”

  “You’re not well. Sit down and rest.”

  The room would have been spacious, except for the chairs and hanging tables. Broad tubes brought in the daylight. Diamond sat on a chair full of pillows. Elata dropped beside him, saying, “My mom’s going to be here.” Then with an odd tone, she added, “As soon as she’s done searching his house.”

  Rima needed something useful to do. “Do you want anything, Diamond? A drink, maybe?”

  He was thirsty, yes. “Water, please.”

  “Of course. And you, Elata?”

  “Whatever Diamond wants. Thank you.”

  The woman left. But from somewhere close, she said, “No, stay with me. You don’t need to go down there.”

  A deeper voice muttered a word or two.

  Then with a louder voice, Elata said, “I mean it, Karlan. You’re not bothering them.”

  Elata sat up straight and said, “Shit.”

  Diamond didn’t know that word.

  An older boy rounded the corner, smiling at the guests. Diamond recognized him instantly and felt uneasy. Elata was worse. She clapped her hands on her knees and twisted as if hurting. “Go away,” she said. “Go.”

  The boy was taller than before. A man’s body was forming under a child’s face, and the bright dead smile grew bigger as he approached.

  “Hello, monster,” Karlan said.

  Diamond didn’t talk.

  “You healed up, did you?” The boy laughed and dropped to his knees, putting his face too close. Then he straightened a long finger, stabbing Diamond in the stomach. “Got a scar there, do you?”

  Walking into the room, Rima let out a bright sharp scream.

  Everyone but Karlan jumped. He remained calm and happy, and feeling no reason to hurry, he slowly rose to his feet, smiling as he stared at the much smaller boy.

  “Leave him alone,” said a mother’s voice. “I mean it.”

  A good deal of Rima’s life was spent throwing warnings at her oldest boy, and better than anybody else, she knew how to fend off trouble. But she also understood that she couldn’t push too hard or throw down mandate
s that couldn’t be defended. Her big cheerless smile was important. Resting a hand against her son’s back, she said, “It’s nearly school time. Think of all the fun you can have somewhere else.”

  Karlan winked. “See you around, monster.”

  He left the room.

  Rima handed two tall cups to her guests before sitting on the nearest chair. She didn’t want to talk about past troubles, but every time she looked at Diamond, her resolve broke down a little more.

  Elata sipped her water and put the cup aside.

  Diamond drank half and left the cup in his lap, the water stained green by the morning light.

  “You’re definitely all right,” Rima declared. “Definitely recovered.”

  Elata watched the two of them, trying to decipher what was being said.

  “I’m just so happy,” the woman said, nothing about her voice happy. “I was terrified afterwards. And I was so sorry for you, of course. But you did recuperate. No permanent harm, I heard.”

  Diamond watched his water shimmering.

  “I don’t know how many times I asked about you,” said Rima. “I wanted to see you and tell you how sorry I was. But your mother explained that you were weak and recovering and I couldn’t visit. And later, she said they were being very, very careful with you. They couldn’t take any more chances.”

  Diamond was embarrassed and unsure why.

  “What happened?” Elata asked.

  “A mistake was made,” Rima blurted. “An error in judgment, that’s all. And we don’t need to talk about this anymore.”

  Diamond focused on his cup and little hands.

  “About your mother,” Rima said, steering the conversation. “I think of Haddi as a friend. I do. But I don’t see her much anymore. In fact, we barely speak. So no, I don’t know where she might be.” She squinted as she concentrated. “Now, of course, one of her cousins is a very good friend of mine. I suppose I could send you to him. But the last news that I heard was that even relatives aren’t invited inside the house, and Haddi never visits anymore. The family only sees your father going to work or doing errands.”

  Elata turned to Diamond. “But your father’s going to be home soon. Isn’t that right?”

  Diamond nodded, finding one good reason to smile.

  “Well then,” said Rima, relieved by the news. “I’m sure we’ll find him, and all of these mysteries can be resolved.”

  The three of them sat quietly.

  A throat was cleared, and Diamond looked up. Standing in the hallway was a boy no taller than him. He looked a little like Rima. Maybe he was Elata’s age, maybe younger. A special gray suit made him look like a soldier. He smiled and jumped, muttering, “Oh, it’s you. It is you.”

  Diamond sipped the cool water.

  “Hi, Seldom. This is Diamond,” said Elata.

  “I know who he is.” Entering the greeting room, the newcomer giggled and jumped again. “You’re the mystery boy. I’ve heard stories.”

  “Be polite,” his mother warned.

  Elata patted Diamond on the knee. “Seldom is strange, but in the best ways. And don’t be fooled by how stupid he looks. He really is smart.”

  How would a person look stupid?

  “So you’re waiting for your dad, huh?” Seldom came close enough to touch Diamond but didn’t. He stared hard at the boy’s face and hands. “You’re in the open. Are you going to get sick?”

  “Maybe,” said Diamond.

  “Oh, I hope not,” Rima said.

  Seldom bent down, his face level with Diamond’s face. “Do you know where he’s slaying?”

  “What?”

  With a slow, precise voice, he asked, “Do you know where your father is slaying today?”

  Diamond knew very little about the world, yet this stranger expected him to know where his father was.

  With different words, Seldom asked the question again. “Is he hunting the wilderness or near reef country?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Doesn’t he tell you where he’s slaying?”

  Diamond was nervous, wary.

  Elata asked Diamond, “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know that word,” the boy admitted.

  “What word?” the children asked.

  “ ‘Slaying.’ ”

  Surprised, Seldom looked at his mother.

  Rima leaned close to Diamond. “What are you saying? You don’t know what your father does for a living?”

  He shook his head.

  “Slayers are special hunters,” the woman said. “And your father’s very good at his job.”

  Diamond absorbed the words, but they refused to make sense. Dipping his head, he confessed, “We don’t talk about those things.”

  Everybody stared at him, puzzled and mute.

  Then Seldom jumped into the silence. Happy to be the smart voice, he said, “Your father hunts the coronas. And that makes our district rich, and it keeps the world safe, and I don’t think there’s a better job anywhere.”

  What was a corona?

  Diamond knew the word and that perhaps a monster was attached to it. But if he said nothing else, nobody would realize just how foolish he was. That’s what he was thinking, looking at Elata. A little smile broke out on her face, and she took a deep breath. Then she began to answer the unasked question.

  “A corona is,” she said.

  Loud bells began ringing. The big house door was opening, and a familiar voice shouted, “Rima? Taff here. Where are you?”

  “In the greeting room,” Rima called out.

  Elata’s mother appeared. Her first chore was to give Diamond a careful stare. Then she told everybody, “I looked. Every room, every corner. I’m sorry, but I couldn’t find his mother.”

  Diamond nodded, accepting what he already knew.

  The woman approached and bent over. Every face wanted to be too close to his. With a serious voice, she said, “Your room is in the back, with the toy soldiers. Is that right?”

  He nodded.

  “You said before . . . that you’ve never been outside . . . ?”

  “No.”

  “Until today.”

  With authority, he said, “Never.”

  She lowered her body, sitting on the floor. A long sigh was necessary. Then with a strong and quiet but distinctly furious voice, she asked, “What kinds of parents lock their child inside a big closet?”

  She wasn’t talking to him.

  Turning to Rima, she asked, “Did you know about this?”

  Seldom’s mother straightened her back, hands on knees. “Yes,” she began. Then with a defensive tone, she said, “But they had to take precautions. He’s a very frail child.”

  Taff shook her head doubtfully.

  Rima leaned forward. “You haven’t lived here long, dear. You don’t realize. Those old people love their boy, but he’s so weak. The first time he got sick could be the last. So they did whatever they could to protect him.”

  “Locking him inside that old storage chamber.”

  “You make it sound horrible.”

  “It is.”

  “Good gracious, I visited this boy. Ask him, he’ll tell you. We’ve talked. He and I had some nice conversations. Really, he’s always seemed very happy, very bright. As good as any boy I know, and maybe better.”

  Diamond dropped his head, feeling miserable.

  Taff stared at him until he looked at her eyes. “How do you feel, Diamond?”

  “All right.”

  “Are you sick?”

  He shook his head.

  “Well, I’m sorry. If this is going to make you ill . . . ”

  “I’m all right,” he insisted.

  “Good.”

  Elata touched his hand with hers. “You do feel warm.”

  “I always am.”

  Her mother pushed her hand against his forehead. “Warm like this?”

  “Yes.”

  Rima wanted any fresh topic. “We were just talking about Diamond’s
father. You wouldn’t know where we could find him?”

  “Between here and the sun,” said Taff. “And you’re right, I don’t know these people. Not like you do.”

  Rima bristled.

  Then Seldom laughed. “Guess what? Diamond doesn’t even know that his father hunts coronas.”

  “Well, that is odd,” Taff agreed.

  Diamond wanted to leave.

  Taff touched the stubbornly warm forehead again. “What do you know about the world?”

  He shrugged and practiced making silence.

  “And they never let you look outside,” she whispered.

  He said nothing.

  Elata grabbed his hand again. “Leave him alone, Mother.”

  “But I want to help him.”

  “Everybody wants to help,” Rima said.

  Taff pulled Diamond’s face to where their eyes met. “I stood inside your room. For a very long time, that’s what I did. It’s comfortable enough. I suppose. But it’s so isolated. I couldn’t hear the world outside. If I was child raised inside one dark room . . . well, I couldn’t have grown up normal.”

  “Who’s normal?” Elata asked.

  Taff ignored her daughter. “When we were standing on your landing, Diamond . . . I saw how you looked at everything. Every bird and bug was amazing. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a person as impressed as you were. The most ordinary things in the world, but you couldn’t stop staring. And now I know why.”

  Elata looked at Diamond’s left hand. Then she reached across his lap and picked up his right hand, turning the thumb.

  “Where’s the cut?” she asked.

  He pulled the hand to his stomach.

  “You could get infected,” she warned. “Maybe we should clean out that wound.”

  “What wound?” Rima asked.

  “On our way here,” Elata explained. “A fat splinter got into his thumb. I just don’t see it now.”

  Diamond made fists, saying nothing.

  Taff continued. “If you were my son, and if you really were frail and sickly, I’d make your room bright and full of color. I’d paint pictures of the world on your walls, and I would tell you about everything outside. And do you know why? The world is perfect. There’s nothing but the Creation. The world is enormous and wonderful, and you can’t be a person and not understand these things.”