Stolen Memories (Book 3 of the Magical Machine series)

Melanie held out a lump of plain brown cloth to me. “I brought it like you asked. I don’t completely understand, but I won’t stop you.”

Gravity unfolded the lump into the shapeless brown dress I was wearing when I met Patrick the first time and he stole me away from my world.

A brown strip of cloth slipped away from the dress and slid toward the floor. I grabbed it and held up the headscarf. My disguise.

“Thank you. I know this wasn’t what you were directed to do, but I really need to see my friend. I promised to see him at least once a month, and he doesn’t live in the type of place where I can visit without a disguise.”

Melanie shakes her head. I wish she would talk to me more and say more. It is like she is a puppet of the family and doesn’t really have her own thoughts. My asking her to help me slip out while on this shopping trip is the first time she’s ever done something other than what she was asked. Except, I guess I asked her to help me slip out, so maybe it doesn’t really count.

I pull off the knee length soulless, colorless, black skirt and frilly bleached white blouse that Melanie insisted I wear this morning.

Azalea informed me this morning, “My dear, before you show up to spout your nonsense in front of the senate, you must go and get clothing proper for politics.” She turned away from me and waved at Melanie, “Melanie, take our dear guest out get some business formal attire. Make sure it is nice looking. We don’t want anyone thinking we clothe our little freak in anything but the best.”

I formed my plan to escape while Melanie was dressing me.

I want to see Nathan again, to talk to him. I want to know his opinion on what I should do. The dress is as easy to pull on now as it was when Lizzie gave it to me.

“Thank you,” I say to Melanie.

She nods, and walks away.

It feels strange to wrap the headscarf over my white hair again. It is strange to be hiding again. Patrick pushes me to just be myself so much that I’ve almost forgotten the feeling of hiding myself.

I slip out the back door, the employee’s entrance of this upscale shop, and wonder the back alleys looking for a familiar landmark. The sharp barbs of the smell of urine assault my nose, and the putrid rotting smell of unwashed human and garbage make me want to hold my nose, but I have to pretend to be one of these people again.

No, I shouldn’t feel that way. I’m not superior to these people. I am one of them. If it wasn’t for Patrick realizing that I had some sort of strange power, I would still be rotting in the back alley’s with the rest of the city’s trash. These are the people I want to help. These are the people I want to shelter and wash.

I come out on a bigger street that has some shuttle scooting along above it. I follow the path away from the market that Nathan took me on last time until I come to his door.

I press the old cracking button and hear a ring inside. No one answers the door. Did I come while he is at work or out running errands? It is the middle of the day. I’m so caught up in my own world, I didn’t even think about if he would even be around.

Do I wait here and get Melanie in trouble, or do I head back disappointed for not getting to see him? No. I might not get another chance.

His porch doesn’t have any chairs, probably because they would be stolen if they were just sitting out, so I let myself slide down the wall of the house and sit leaning up against the house. I have to warn him that he might not see me for a while. He probably doesn’t pay attention to politics.

“Hope?” His voice wakes me up.

“Yes?” How long was I out for? Was I that tired that I just fell asleep leaning against a house?

His arms wrap around me and pull me close.

“Lizzie told me that you disappeared. I thought you died or somethings.” His voice is muffled into my shoulder.

“No, I got picked up by a politician. I’m fine. Probably better off than most of the other orphans.”

He is still holding me. Apparently I worried him. We’d promised to meet up once a month and to not worry in between.

“Don’t let Lizzie worry you. I’m sorry I didn’t tell anyone, but I wasn’t really given a chance.”

“Tell me inside,” His arms fall away and he stands up holding a hand out to me, which I gratefully accept, and let him pull me to my feet. It feels right to be here. I should’ve left with him and lived a simple life. Now I had things to learn and people to please.

His apartment looks very much like I remember, except maybe a little less clean. In fact, he looks a little scruffy.

“Sit, make yourself at home, I’ll make some tea.”

I sit in a rickety dining chair, and wait as he puts hot water on the stove. I would complain, but I don’t want to. Especially after the trouble I’ve already caused him by simply disappearing.

“I’m sorry for disappearing. I was offered the chance to make life better for everyone without having to fight physical battles. I was promised that a shuttle full of free food and clothing would be sent to the market every day. Is that still happening?”

“Yeah, everyone wandered why a shipment of goods appeared there every day. That was a deal you made?”

“Yes. I made a deal a deal with Patrick McNeil of the rich McNeil family, and I’ve been living with them. I seem to be some sort of exotic pet to them though. I’m not sure I made the right decision.”

Nathan sits down and scratches at his scraggly beard. He really should shave it away. “I can’t tell you if you made the right decision. Tell me more about what you want to do, and what you’ve done.”

He sits there, not saying a word as I finish up the story. I want him to say something. To tell me I was right, or wrong. Instead he just stares at me, and I feel, itchy. I need to move. My fingers play with the rough fabric of my dress.

“Well, what do you think?” I finally ask, unable to take the silence any longer.

He shakes his head, his shaggy blond hair flopping across his eyes, “I don’t know. I told you to do what you think is right. I can’t judge your actions.”

He stops, and I feel like I’ve been slapped. Except what he said isn’t chastisement for my actions but it feels like it.

“I thought… I thought it might be better since less people will get hurt.” I scuff at the floor with my brown booted feet.

“I don’t know Hope. I can’t see the future. Do you know anything about politics and government? Do you understand anything about their world. Or will you end up being a pawn for their silly games? Or, knowing you, do you plan on destroying the government, taking all their memories, and trying to run it yourself? I guess, my real question is, do you know what you are doing?”

“No, but Patrick does. He has a plan, and he wants to help me make the city a better place for everyone.” Patrick seemed genuine. He was still leaving the shuttle loads of supplies every day for the poor. He wouldn’t just use me as some pawn for his own games.

Nathan shakes his head again, “Hope, make your own plans. Follow your own dreams. Don’t let this other man control what you do, or you will simply become his pawn like you were Lizzie’s pawn.”

“I don’t know what else to do though. I don’t want to hurt more people, and he offers a solution that seems like it will work well.”

“Talk to him. Come up with a plan that will most definitely work. Then, make sure you believe in that plan and that it is the best you can do. Don’t let yourself just be swept along by the whims of the world.”

I nod. Its good advice, but I don’t really know how to even start to come up with a plan. What would I even plan? Once the politicians decided to do something to help the people, I shouldn’t need to do anything else. All I need to do to achieve that is speak from my heart. They should listen to the pleas someone begging from their heart.

Warmth envelops my left hand, and I can see Nathan’s hands wrapping around mine.

“Please Hope, don’t…” He stops, as if unsure what to say.

A shrill whistle fills the room from the teapot, and he releases my hands and quickly stands up going over to the teapot.

I wonder what he planned to say. He’s not saying anything now, just grimly pouring two cups of tea.

“Sorry I don’t have much in the way of choices for tea, just plain Lipton tea.”

“That’s fine. Nothing wrong with plain tea.”

I’m sitting in the same room, but there’s a distance now. It’s been growing since we left the jail. It grew when he left me with Lizzie. And it grew when I left him on a shuttle to the upper levels. And just now, when he didn’t speak, when I lied, that distance grew.

He set a plain white cup in front of me, and I played with the string holding the teabag.

“I might not be able to make it here once a month.”

“I figured as much.” His voice is flat and all intonation is stripped from it. We are two strangers sharing trivial details.

“Hope, make it back here one day, ok? I find myself missing you when you aren’t here.” His voice has a pleading note. It carries hope that one day, we can close this gap.

I nod and take a sip of my tea. “I’ll come back whenever I can to let you know how things are going. Maybe you’ll even get to see me on the big screens in the city. I just don’t want you to worry about me.”

He nods, his own tea sitting between his hands. ”Sometimes I feel as if I never escaped jail. I think, in some ways I didn’t. I’ll always be looking over my shoulder, waiting for some city guard to notice me and take me back in.”

“I think, that it will always be the world against us. I think that’s what that feeling is.” I gulp my tea, letting the burning sensation of too hot tea sear my mouth and throat.

“I should get going,” I hear myself say as I stand. I don’t really want to leave, but I don’t want to sit in this strange awkwardness anymore.

He stands up, and leads me to the door, opening it up and letting me out of his apartment. I walk past, and I wish I had the courage to say something.

He grabs my hand as I slip past, and gently pulls me back around to face him. He looks as if he wants to say something.

He leans in and kisses me on the cheek before quickly leaning back. “Come back to me Hope. Please, come back one day.”

I nod, not trusting my voice. Too many things are unsaid, but more is said in that silence. I think, that maybe I love him, like Lily loved him. Maybe, I am still Lily under the broken memories, the being part machine, and the strange powers. Maybe I am nothing but a fake with stolen memories and stolen feelings.

I turn away, and pull my hand away. I shouldn’t stay here any longer.