“Yeah. I lost my memory there because of an experiment.” That’s what they did, experiments, to find out what we were. “I knew who I was and then it was just… all gone.”
My amazing bad luck went further than kidnapping and magical experiments too. My former self apparently hadn’t felt comfortable enough to open up much to the other captives before everything went blank. Even if I had let something slip, I arrived shortly before the end of one auction cycle. All the people that met me before I lost my memory were soon sold, taking all the clues about my past with them.
With effort, I focused on the pencil in my hand and the strokes it made on the paper as I kept going.
“The first really clear memory I have is when Rachel gave me her blanket. She just knew something happened and that I needed it. She—I-I—" I coughed to dislodge the sudden lump in my throat. “You know, I really should have paid more attention because losing my memory and not answering to my old name only gave the guards an excuse to try out new names.” I forced a laugh. “As you can imagine they weren’t flattering.”
Temple didn’t believe my attempt to lighten the mood. “Do you want to take a break or—"
“No, I just want to draw.”Don’t think about the words. Just draw and keep going.“So when I totally changed overnight and my mind was broken, they started calling me crazy and slow, things like that. But the slow and stupid comments faded since I always—uh, the guards decided crazy fit me best. Madman and Lunatic became the favored nicknames.”
"Neither is appropriate for a name," he commented quietly.
"The nicknames eventually led to…Max and Larry."
"What?"
"Mad Max and Loony Larry." Crap. That line went rogue. I opened my wallet to get my eraser.
Temple spoke after a few moments of furious erasing. "Mad Max I understand, it’s a movie. Is the other from something?"
"Uh, no? Probably not.” I scowled at the lovely purple-pink flower. “The guards thought they wereso hilariousand clever coming up with it. I absolutely hated being called Larry or Loony Larry, which made it even better, I’m sure."
No matter how much I tried to focus on my drawing, the words were getting through. I couldn't disconnect. Fortunately I stopped myself from telling the whole story, it still felt like a secret, something too sensitive to expose to the light of day.
Maybe I should just quit talking. But if I let it out, would the memories stop having so much power over me?
I put my colored pencil down. Talking about this felt like walking over broken glass. It hurt and I couldn’t focus on anything but the jagged pieces in my skin. But I actuallywantedto keep going.
"Some jerk guard even wrote the nicknames on my arms in permanent marker,” I confessed. “Lunatic on one side, Madman on the other. In case I forgot again. But I didn’t. The marker stayed there so long, it really did seem permanent. I rubbed at the ink, but it stayed. I thought it wasnevergonna come off. For a long time, it didn’t. Then it did, bit by bit.” I shook my head as I drifted back out of the memory. “That was so crazy."
Temple leaned closer towards me, reminding me of his presence and offering silent comfort. His hand rested near mine on the grass, but we weren’t touching. In front of us, however, our shadows were touching. They connected and blended into one shape. I tried to remember how our shadows looked to draw later.
"The name Larry came first,” I said next. “I really freakin’ hated Loony Larry. I tried to go back to Gideon. The guards wouldn’t acknowledge me as Gideon anymore, they slapped me when I brought up Gideon. But the rest of them helped me, my friends. They suggested Max for Mad Max, sort of a compromise between the guard’s preference and mine. I liked it better, but... The guards tried to get them to knock it off, they hassled them, but they kept calling me Max anyway. So my name became Max.” My hands dug into the grass and met the dirt underneath, cool soil covering my fingers. “They didn’t have to do that. I was so grateful they did.”
I coughed, finally snapping out of story time. “So yeah, what about Max? I will realize who you’re talking about when you use it."
"Are you sure?" Temple questioned.
The name did remind me of where it came from and the worst part of my life. Even if part of me liked the name and thought it suited me, I wasn’t sure I was strong enough to keep facing all the awful memories the name dredged up.
"Well, I guess it doesn’t bring up the best memories."
"We can always keep looking,” Temple suggested. “Find something that suits you and you like."
"Yeah, okay."
No suggestions were forthcoming, but I guess I had time. We stayed out in the sunlight for a long time. While not sure I felt any better after sharing, I did feel different, lighter maybe?
That night, I flipped through the book of Shakespeare plays Temple gave me on a whim. I looked through all the names for inspiration. For some reason, I enjoyed the idea of Lysander’s name and mine coming from the same source. But none of them seemed right. Most were a little wacky like Desdemona and Prospero. Oh well.
I grabbed my colored pencils and sketchpad next, along with my wallet since it carried my eraser. Eventually I’d have other things that belonged in there more than stray art supplies but until then it was pretty handy. I set to work drawing me and Temple there on the lawn, sun shining down on us while I talked about the darkest days of my past.
This new memory wasn’t exactly pleasant but it wasn’t totally painful either. Just like freedom and the most important things in life were turning out to be, it was complicated. But that didn’t matter. I still wanted to remember this day.
With the black pencil, I started coloring in the shadow and the places where his silhouette and mine became one. It made me smile.
~
