|DOWN BY THE RIVER|
The first thing I noticed about the new place Josiah had taken me was the music. I recognized the song immediately, though I can't place it with a specific memory. I knew the lyrics word for word, so I obviously heard them often.
My eyes opened to a wide windshield in an old, red truck. It's engine was loud, but it didn't overpower the sound of the music. I sat in the middle of the backseat.
The driver was my father, the one I saw at the baseball field in my memory. I could see his face in the rearview mirror. His eyebrows were crinkled tight, and his brown eyes were squinted. Perhaps from the sunlight, or maybe he was worried about something.
The vehicle drove down an older road; one I, of course, didn't recognize.
The song ended, and my father turned the radio knob down to where the music was nearly inaudible.
"Daddy?"
I jumped at the sound of a tiny voice to my right. I hadn't had time to check out my full surroundings. The voice belonged to a small little girl in a booster seat. Her tiny legs swung from the seat, and her face was staring out the window at the passing trees. All I could see of her was her brown, curly hair that was tied back with a ribbon.
"Yes sweety?" My father answered.
"Why couldn't I stay at home with mommy?" She asked. Her attention still belonged to the window, so I couldn't read her face, but a slight pout was in her words.
My father sighed. "Because you need to be with me."
"But I wanted to play with my dollies at home."
"I know sweety, you'll have to wait until tonight. We have to pick up your brother from T-ball practice."
She didn't speak again, but she did turn to face me. Her bright green eyes were her largest feature, which is true for most kids. Her nose was tiny, along with rosy red lips below it. Her skin was porcelain, reminding me of a doll. One small hand reached down to my lap, grabbing a teddy bear that apparently had been there the entire time. She hugged it close to her chest.
I noticed a dangling bracelet with random beads placed on it around her wrist.
A gasp escaped my lips, and I quickly put my hands over my mouth. I'm not sure if they can hear me or not.
A warm hand was on my arm in seconds. I looked to my left where Josiah sat.
I removed my hands from my face and mouthed 'can they hear us?' to him.
"No Harley." He said with a small smile.
"Is that me?" I asked him aloud.
"Yes. We are in one of your memories from your childhood."
I looked back over to 'little me'. She didn't look anything like how I imagined her. I pictured a blond girl with blue eyes...
"This is the day you and your father played baseball at the park." Josiah added.
"Last time I was her..." I motioned to the young me. "In that body I mean."
"I figured it would be easier to get a perspective on things if you were an onlooker, rather than a part of the memory."
I glanced up into the rearview mirror again, noticing this time that mine and Josiah's reflection was not there, but the top of 'little me's' head was.
"We aren't really here, are we?" I asked.
"Not exactly. We can't alter the memory in any way, but we can relive it. You can look at it from any angle you'd like. In your other memories you were forced to act out the original motions."
I didn't even bother to question how he knew that, it's just become an expected Josiah trait for him to know everything.
"You were six years old here. That's your father, David Jamison."
I thought on that information for a moment, then developed more questions. "Why didn't he want me to stay at home with my mother?"
Josiah took a moment to answer my question. "Your parents had a fight this morning."
"About what?" I asked, confused.
He opened his mouth to speak, but my father spoke before Josiah had a chance to answer.
"Here we are Harley." He said.
The truck bumped onto a gravel driveway that led into the back of the park Larson and I visited.
He came around to unhook her seatbelt, then he put her down on the ground. They walked hand in hand towards the field.
I noticed that there was one other field off to the side of the one me and Larson played at. I guess I didn't see it before.
Me and Josiah followed behind them silently.
I studied the park for more changes, or rather things that I missed the first time. Many kids played on the other field; their shouts and cheers filled in the background noise.
"What are you thinking about?" Josiah asked. His gaze was on me.
I often wonder why he bothers to question me when he seems to already know my answer. Perhaps his purpose is to get me to figure things out on my own, I think he has said that before actually. "I'm just wondering why I don't remember any of this."
He tucked his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, and shifted his gaze to the horizon. "You will Harley."
"Why this memory? This day was twelve years before my death.."
"We have to move slow, and start from the beginning. You won't understand the point of all of this if we start in the middle of your story."
Wonder if moving slow isn't fast enough? I don't really notice the feeling of a ticking clock anymore, but it's still there...
Josiah stopped walking and caught my hand. His brown eyes poured over my face. "You are worried?"
No secrets with him. "My time is still running out.." I said quietly.
"Don't worry, Harley. When it's your time, you'll know. Just bare with me."
His body was so close to mine, I could smell his wonderful scent. Cookies this time, specifically ones still baking at my grandmother's house on cold winter nights. One wiff of him can paint a whole picture in my mind. In this case, I hope it is a memory that was once real for me.
"Do you trust me?" He asked, pulling me from my delicious memory.
"Yes, I trust you."
He smiled wide, like a soldier seeing his children for the first time after war. I remember what that looks like because of a tiny memory of a random news cast I have.
"Good, then let's go finish this memory." He said.
We both ran hand in hand towards the field where mini me was already in her father's arms. This was the last part of the memory I saw.
He swung her around a few times before planting her back on her feet. Her laughter was music to my ears; maybe because it was the sound of my own happiness.
"What's so significant about this day?" I asked. If it's the beginning of the story that ends with my death, then it must be important.
"This day is the beginning of a chain of events." Josiah's words were as confusing as ever.
I didn't get enough time to ponder them before the memory interrupted me.
"How's you arm Harley?" My father asked little Harley.
I suddenly noticed a bandage on her right arm.
"It's okay, it doesn't hurt as much." She answered. She didn't seem to show much emotion about it.
I looked down to the same spot on my arm. Sure enough, there was a scar on the back of my wrist shaped like a round blob. It hadn't been there before until now.
Josiah answered my silent question. "You are very good at blocking things out; making it as if they didn't happen..."
"What did happen?" I asked.
His tiny smile left altogether. "Your mother accidentally dropped hot water on you. She was making tea... It was careless, but it was an accident."
"Is that why they had the argument?"
"Yes." His eyes were curious as to how I would take the news. Surprisingly, I took it okay, I mean it was an accident..
"Daddy!" Another kids voice this time.
I turned towards the sound to find Baylor; a much smaller Baylor. I knew it was him because of the messy brown hair. Clearly he never learned to comb it. I couldn't help but smile at seeing him. I could feel the love I had for him swelling up my throat.
"Baylor!" Harley said this time. She excitedly embraced him.
The two kids nearly fell to the ground in a giggling heap.
"I seemed to be really close to Baylor." I observed out loud.
"You were." Josiah said. "Baylor was your world, especially towards the end."
I considered that response. I can remember the compassion he showed me the night of the prom.
"How old is he here?" I asked Josiah.
"Six years and eight months."
How is he six? I'm six here. I realized that the two kids looked very much alike. I hadn't noticed before because I assumed my hair was blond.. "We were twins..." I said. It wasn't a question, I somehow knew; I could feel it.
"Yes. You were his twin, and his best friend."
I suddenly felt bad for Baylor. He probably didn't take my death well.
"He loves you Harley." Josiah said, attempting to comfort me.
"I love him too." I said. This was real love that I was feeling, not like the love I thought I had for Larson. This love had a physical impact on my body.
"Maybe you can see him again someday." Josiah said quietly.
I'm not sure what he meant by that. I didn't bother to ask, knowing that I wouldn't likely get an informative answer from him anyway. That's the kind of question Josiah doesn't answer, but it is, however, the kind that haunts my mind.