Lost Kids

Memories

It had been fifteen years. Fifteen years since all of this had first started. I should be twenty-five now, thought Zary Zosime regretfully. And Jace should be thirty. She never gave up, though. Never. Zary was not a quitter. She wanted answers. She would get them. And so would all the others. Every last one would get answers. Maybe then she would be normal again. They'd be normal again. For now, no such luck.

"Z-A-R-E!" A gleeful toddler's voice squealed, pulling her out of her grave thoughts.

"Hey, Zary, someone's here to see you," said Jace.

"Really, Jace?" Zary said sarcastically. "I hadn't noticed."

He grinned and she grinned back. The five-year-old yelled "Z-A-R-E!" again, just in case no one had heard yet.

"She can't spell," Jace remarked.

"I'm teaching her letters, Jace, not spelling. z-a-r-e is the closest-sounding thing to Zary."

The five-year-old girl poked her head into the room. The moment she saw Zary, her face lit up. "Z-A-R-E!" she yelled yet again.

"Hey, Jujube," Zary said, grinning. Jujube wasn't the little girl's real name, but no one had thought of one yet, so they called her Jujube. Zary didn't know why. As far as Zary knew, Jujube didn't know what a jujube was. Her favorite food was jelly beans, not gummies, cough drops, or any type of fruit.

"U-N-E-K-O-R-N-Z!" shouted Jujube.

"That's right Jujube, unicorns."

"B-A-K-E-B-L-A-Z-A-B-L-N-T!" Jujube shrieked, pouting.

"Yes, that's why I've been teaching you for ten years, Jujube. So you can say z-a-r-e and make profound statements like 'unicorns' and 'basketball has a ball in it'."

"I'm surprised you can understand her with her letter talk," said Jace.

"Me too," said Zary.

"M-E-N-O-L-I-K-B-L!"

"No, you don't," Zary agreed. "Come on, let's go play basket together."

"What's 'basket'?" asked Jace, while Jujube screamed,"A-T-Z-D-A-T?!"

"Basketball without a ball," replied Zary and she carried Jujube away, leaving Jace behind, extremely confused.

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Jace remembered the first conversation he'd had with Zary. He remembered them searching for names for themselves and finding Ráðúlfr. He remembered Zary not knowing what she wanted her name to mean and him finding a meaning that fit her perfectly. He remembered all that and he thought of it now.

14 years ago

The boy had been roaming around for four days when he saw that girl. Her black hair made her look like she had stuck her finger in an electric socket, it was that wild. Her eyes were different shades of green at the same time. which made them look like leaves in a forest, with sunlight peeking through the cracks.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"I might ask you the same thing," she said, with an attempt to look cool and collected, although really she just looked fidgety and nervous.

"Do you even have a name?"

"Yeah. But I don't have to tell you, so I won't. Now leave me alone."

"How old're you, then?"

"I'm not s'posed to talk to strangers," she replied. "And you're a stranger. So I can't talk to you." By now she looked ready to bolt.

"Really. And who said that, pray tell?"

"Who says 'pray tell'?"

"Me. And anyway, you're avoiding the question .

"Says me. And- And m- My mum."

"Do you have a mum?"

"Maybe I do and maybe I don't and it's none of your business anyhow. So there."

"Oh, c'mon! I just want to talk. I'm not dangerous and I  won't hurt you. Promise!"

The girl observed his muscular build and strong hands skeptically. "Really."

"Yes!"

"Fine," she said finally.