✅ Younger Than You Think?

"I: Arrivals"

Iriña was aware of the world jolting around her a little, and the muted sound of the plane's wheels touching the ground, but she didn't know what the strange noises meant. She was too entertained by all the colours; all the bright things around her. Every time the sunlight gleamed off some new surface in the cabin, it was like her own little rainbow and she wanted to grab every one. She stretched out a hand and then it was gone. She wasn't aware that her head had moved as she turned; her thoughts weren't that clear yet. By the time she would have noticed that her rainbow had gone, she'd already forgotten what she was reaching for, distracted by the shape of her hand, or another little patch of colour on some other passengers bag.

She was wriggling a bit more now, and it was harder for Seamus to hold onto her. Mary glared at the child; she preferred it so much when they could sleep for much of the flight, and she was still watching out for 'Kelly' making another escape attempt. But for now it seemed like she wasn't aware how much her strength was coming back. She barely seemed to be aware of anything at all. There was a delay; of course there was. They sat and waited for five minutes, and then ten, while the plane sat resting on the asphalt. None of the flight crew told them anything, although they were being asked by one passenger or another almost constantly. Seamus had already picked up his hand luggage, and was standing ready to leave. They wouldn't be the first to disembark, and they wouldn't be the last either. Somewhere near the middle of the crowd; a family who had places to be, but were resigned to interminable delays whenever they travelled. They played the role perfectly, with Lyle nervously taking a bag off one shoulder and putting it back on the other every minute or two.

"Lyle," Mary growled without any malice. "Can you just decide how you want to hold that bag? Or put it down until we're moving? Your little jog won't get the doors open any faster."

A few minutes later, the doors were open. Down a mobile stairway that drove up to the side of the plane, and onto a crowded bus that would take them back to the terminal. Iriña's eyes met those of an old woman on the other side of the bus, who gave a crooked smile. Seemingly delighted to have the attention of a small child, she gave a gentle wave to show an empty hand, closed her fingers over her palm, opened them, and produced a bright red lollipop. Iriña saw that and giggled. It was amazing, something so bright and colourful could just appear. Suddenly something there, when a minute before there had been...

She didn't know. There was something amazing about it, but Iriña didn't know what had changed. She tried to think for a second, but she didn't know why she had been so impressed by... she didn't know. What had she just seen?

She could remember there had been beautiful things she was looking at before. Little rainbows in the air. Things she had grabbed for. Strange sounds around her, grabbing her attention. One in particular she remembered; there was something shiny, and a little rainbow in the air. And then it had vanished. But then what? Had she tried to find it? Had she looked for the beautiful spray of colours?

There was a question in her head that she didn't know how to answer. And when she tried to see what was missing, she didn't know what the question had been. Even thinking back to the moment she had asked herself that didn't work, because she didn't know when that had been. She had all these images in her mind, but she didn't know what had come before. Just a few seconds ago, the thoughts that had been in her mind slipped through her fingers like fine sand. There had been something, there had been a question, and now it was gone. She started to look around, and to wonder how many of these people she had seen before. But she couldn't work it out, because before she could even think about an answer the question was running away into the darkness. Her memory was broken; a piece of string flapping in the wind where the balloon had long since blown away. And as her thoughts started to return, Iriña knew on some level that a memory was supposed to connect the past to the future. Every moment like links in a chain, a continuous string of instants that connected from now all the way back to her earliest thoughts.

She couldn't put words to it, or such a powerful metaphor. She could only sense that something was wrong for moments, not even enough to form a full thought. But she knew something was wrong. She could feel the emptiness when the thread that should have connected her to the previous moment hung slack. And without ever understanding what she was trying to feel, her mind slowly started to fill with fear. The stream of moments that had been her life for as long as she could remember was shredded now, torn into individual memories that had no context to let her understand them. Instead of reaching for beautiful instants, she was grasping desperately for her thoughts, trying to hang on to what she had just lost as if it were a physical thing that her hands could hold. And it didn't work, it didn't come back to her. She didn't know what was upsetting her; she didn't know what she had been trying to do a moment before, but she could feel the failure and that was something she didn't know how to deal with.

By the time they were in the terminal building again, it was clear to Seamus that his baby was no longer looking at the things around her. The faint laughter and smiles had gone; so she would be getting her thoughts back in the next half hour. He hoped that she would try to cause problems again; her grasping for things that were well out of reach suggested that some of her muscles were regaining strength, even if she didn't know where to aim them.

The baby opened her mouth and moaned, possibly an attempt to call for help from someone who didn't know yet how weak her voice would be.

"Do you need a nap again?" Mark asked her, but she didn't seem to respond. Just struggled to vocalise. They slowly got closer to the customs desks, and to security, and to all the other processing that would be necessary before they could move on. And when they least expected it, Iriña would yell again. Just a wordless cry of distress, and her lungs were too weak to make as much noise as a real child, but some of the people around them were starting to turn their heads.

"She's testing us," Mary growled. "If she doesn't shut up now she can take a nap again. Got that, Kelly?"

"You know the problem with that," Seamus hissed.

"Yeah, but you warned her. If she keeps on making a fuss it's on her own head. I'll take her to the bathroom before security."

"I don't think she's listening to what you said. I don't think she even knows we're talking. There's something wrong with her."

"All the more reason to make her–"

"Leave it," Lyle snapped, seeming angry for the first time in the whole trip. "I'll take her."

"You can't give her–"

"She's scared, guys. Can't you tell that? You're supposed to be the babysitting experts. I've seen that look in her eyes before, from guys in college who were experimenting with... well, some stuff. To me those eyes are like someone who's had a really bad trip, and for a baby to feel like that, I think it must be a nightmare that's shaken her up. I'll take her, right? I'll talk to her until she remembers where she is."

Seamus handed the baby over, moaning and trying to scream now, but her lungs were too weak to project the sound, so it was barely more than a gurgle.

"Look, kid," Lyly whispered, lifting Iriña up onto one hip so their heads were close together. "You're scared, I know that. Can you hear me? Do you know what I'm saying? I know you're scared. All those dreams, all those nightmares. It must be pretty crazy, right? But just listen to my voice. Let me be your lifeline. Focus on my voice, one word after another. It doesn't matter if you know what they mean. That's somewhere in your head, but you don't need it now. You just need something to hold onto, something to keep focus. Focus on my words, listen, and follow each one to the next until you start to understand. Focus on my words. Listen to my voice. Let it keep you safe..."

"Does that work?" Mary asked Seamus. "Sounds pretty weird."

"Don't know. For an addict who's coming down and doesn't know what's real and what isn't, I guess it could. For a baby coming out from a nightmare, I doubt it. But a steady voice might calm her if she doesn't understand yet. She'll be okay for now, I hope."