The Memory Keeper

Chapter 19

Natalie Gorman did not keep waking in the night because she dreamed of her parents. Piper's pills had taken care of that. The reason she kept throwing the sheets off of her, eyes burning with tears, was because of Mr. Sheinfeld's memories from earlier that day.

They had gone back and forth between an embrace to slamming doors. Flower's soft-rounded features, Peter's arms full of blue flowers, and Natalie herself chasing them both, trying to take the memories, but they played out faster and faster until it was all a blur, like a movie projector being winded too fast.

She could hear Flower scream Peter's name, the sobs waking Natalie every time. Peter's voice would echo from her dream, fading as she sat up, awake, and rubbed her hands over her face, not able to comprehend what he was saying. Soon she was too afraid to close her eyes. Afraid the dreams would become hands that suffocated her, pressed her into the mattress, turned her into a prisoner.

Peter had left her around two in the morning. She wished he would have stayed, but could not gather the courage to ask him to. Her love seat in the next room was big enough, and she had plenty of extra pillows and blankets. Maybe he would have. Maybe he wanted to. If only she had asked.

By the time she decided it was too late to catch another hour or more of sleep, the sun was rising. Light spilled through the window, coating her bedroom in soft shades of orange.

On the balcony, Natalie held her mug of coffee between her hands close to her lips, enjoying the smell of comfort. Next door, the smoking lady coughed on her cigar. A tabby cat jumped onto the lip of the railing and started to make its way around, much to Natalie's pounding heart, thinking just a simple draft of wind could send it flying over the edge. But the smoking lady just continued poking at the tobacco in her bowl.

"You had some guests last evening," the woman said without looking up, her voice like crinkled paper. "I watched from up here as they knocked at your door for a while. Then I finally just told them you weren't home." She smiled, revealing broken, missing teeth. "I have not had a visitor in decades, but even then, I would like a notice."

Natalie already knew who she was talking about. The mind weavers from Cape Colette. "Yes, I would like a notice, too."

"Creepy, they were."

Natalie looked back over, her coffee rippling as she suppressed the chill that had clamped onto her frame.

The lady gestured to her own face. "Expressionless. Like ghosts."

"Perhaps that is all they were."

Unaware of the seriousness of this discussion, the smoking lady guffawed until she started coughing and wheezing. The cat, apparently used to the ear-rattling noise, just continued tight-rope walking on the railing. All of this made the mind weaver want to throw her coffee cup across the street. What was she doing trying to pretend everything was normal?

Her life never had and never would be normal.

***

Piper did not answer her door.

Natalie had tried to call on the phone before she walked to Piper's house. She waited until she could not wait anymore. She had planned to offer the box the lord and lady had given her. Despite Piper's insistence that none of this bothered her, Natalie knew better, and she knew whatever was in the box may offer a sense of closure. At least, she hoped.

Fear had creeped into her bones the longer she sat on the swinging bench by the door. It creaked on its hinges. The leaves rustled in the breeze. The day would have been perfect if the mind weavers from the mountains of Cape Colette were not in town. Perhaps she and Piper would be in downtown eating a sandwich.