Murder Recall

Recollection

Today counts as my one hundredth birthday. It is February 29. I am willing, finally, to intentionally reflect on what became of my own two birth children. I never told Raya that I became sure she was one of them. She never remembered that on her own in a way to be able to talk about, I think because she was a young baby when she was stolen from me and therefore the memories were too early in her life to recall and understand. She does remember the trust she had in me and the warm love that there was between us, but without realizing so because no words were ever assigned to the experience in her mind. The love and the trust returned. That was enough for me. We built a new relationship upon that. Raya, me and Michi became a close threesome. We were usually together. That stayed even during the last year of Raya's life, when she was eighty years old and I was ninety-two, when her memories rescrambled in a form of dementia that eventually drowned out all her identity. Oddly enough though, from what I saw of her, the last year of her life was the happiest. Free from identity, unable to connect with any past, not even knowing a past time existed, allowed her experience of being, the trust and love, to be uncluttered. Every experience became the original experience of awareness which thrilled her as it does the young child when the awareness of living suddenly dawns. To experience the wonder afresh, repeatedly, was a blessing for her. Expectations, demands, regrets, ultimately acquired from the shared morality of significant others in life, did not exist for her. There was no controlling or restricting Raya and eventually she wandered off in her dementia and disappeared. Michi and I could not find her. We were very sad until one day a little gray bird came into our lives and stayed with us for a year, always remaining near us, forever chirping and singing, and we came to accept that this was the spirit of Raya embodied in another form.

For Roger, after his chip was removed, the recurrence of his past had a different effect upon him from how it all came back to Raya. He couldn't let go of his obsession with regaining his ability to recall. And then suddenly one morning that changed. He didn't want to remember anything any more. Something was terrifying him. He kept whispering, 'History repeats itself'. He wouldn't say what it was that he remembered. It was evident that he was deeply ashamed. He was always checking behind him, lest something take him unawares. He armed himself with what he could. Then one day he was gone and didn't return. While Raya, me and Michi stayed at the cabin, Doug and Maya tracked Roger. They followed him all the way to the floodlands and then lost him. From signs on the shore, they concluded he had dragged a canoe and gone out on the water. That was a time when winds would gain to very high speeds and create huge white-capped waves.

Finally, after what seemed like months because a new season had begun, the high winds ceased. The deciduous trees were losing their leaves and blanketing the forest floor. As had become habit for me at the time, I made my way to the shore of the flood water where I would stand looking across the water, wondering what happened to Eden. The water was perfectly still, a mirror to the sky. Michi was older at this time, living on her own. A canoe sat amongst the bushes. It was empty except for one paddle. I longed to go out in it and follow the shoreline but I wondered who had brought it there. I didn't want to take it lest they returned and needed it. I waited and looked for any sign of who that might be. I found no footprints or other clues. Then I pulled the canoe into the water anyway and got inside it, thinking that if anyone came, I would remain nearby and they would see me. I went out as far as I could without loosing sight of land. I still could not see the other shore so I returned whence I'd come.

Someone was waving on the shore. I should have stuck to my plan and stayed nearby. I waved back and headed towards whoever it was. I landed the canoe apologizing. The man did not seem to mind. He looked familiar. I was about to get out of the canoe.

"Stay if you like," he said, "I'll take you for a paddle. There's something I need an opinion on." Once he spoke, I recognized him.

I waited until we were out on the water and said, "Hello Roger."