Sleepwalker Wolf

Prosopagnosia

Valery

The morning sickness has barely let up by the day my uncle is arriving. I've at least stopped carrying a bowl around with me wherever I go. It's less to do with puking less and getting better at knowing when I'm going to puke. I salivate like someone's cooking a ten-ounce steak in front of me and if I'm not hurrying to the bathroom that very second, it's going to end up on the floor. Despite barely being able to get down a few saltines for every meal, my stomach is steadily growing.

I'm sitting on the steps of the front porch, leaning against Trav's arm, waiting for my uncle to arrive. The early afternoon sun does little to warm the late fall air. It's likely to start snowing in the next few days, blanketing the ground in soft white and making the road down to town dangerous. The trees are bare, besides the deep green of the pine trees.

Sandy, Trev, Eve, and Eli had gone to town to start the annual stocking of the pantry before the snow came. It gave the three of us some privacy to talk to my dad. Walter was inside, wandering past the front door occasionally to check on us.

"It's gonna be alright, sweetness," Trav says in a low, quiet voice. He rubs his thumb over my stomach and squeezes my shoulders.

"I just hope my dad's okay. Uncle Garry said he's been clean and the drug haze has gone away. Do you think he'll know me this time?"

Trav doesn't say anything, just presses his lips into a line and stares down the gravel drive.

The sound of crunching gravel and the hum of a motor precedes a dark pick-up truck coming up the driveway. It bumps to a stop beside the delivery van and my uncle climbs out. I can see the silhouette of Dad sitting in the passenger seat. Uncle Garry opens the passenger door and helps Dad step down from the truck with uncoordinated steps.

Dad still looks a little shabby, but his hair is clean, his beard trimmed. His clothes seem to hang from him like drapes, a loose jacket almost falling from his shoulders. Eyes clear, but confused, look around at the surrounding trees.

He looks like a stranger to me still, but as his scent washes over me from the slight breeze in the air, I can feel the familiarity of it to my bones. A warm comfort blooms in my chest, delicate like the petals of a flower. I might not remember him in any other way, but I remember that smell of aftershave, deodorant, and that fatherly smell that makes you feel like a baby being swaddled.

"Daddy?" I stand shakily to my feet, resting a hand on my bump.

His eyes snap over to me, but his eyes stay confused. "Who are you?" He looks back over at his brother. "Garry, I thought you were taking me to see Valery?"

"I did, Russ. That's Valery," Uncle Garry says, gesturing towards me.

"No, I-" Dad squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head. A groan rises from the back of his throat, mixed with a frustrated growl.

I can sense Walter's presence in the open doorway. "Is everything okay out here?"

Dad's breathing heavily now, still softly shaking his head. "The faces," he whispers. "I can't."

"Let's go inside, Dad. Let them talk. We can keep an eye on things from the window," Trav says, rubbing my back before turning and following Walter inside. The door closes almost inaudibly behind them.

It's quiet for a minute while Dad calms down. I step off the porch and close a little distance between us. "Daddy, it's me."

"She looks just like Melinda, Russ. It's unmistakable. They have the same nose, same chin, even the same height."

Dad sighs and grips his hair in fists. "I never told you, Garry. I should have, but I just didn't want to say it out loud. I know you, but other people. They all look the same. I hoped I'd be able to recognize my own baby, but I just... can't."