Happisad Memories

Chapter 2: Thirty-Nine Weeks

It was about nine months ago, she remembered. She had just missed a period and knew her body felt different, she felt different. The happisad memory was exactly as she remembered: the bathroom product odors, the cold tiles under her bare feet, her right hand, half peed on while trying to aim at the pregnancy test stick, the rush going through her body when the second bar appeared, confirming what she already knew. The only difference, this was barely noticeable but she could tell, is that the overall color tone of the place was orange, like the three suns of the Land of Morning, as if she was seeing it all again wearing orange-tinted sunglasses. She figured this was the color that the realm of happisad memories had. She texted her husband with her left hand, while still holding the pregnancy stick with her right hand to take a picture of it. The text was simple: "I was right J " with the picture of the positive test. In the few seconds it took her to flush and wash her hands, her husband had already stopped watching his show to come and see her. He had the biggest smile on his face, bigger than on their wedding day even. She did not even know this was possible. Instead of returning his smile, she started crying uncontrollably. She did not recall crying when she first found out she was pregnant, but it felt like this was such a long time ago now that there were plenty of things she could have forgotten. He looked at her with a serious look in his eyes and kissed her forehead.

"Boy or girl? What do you think?" the husband asked.

"I don't know," she said, "too early to tell. I don't think we should find out though."

They hugged and kissed for a long time and then parted ways. She wanted to be with him. She missed her husband as if they had been separated for months. She was about to join him when a small piece of glossy, black paper with a shiny, white dot on it appeared in front of her and blocked her way. She could see a red X right next to the dot. The voice of the Nalhak echoed in the room.

"This is where the you is now. The map will trace a white path when the you is heading the right way and a red X when this is the wrong way."

"What do you mean 'the right way and the wrong way?' I thought I only had to share happisad memories," the woman replied.

"The you must share them fully. This can only be achieved by exiting happisad memories through the silver arch. The map will help find it."

The map was signaling that she was going off path and a white arrow was indicating where to go instead. It was leading her to the bedroom, away from her husband. There, she heard herself call her parents and tell them that she was pregnant, only it did not feel like her at all. It felt like she had left her body for a moment and was a stranger to this memory. The map drew a white dot, confirming she was back on track. The Nalhak warned that she was not allowed to try and change happisad memories. They had to stay authentic, however painful they were, because trying to relive memories that did not exist could be dangerous. She was also allowed to take breaks, when needed, if it became overwhelming and she felt the need to alter things. She simply had to say "stop" and the map would pause the happisad realm and take her to an area that would allow her to catch her breath. After she hung up, she cried in bed for a long time. The map did not signal anything because this had actually happened before. The overwhelming feeling of knowing that she was responsible for more than just herself had kicked in. Tears of pride, worry, and happiness were rolling down her cheeks. She took her time and eventually wiped her tears and got up.

When she opened the door of her bedroom, instead of the white corridors of her house, she found an old washed-out wall. It was her OBGYN office. She was reliving her first pregnancy appointment; her husband was with her and life was good. She remembered this very well. She was already in her second trimester and was starting to show a small baby bump. The OBGYN office waiting room was packed. It smelled horrible because even though it was in the fall, that day had been hotter than usual and most people had overdressed and were sweating heavily in the non-air-conditioned place. Some people simply had bad B.O., others smelled like fried food, while the rest probably had not even showered. This was a morning appointment after all and most had just gotten out of bed to come straight there. There was a constant beeping sound coming from a call placed on hold for too long. Hundreds of colorful pictures of babies were pinned to poster boards on the walls with thank you notes and holiday greetings. One day, she would be one of these patients sending family pictures, she thought. A TV screen attached on top of the wall in front of her was repeating the same contraception commercial over and over and over again. High pitch cartoon voices were coming out of a tablet a couple of toddlers were sharing. She felt dizzy and nauseous. Her pregnancy patience was handling this all poorly. She filled out the new patient paperwork while trying not to swear at the stinky people, the loud ones and the lazy office admin. When it was time for her appointment, she was welcomed by an old angry-looking nurse asking for a pee sample. She laughed inside. Not that it was a real achievement to anyone but, thanks to these thirty-nine weeks and the continuous pee sample requests, there was no more shy bladder or pee on the floor. Future work drug screens, event portable toilet and random campsite hole-in-the-ground type of bathroom could all suck it, she had become a proud, pissing champion.