Sisters [book one]

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Four

Mom hands me a map, a bottle of sun-cream and a wad of Australian dollars.

"I'm not going to need sun-cream," I say, handing the bottle back to her. "It's winter over there, remember?"

"Oh yeah." Mom breaks out into a smile, the first one I've seen her wear for a while.

I shove the other two items into my bag. My hands are shaking. Never once have I been out of the country without my parents, never once have I stepped out of the continent of North America and never once have I tracked down a total stranger, only going by a picture and a memory. If I were to be doing this for anybody other than my sister, I wouldn't be able to go through with it. But this is for Michele and I have to at least try if there's a slight chance of getting her memory back.

"Are you ready, honey?"

"I think so."

"Your plane takes off in three hours," Mom says. "Are you sure you have everything? You have money? Do you have a spare change of clothes?"

"Yes Mom," I say. Dad honks the car horn, my cue to leave. I hug Mom and walk out the door. I wave to Dad and he waves back. Unlike Mom, who's been in a state of doubt and stress since my decision to trek out to Australia by myself, Dad's excited about the whole thing.

"Hey," I say. I slide into the passenger seat and throw my rucksack into the back.

"Are you ready?" Dad says with a grin.

The click of my seatbelt answers for me. "Yep, all set."

Dad pulls away from the curb. The drive to the airport takes twenty-five minutes, according to Dad.

"We'll be talking about this for years, honey," Dad rattles off, almost to himself as I gaze out the window. "What if Michele's memory comes back? And all because of you?"

I blush. "I'm not getting my hopes up."

"You should be. I reckon this is it, Hales. I reckon that this trip marks the end of two crazy years and brings us back to normality. Michele's memory will be back again, you'll have gotten over your anxiety-"

I break out into a grin. A tingling sensation runs up and down my spine. Dad's right. Everything could change within the next forty-eight hours. I cross my fingers and I cross my toes because the end of the chaos starts with Michele's memory coming back.

It has to. Michele's memory has to return.

And I have a twenty-four hour flight to think about the consequences if it doesn't.

* *

When getting off the plane into a new country, it smells different. I don't know why, even though being in a different country shouldn't make a difference.

Yet at the same time, it does. Getting off the plane on the other side of the globe signifies that it should smell different - musky, humid, having been constantly filtered with people and a lack of fresh air.

Upon walking out of Melbourne Airport, the temperature's mild. A crowd of college students sweep me up. I realise I have nowhere to go and no way of getting there. Around me, people are talking in a particular twang that I've only heard in movies. But it's English, so it's okay.

There's a taxi. "Hey," I shout, waving. "Hey, here!"

I break out into a run. People are coming out of the airport from doors stretch as far as the eye can see.

I climb in. "Where to?" the driver asks.

I shake off my rucksack and shove my hands into its front pockets, in search of a crumpled up piece of paper. I don't read it out loud and instead I hand it over. I'm worried the man will laugh at me. Perhaps it's a fake address or doesn't exist anymore.