A week had passed since her death. There was a lovely funeral. But now I stood in front of the building she had worked all her life, not prepared in the least bit for what I was going to have to do.
The building was a shack. A tiny, falling apart, wooden shack.
I knew my mother worked, but had no idea what she did, where she worked. I hadn’t had any clue what it looked like, and frankly, the shack was very disappointing.
The old tree beside the shack discarded leaves that made a satisfying crunch beneath my feet. The autumn wind blew in my face, carrying sweet hints of winter.
I placed a hand on the door's metal handle only to find it heavy with rust. If I was going to work here, work needed to be done.
What exactly was I going to do here? How did I find this place? The only answers existed in mother’s memories, and after my last adventure in one of them I was frightened to try it again.
I gathered up the courage to push open the door. It opened with a shriek, revealing a room much larger than I had expected. 360Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbI0EbNxOo7
The room was about as large as a hotel lobby, and while it looked from the outside like it was hideous, it was a masterpiece on the inside.
Luxurious sofas sat on lush carpet around a small coffee table near the door. Paintings hung on the light blue walls. Near the back a counter, an oven and microwave made a little kitchen area. And half of the room was dominated by two large, cozy beds.
A memory clouded my vision. I stood in the very same place, but the room was all empty except for the two beds. My grandfather’s voice boomed out. “Well, miss, would you like to take a seat on the bed? Then we can get started.”
Grandfather took a seat on the bed himself, and with a polite ask of consent, he gripped the lady’s temples and met her forehead with his own.
The moment they met contact, both people fell back, like there was an explosion of some sort. In grandfather’s mind, all of the lady’s memories joined his own. With a start, I realized he had taken all of her memories- and he was looking for the hidden ones. The memories that have a certain shroud or veil to them.
Then the memory stopped abruptly. My vision returned slowly, and I found myself face to face with a man who was gripping my forearm tightly.
I jumped back and yelled. “What are you doing?”
The man fell backwards onto one of the beds, chuckling. “Elise would’ve laughed when I did that.” At the sound of my mother’s name, both the man and I looked away.
The man muttered an apology, but I ignored it. “Who are you?”
“Elise didn’t tell you about me?”
“No. She didn’t tell me anything it seems.”
“Well, the name is Mark Grantel. Last year I lost some memories in an accident, and I came here. Course, I had no job, no money to pay for it, so your mom, being the lifesaver she is, offered me a job.” Mark lounged on the bed, arms behind his head and legs crossed. “She paid me a fourth of all the income, and though it doesn't sound like much it’s a lot to me.”
I noticed the tense he used when he said paid, and my stomach knotted angrily.
I shook my head.“Well, how did you know how to stop the-”
“Flashback? Your mom used to have three to four every week so it just came as a natural response.”
“Were you here before I went under?”
“Oh no. I walked in, saw you frozen and immediately woke you up. Those flashbacks are nothing but trouble. I guess you might learn how to do all the memory calling from them, but more often than not they’re really dangerous.”
“That’s what my mom warned me… before… you know.”
Mark grunted then sat up abruptly. “I’m bored. Let’s go.”360Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmPLBrF7Ay5
“Go where?”
Mark laughed quietly. “She really didn’t tell you anything did she?” Mark motioned to a door I hadn’t seen before behind one of the sofas. It was small, only about four feet tall, but had a sturdy lock. “Right behind that door is an… activity. It's different every day but it's always fun. Like last week, your mom and I went skydiving.” A smug look settled on his face.
“Wow… I never imagined my mother being the adventurous type.”
Mark grunted, but walked to the door, and knocked a careful pattern on the wood. With a click, the lock unbolted and the door smoothly opened. Mark crouched down and crawled through. Everything in front of his was pitch black, and as soon as he crawled through he was gone as well.
For a few seconds I contemplated running, once Mark began laughing again I gritted my teeth and leaned under the door.
The dark only lasted a split second before everything exploded with color. Not much color really, just gray stone, but it was much brighter than the darkness. Mark sat on the ground, smirking.
I rubbed my eyes, hoping it would ward off the unavoidable headache. “What is this room for anyway?”
Mark’s smirk faltered and he looked away. “Well, the memory calling can be really painful, so this was added as a stress reliever.”
“What do you mean painful?” I asked, but Mark was already sliding ahead. His gasp of delight echoed through the tunnel. “Looks like we’re going paddleboarding!”
I shook my head. “Umm- this is crazy- how about we start with something simpler?”
Mark sighed and crawled back to me. “Looks like your gonna get your wish.”360Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgpCmj1o3NV
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve got your first client.”
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