Page 10 of Begin Again
Not as pretty as hers.
As whose? Where did that come from?
Charlie clears her throat expectantly, ripping her gaze from mine. “Dinner is getting cold.”
“Right…Sorry.” I shake my head, clearing all thoughts of the last minute, and return to the task.
Drilling the board into place should have been easier with her help, but it did the opposite, making it more difficult. I continuously maneuver around her, finding the right angle to drill, putting us in some awkward positions.
When the final screw is in place, I take a step back and examine our work. It will do for now. I’ll need to secure theboard to the joists and then do the other door, but it will be easier without her help.
“Charlie?” I hear Joseph call in the distance without any issues, making me think she didn’t even try to yell for me like she said. “Xavier? You guys coming?”
“On our way, Dad!” Charlie yells back, turning back to me. “We better go. He made chili and hehateswaiting for his chili.”
“Go ahead.” I nod toward the house. “I need to finish these and then I’ll be right in.”
Her gaze narrows, and she looks like she is about to argue with me, but she doesn’t. She turns on her heel to begin the walk back to the house, but she stops…again. Now a few steps away, she turns back around and stuffs her hands in her pockets, not coming any closer. “Youreallydon’t remember anything?”
I laugh. “I really don’t remember anything.”
“How is that possible? I mean, how do you just wake up with no recollection of who you are?”
“One of the world’s greatest mysteries, I suppose.”
Charlie huffs and I can tell she wants to ask me more, but she swallows whatever question sits on the tip of her tongue.
When she’s finally gone my shoulders fall with a deep sigh. I wish I had the answers she’s looking for, the ones I’m looking for, but unfortunately…I don’t. I would love to remember something (anything) because that would mean I get to go home. I’m grateful to Joseph for giving me a warm bed, food, and something to keep my head and hands busy—to keep my mind off the situation—but there’s a yearning deep in my soul for the life waiting on the other side of that smoke wall clouding my mind.
CHAPTER FOUR
August 2028
FOUR MONTHS. ONE HUNDRED and twenty-three days. That’s how many mornings I’ve woken up at Blackwood Ranch. How do I know? I’ve kept a running tally in the notebook on the desk in my room. The top margin of the very first page is covered in little tally marks for every day I’ve been here. Every day I haven’t remembered who I am. Every day no one has come looking for me.
Sometimes when I drive into town, I stop by the police station and check in with Chief Sloan to see if there are any updates, but it’s the same answer every time: “Sorry, kid. Nothin’s coming in yet.” Which he usually follows up with, “I’m sure somethin’ll turn up eventually.”
Well, eventually hasn’t happened yet and I’m starting to lose hope that it ever will. I wonder if my few “memories”—if you can even call them that—are memories at all. Or maybe they are, but from a life I no longer have the privilege of knowing. Maybe an ex-girlfriend? A brother I no longer speak to? Or maybe they’re dreams my mind has created to give me a sense of false hope for something that doesn’t exist at all.
The sun beats down on the open riding arena a few hundred yards from the house, not far from the barn. The back left corner of the large, fenced circle is shaded by a patch of treesthat extend out from the wilderness like a vein, where Joseph and Melody Jones watch Charlie give Melody’s daughter a riding lesson. It’s something Charlie started about two months ago at her father’s request, but she only offers lessons to a few select students. She didn’t seem happy when Joseph brought up the idea, but it wasn’t my place to ask questions. I thought it seemed like an odd request, Charlie barely spent time in or near the barn unless she was mucking stalls—an observation I’d never made until she was forced to spend time in the barn with her students.
Joseph leans against the steel pipe fence, one boot up on the bottom rung, as he squints against the bright August sun. Melody sits at the picnic table, dressed in clothes that make her look like she took a wrong turn and ended up at a farm instead of brunch at the country club. I’m surprised she even sits on the picnic table, not afraid that she might get something on the expensive-looking pants.
As I get closer, I hear mumbled instructions from Charlie who stands in the middle of the arena. She holds a long rope allowing her to maintain some control while she gives the girl a chance to do it herself as the horse prances in a circle.
“Oh, hello, Xavier!” Joseph says, turning toward me. “Mel, you met Xavier yet?”
“Yes, we met last time.” Melody smiles, her smile ghostly white against the stain on her lips. “Nice to see you again, Xavier.”
“Mrs. Jones,” I say with a nod. “Jenny’s looking good out there.”
“Isn’t she?” A look of pride crosses her features when she glances back at her daughter. “Charlie’s lessons have been doing wonders!”
Joseph shakes his head. “I tried to tell her she needed to do this a while ago, but that girl is stubborn as a damn mule.”
“Well, I’m glad you finally convinced her, Joe. Did I tell you Jenny wants to get into barrel racing like Charlie?”
“Charlie used to race?” I ask. The girl who will barely even go near one of the horses used to barrel race? That doesn’t seem likely.
