'A Forgetful Day'

Chapter 3
Night

I bring my hands down hard and send a wave of warm soapy water sloshing over the side of the bathtub. There is sharp shout from outside, and I stop my frolicking, clamber out and begin toweling off. Soon I join Mum in the kitchen, and we talk excitedly about all the goals I scored this afternoon. I am so hungry that I feel I have stones in my stomach.

A man walks in, and Mum calls out to him adoringly. With a start, I realize that I have been walking around the house in nothing but a pair of blue striped underwear, and I feel an urgent need to cover myself. The man tousles my hair, tweaks my nose and tickles my exposed body. I giggle uncontrollably, his face is familiar, and then abruptly I recognize him: he is my doctor! A chill swirls over my body like a blast of icy wind, and Mum asks why I am staring at Dad like that. Now I am completely flummoxed, for while I remember that my Dad is a doctor, I do not remember that this doctor is my Dad.

A large slobbery pizza appears on the table under a coil of rising steam. It bulges with tender slices of ham and succulent cubes of pineapple. I am captivated, I begin to stuff whole oozing slices contently into my mouth. My hands and mouth are such a mess, but I don’t care.

The adults are talking with great animation. Mum points over in my direction and says she wants to paint an oil portrait of the Manneken-Pis with me as the model. I do not know what that is, but I want to please her and ask how I should pose. They double over with laughter, I am mystified and a trifle annoyed. Then Mum places a dish of chocolate fudge ice cream in front of me, which I inhale with enthusiasm. I am in seventh heaven!

Soon I am feeling uncomfortably full but pleasantly satisfied. I want to read my book again but cannot remember where I left it. I wander into my room and start searching my drawers and wardrobe. The book isn’t there, but none of my things are there either. I am anxious, where are my things? I call out to Mum, and she gently guides me to another room. There is a small cot in the corner, but the colorful wooden train set in the center seizes my attention and draws me into the room like a whirlwind.

I cannot remember how long I spend rearranging the tracks, setting up the carriages and staging violent collisions. But Mum comes in and announces it is my bedtime. I am surly and uncooperative, so she turns out the light and orders me into bed.

I feel so terribly alone as Mum’s footsteps fade away. The deep, inky black is menacing, so I get up and crack open the door, allowing a thin filament of light from the hallway to wrap around my room.

My body aches, I toss and turn, restless, unable to sleep. I feel as if the heavy cot is pressing up against me. Then I hear alien sounds drifting down from the hallway, deep guttural groaning, bedsprings creaking, a sharp ecstatic cry.

A horrible, awful sensation wells up inside of me, it is very physical, something like an icy bolt down my spine. I am now certain there is something really, really important that I’m forgetting. I yank myself out of bed, scramble thru the door and yell out Elysa’s name, my eyes bleary in the hallway light.

She arrives, stumbling and disheveled. I struggle with what to say, but before I can get my words out, a warm and damp sensation ripples through my pajama pants. I look down, there is a darkening patch, and droplets falling silently onto the wood panel floor.

I feel so ashamed, I reach out my arms, and Mommy hoists me up and carries me to the bathroom. The pants are discarded, there is the flowery scent of powder, and I feel the crinkle of plastic press around my waist. I cling hard to Mommy for security, I am scared, I do not want her to leave my side again. She cradles me back to my bed and kisses me tenderly. I try one more time to remember what was the very important thing that I am forgetting, but I am drowsy and warm inside Mommy’s embrace, and the room begins to fade. It is okay, I will ask her tomorrow. Mommy will help me remember. She always does.