CHAPTER THREE
Three weeks after he’d arrived on the Remington colony, Dr. Calloway came into his room, but he didn’t sit down in his usual chair. He had the air of someone with a big revelation, which made Joshua nervous. He knew he couldn’t stay in the hospital forever; they must have made a decision about him.
“I have some good news for you.”
Joshua leaned back against the window. “Okay.”
“Since they can’t prove you’re a threat, they’ve decided you aren’t one.”
That was good, he supposed, but he had nowhere to go. It wasn’t anyone’s responsibility to take care of him and they had only kept him at the hospital because they wanted to be sure he posed no danger.
“Okay,” he said again, feeling anxiety creep in.
“We’re taking you to an agency home for a while. You can enroll in school and start a new life. Getting into a regular routine may help bring your memories back. Until then you’ll still see me every week.”
He was glad he was getting out of the hospital and that Dr. Calloway was going to keep working with him. He didn’t want to resign himself to having no past.
The term “agency” was a euphemism for orphanage, he discovered. He didn’t think of himself that way, but it was an apt description of who he was, especially without any memories.
The two-story yellow house with the big yard was almost like a regular home, except it had a dining hall for the forty-some children and a main office. Several house parents lived there as well, and he liked most of them, except for one couple who obviously worked there for the money, not the kids. They weren’t mean, they just didn’t have a lot of patience, and they didn’t develop any real bonds with their charges.
Joshua had no trouble settling into the house routine, although he was the only one his age. All the other kids were a lot younger. At least it meant he got his own bedroom.
On the second week, he came home from school and stepped through the door to find one of the younger girls sitting stiffly on the couch. She wore a pretty lavender dress, her blond hair done up in curls. She was about seven, and her eyes looked up at the door with such eagerness that he glanced behind him to see if anyone else was there.
“Hi, Joshua,” she said, her smile fading, and her eyes staying trance-like on his gaze. The kids were kind about his red eyes, but they couldn’t hide their fascination.
Closing the door behind him he asked, “Are you waiting for someone?” He regretted not remembering her name, but there were so many kids. He hoped she didn’t notice.
She looked down at her hands as she twisted them. “A mom and dad are coming to talk to me.”
She didn’t elaborate, but he understood all too well. Every child here had one wish that permeated the very air they breathed.
“Good luck.”
Her smile trembled. “Thanks.”
Going up the stairs, his chest felt tight. He understood how much she wanted to belong. He didn’t know anything about his past, but being alone was a feeling he didn’t like. It gnawed at him like a constant ache, even when he tried to distract himself with school, it was always there. It amazed him that he could be surrounded by people, yet still feel as if he weren’t connected to them. It was puzzling but very real.
He went to his room and closed the door. The agency had given him a cellband when he’d arrived, though it was monitored and he couldn’t access any net portal they deemed inappropriate for children. It didn’t take him long to find Mrs. West’s contact information. He sent her a simple message asking how Caina was doing.
Her answer came back quickly.
Caina is fine, thanks for asking! Her finger has healed nicely. How are you doing?
I’m doing good. School is great and I’m doing well in my classes.
How is the memory coming along?
Nothing new, but that’s okay.
Anything from family or friends? Hope you don’t mind my asking.
They haven’t found anything, unfortunately.
He tried to make it sound like he didn’t care. There wasn’t anything she could do about it and he didn’t want them feeling sorry for him.
Would you like to come to dinner at our house sometime?
The simple offer touched him.
Sure, that would be nice.
We can do it on Thursday, if you’re available.
Thursday is great. Thank you! Tell Caina I said hi.
Will do! We’ll pick you up at 6:00.
He counted down the days to the dinner with Mr. and Mrs. West and their daughter. He was not sure, but maybe he could count them as friends.
The evening arrived, and he found himself downstairs on the couch where he’d seen the other little girl waiting. He privately called it the Desperate Waiting Couch. He had done some research on the Wests and found out Mr. West was the premier for the Remington Colony.
Premiers acted as managers under the planet’s government. They were elected by a board, and some of them were heavily invested financially in their colonies. Mr. West owned a lot of businesses on the colony and he’d been appointed last year. Joshua could only guess that he was fairly important.
A knock came at the door, and he jumped up to get it.
A distinguished, thin man with cool blue eyes stood at the door. He wore crisp clothing and a casual jacket. There was an air of confidence about him, his back straight, his gaze direct. He did not look away or appear startled as most strangers did when they saw Joshua’s eyes.
Thinking it was some agency administrator, Joshua asked politely, “Can I help you?”
The man smiled, a small wry gesture, and held out his hand. “Hello, Joshua. I’m Stewart West. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
A rush of embarrassment flooded over him and Joshua held out his hand, hoping it wasn’t sweaty. “I’m sorry sir, I didn’t recognize you. It’s so nice to meet you, too. Thank you for inviting me to your home.”
Though small-boned, the man’s handshake was firm. “Are you ready to go?”
“Yes, sir.”
They went to the landing pad where a sleek, expensive looking transporter waited.
When Joshua had told the psychologist about the dinner invitation, Dr. Calloway had given him the horribly predictable “just be yourself” speech. Joshua would love to be himself if he knew who he was.
Joshua got in the transporter, clasping his hands in his lap at first, and then attempting to put them in his pockets, and then casually resting one arm on the window as if his body belonged to someone else and he had no idea what to do with his limbs.
As they drove out of the valley, both of them were quiet, though Mr. West seemed at home with the silence. In fact, everything about him was calm and deliberate, from his quiet voice to the unhurried way he drove. When the buildings disappeared and they were out in the hills and meadows, Mr. West said, “My wife instructed us not to ask about the crash that brought you here.”
Joshua looked over at him, wary, until he saw a mischievous twinkle in Mr. West’s eyes as he continued, “But of course that’s the story we all want to hear. We’re a little curious.”
Joshua relaxed. “That’s okay. There isn’t much for me to tell. I think I learned more from the news reports than being in it.”
“They say it came in fast and corrected at the last minute. Broke it in half—somewhat dramatic.”
“Yeah, it was kind of a mess, from what I read.”
“So you still have some amnesia? If I’m being too intrusive you can just tell me.”
Joshua let himself smile. “No, you’re fine. Yes, I still have amnesia so I can’t really tell you anything. There’s nothing to be intrusive about, I guess.”
Mr. West laughed drily. “I suppose you’re right.”
The autumn evening faded as they drove, the cold sunset shrouding the valley in a purple light. They turned into a narrow road lined with Fastidiously manicured trees. There were gardens, and a fountain illuminated by colored lights, the water cascading in greens and blues down a stone sculpture. Again, that feeling of the unfamiliar came over him. This was beauty he was sure he had not seen before, even in memories he couldn’t reach.
A large house appeared at the end of the road, columns rising and tall windows with decorative panes looking out over a stone courtyard. He wanted to say it was beautiful but didn’t want to seem as if he were in awe.
Mr. West opened the large front door and they went into an opulent foyer. A sparkling chandelier lit the space with a warm glow.
“My wife and Caina are in the kitchen. I’ll show you the way,” Mr. West said.
Walking through the richly paneled hallway, they passed high-ceilinged rooms with elegant furniture. They entered a large kitchen with a lot of white oak cabinets and dark granite counters. He recognized some of the appliances built into the wall, though others were unknown to him. A few plants hung from the rounded arch that framed the whole room. Mrs. West turned at her husband’s greeting, her smile instantly easing some of Joshua’s anxiety.
“Hello, Joshua! It’s so good to see you!”
Caina stood at the counter, wearing an asymmetrical dress that crisscrossed its way around her thin body. Joshua was not particularly aware of current dress styles, but he guessed she was fairly trendy.
“Hi,” she said, meeting his gaze. “How’s life out of the hospital?”
“Pretty good. How’s your cut?”
She waved her hand. “Healed.”
He eyed the knife and raised an eyebrow at her. “Should you be using a knife?”
“Ha! Yes, I’m fine.”
He took one of the knives and set a tomato on the cutting board. “I guess I’ll help you just to make sure. So how do you want these cut?”
“In wedges. I can show you how if you’ve never done it.”
He handed the knife back to her and she seemed happy to be in charge. Also, he had no idea how to cut a tomato.
He turned out to be a quick learner, so she kept giving him things to chop.
At the dinner table, he didn’t put as much on his plate as he usually did, taking his cues from the rest of them. He could have eaten much more. The salad had a tangy dressing that was both refreshing and satisfying, and the vegetable lasagna had a buttery, mellow cheese that made his mouth water.
“So where do you think you’re from?” Caina asked as she poked a fork in the layered pasta.
Mrs. West glanced over at her, but she seemed to miss the warning.
Joshua answered, “Well, since I seem to know nothing about this colony, not here. I don’t know. I can’t even guess.”
“You still don’t remember anything?”
He shook his head. “I don’t. Just after the crash.”
“School stuff?”
“I have general knowledge, just not important details about myself. Or how to cut tomatoes, apparently.”
“Your family? First birthday? Your friends?” Caina asked.
He moved his food around on his plate. “No, I wish.”
Mrs. West interjected, “I think Dr. Calloway’s conclusion is to just relax about it, and it will come later.”
“Pretty much,” Joshua agreed.
“How do you like school so far?” Mr. West asked.
Joshua answered the neutral question with relief.
“It’s good. I like it.” Belatedly, he realized neutral questions didn’t offer much in the way of conversation.
He waited for Caina to ask him another probing question, but she wasn’t paying attention. She was looking down at her wrist, probably reading a text from a friend. Mrs. West tapped her daughter’s arm with a slight frown and Caina lifted her head.
Mrs. West asked about the “agency”, politely avoiding the term orphanage, and Joshua filled in the conversation with stories of the younger children and what it was like to share a house with so many kids. He managed to be semi-entertaining, but Caina had stopped asking questions. Her mouth was solemn, and when she smiled at one of Johsua’s anecdotes, it was different, not as bright.
If her parents noticed, they kept it to themselves. Mrs. West suggested they go into the living room for dessert and a movie.
Mr. and Mrs. West sat together, with Caina next to them. Joshua sat on the end, which put Caina in the middle. They dimmed the lights and passed around bowls of ice cream, settling in on the couch.
It was a light family storyline, which he didn’t mind, although he found from the movies he’d seen at the agency home that he preferred more action. During a suspenseful section of the movie, he happened to look over at Caina. In the dark, a small tear ran down her cheek. The scene was not tender or even remotely touching, so he knew it wasn’t the movie.
Acting on a suspicion that had been growing since she stopped talking at dinner, in the dim light of the screen he reached out to take her wrist. He turned her wrist to look at her cell band. She looked over at him, startled, but didn’t pull away. He looked back at her and then scrolled through her messages. She didn’t stop him, though more tears began to fall. He found what he was looking for. A hot rush of anger coursed through him, and he wanted to erase the messages and punch the sender, or forget the messages and just punch the sender. He shared a long look with her before she turned away.
By the end of the movie she’d wiped her tears and put on at least a semblance of cheerfulness.
Mr. West got ready to drive Joshua home, and Mrs. West went to find his jacket. Joshua was alone with Caina in the foyer, though he knew it wasn’t for long.
She stared out the window while they waited for her parents to return.
“Caina,” he said, low enough so that her parents wouldn’t hear from the other rooms.
She looked at him, her eyes filling with tears.
“Whoever wrote that about you needs a serious….” he stopped to revise the profanity that came to mind. “Are they from school?”
She nodded mutely. Tears poured down her face now and he could see her struggling to keep her chest from heaving. Her quiet courage tore at him and he wanted to punch someone again. He leaned down. “I know what it’s like.”
She shook her head at him as if to deny that he did. Then she ran to the stairs without looking back.
On the way home, though he enjoyed his conversation with Mr. West, he kept thinking about Caina, and how much he wanted to fix her problem for her. He considered telling Mr. West, but he didn’t want to jump in where he didn’t belong.
He realized as he went to bed that night how little he cared about his own loneliness now. He was taunted at school for his eyes sometimes, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. Caina was just a twelve-year-old girl who probably believed everything someone said to her. He fervently wished he went to her school, but he was pretty sure her school didn’t have “displaced children”. It was probably a private school with a waiting list.
The next week the Wests invited him over again, though this time it was for lunch and a trip to an indoor water park. He began to realize that though they might not know everything about the kids picking on their daughter, they understood she felt alone. They weren’t fostering a friendship with him only because they felt sorry for him; it was for her as well.
They picked him up at Dr. Calloway’s office after his weekly appointment. He got in the transport and sat next to Caina in the backseat.
She sat cross-legged, playing a vid game. She looked up when he got in and handed him a second vid game player. “I’m probably going to beat you,” she warned.
He took the game and said in a dead, slightly threatening voice, “We’ll see.”
She did beat him, the first time, but then he caught on. He beat her once and then let her have the rest, making the score close so she couldn’t guess that he was letting her win.
“I told you,” she said after her third win.
“I bow to your superiority,” he confessed, smiling at her.
Her eyes met his and she held his gaze. He waited, wondering what she was thinking. “I still like your eyes,” she said.
“Ditto.”
She laughed.
He put his fingers on her wrist and turned it over. She stopped laughing and her eyes darted over to her parents in the front seat. He scrolled through her messages and shook his head. “Why don’t you let me answer these?” he asked.
“No,” she whispered, her face going pale.
His fingers quickly moved to make up a username. “Like?” he asked.
She leaned over to read what he’d written. “DarkRed. Nice.”
He offered a response to the taunts in her messages, careful to avoid cruelty, yet annoying enough to catch their attention. Someone was paying attention because they jumped at him.
You’re probably as ugly as Caina.
He smirked. Twelve-year-olds. Thank you.
She’s a little snot that nobody cares about. She sits alone at lunch—so sad.
.Caina looked away, but not before he saw her flush red. Did she sit alone at lunch? She probably didn’t want him to know, worried he would think less of her. Nothing could be further from the truth.
She’s not alone now, he wrote.
Are you another ugly friend with no social life too?
Another? You mean she has more than one? I’m jealous. I thought I was her only ugly friend.
All her friends are ugly, just like her.
Being Caina’s ugly friend has to be an upgrade from being yours.
Why don’t you shut up? I wasn’t messaging you!
Things devolved into pissed off swearing which pleased him immensely. He closed out the messages when they stopped answering.
She sighed. “I wish I could answer back like that.”
“Well, you can’t, and the reason you can’t is because you care, and they know how to hurt you. So do me a favor and don’t read these. It’s what they want.”
She shrugged and looked out the window. He pulled at her wrist until she turned back to him.
“Okay?”
She whispered, her eyes filling with tears. “They send them all the time. I can’t help it.”
“Trust me?”
She nodded.
He took the cell band off her wrist. “This is gone today. It’s just your mom and dad and me, your ridiculously tall sidekick with the freaky eyes. Totally at your beck and call. Unless I want to kick your butt at something.”
She smiled for real this time. “Good luck with that.”
“Also, since I have amnesia, I don’t know about water parks. You’ll have to show me around.”
Her eyes sparked with interest. As usual, she liked being in charge. “Maybe.”
She handed him the vid game. “If you win I’ll show you around. If you don’t, you’ll be stuck in the locker room wondering where the rest of us are.”
He took it. “You know I lose this game most of the time.”
“Enjoy the locker room then.”
When they arrived they all changed and went to the first pool. It was so huge it looked like a pond, with some of the water slides several stories high.
“Whoa,” he said, looking up at it all.
Mr. West wore a water shirt and swimming trunks that accentuated his spindly legs. Mrs. West wore a mom bathing suit that somehow looked chic on her round figure. “I’m not going on those,” she said, pointing up at the taller slides.
Caina grabbed Joshua’s arm. “Joshua is. He can’t wait.”
He smirked down at her. “You sound scared.”
“I like heights. Maybe you’re scared.”
“No, that’s excitement.”
At the top of the tallest slide, he felt a shiver of fear or common sense. He wondered how many accidents the park had. Caina shoved him down before he could think about it for too long. He howled on the way down, slipping through turns and screaming though loops until he shot out at the end, flying into the water. Caina landed nearby, screaming her head off.
They spent the day laughing at nothing and everything until they were completely exhausted. That night when her parents dropped him off at the agency home, he put a hand over her wrist before he got out of the car. “No reading.”
Sleepy, she smiled over at him. “Okay.”
He began to wonder what it would be like to be in the West family. He liked how Mrs. West asked about what he ate at the agency home and how Mr. West asked about his grades. It was comforting somehow.
Over the next few months, he became a regular at their house. Caina talked to him every day now, and he found himself depending on her. She’d become part of his life and a distraction from all the questions he couldn’t answer about himself.
One snowy afternoon, Mr. West picked him up from the agency home to go on a ski trip. Joshua hopped in the car, his canvas shoes damp from the snow and his jacket a little too light for the cold, but he was happy to go with them.
Mr. West eyed the thin coat as Joshua closed the door and folded his arms around his chest, the warmth of the transport seeping into him.
“Thanks for the invitation,” Joshua said. His conversations always began with some kind of thank you.
“Oh, of course. Thank you for joining us. We were thinking of getting some extra gear for the trip. Would you mind if we stopped by a supply depot to pick up a few things?”
“No, that’s fine,” Joshua said. He liked shopping, something that he didn’t get to do without the Wests because he had no credits, and he hadn’t acquired a skill certification yet for a job.
The giant supply depot was one of the largest buildings in the valley, it’s brightly lit colors glowing in the snowfall. They parked their transport in a parking conveyor that picked up their transport and moved it onto a conveyor belt. They took the elevator up to the depot levels. Joshua had no idea what kind of gear Mr. West was talking about, but they ended up at the outerwear section. Standing in the coat racks, Mr. West asked what size Joshua wore.
“Oh, that’s not necessary. I have a coat,” Joshua said.
“I know, but where we’re going you’ll need something warmer, and we wouldn’t want to be responsible for damaging the coat you already have.”
Joshua had already accepted numerous expensive items from the Wests, but he tried not to take too much from them. He also realized they were pretty determined to help him out if they saw a need, and they were good at coming up with excuses for why they needed to get him things.
“Okay,” he conceded.
Joshua found one that he liked and slipped off his thinner coat to put his arms in the sleeves of the new one. “Feels nice,” he said.
“Looks good on you.”
“Thanks,” Joshua said, giving it one last admiring look in the mirror before taking it off.
“Joshua, I hope you don’t mind,” Mr. West said. “But I did some research into your background. I know we asked you about it some time ago.”
His heart jumped. He’d wondered if Mrs. West had forgotten her promise to help him find his past life. Apparently they hadn’t.
“No, it’s okay. There probably wasn’t much to go on.”
Mr. West gave a dry smile. “There wasn’t. I waited to talk to you about it because I wanted to have some information.”
Joshua hadn’t felt hope in a long time. It was a peculiar sensation, lifting his mood instantly.
“I started with the crash and then any details about you that might give me clues.”
They paused the conversation to purchase the coat at a kiosk and went back to the parking garage to pick up the transport. Once they were seated inside, Mr. West continued his conversation.
“The data from the crash indicated that you’d definitely come from another system, but that’s all I could tell. You aren’t from around here, which I’m sure you’ve suspected.”
“I have no memories of anything like this planet,” Joshua agreed.
“I researched the color of your eyes, since that is a definite clue from your past. I didn’t know if you altered them on purpose or if you were born with them, but going on the assumption you were born with them, I researched genetic similarities, but couldn’t find anything that made sense. Albinism affects all aspects of pigmentation, not just eye colors. So I looked at places where altering eye colors is common, and I looked at different planetary environments that might have affected the color.”
Joshua had wondered the same things. “I could have altered them myself, but honestly I don’t know why I would do that, unless maybe it was a trend.”
“That’s what I thought. There are quite a few places, so I checked them out for any missing persons reports. Two colonies have a fair contingent of young people where red is the dominant alteration choice.”
Mr. West pulled a small rolled up screen from his pocket and rolled it out to show Joshua the pictures.
The young teens in the picture all had red eyes, so that could be where he was from, he supposed, though some information would have popped up by now. “Did you find anything in the missing persons list?”
“No DNA matches, I’m afraid, but that doesn’t mean we should stop checking. The other possibility was the environmental effect on the color of your eyes, but any environments that affect iris pigment were harsh environments with small populations that are carefully tracked. If you left a place like that, someone would have noticed.” He paused and Joshua waited, hoping there was more. “I’m sorry, Joshua. I wanted to have some positive news, but I haven’t found anything yet. I’ll keep trying.”
Emotions crashed into him—disappointment, frustration and hopelessness. He hadn’t cried since the crash, not when he’d been alone in the hospital or the agency. He looked out the window as his eyes watered, betraying the loneliness he tried so hard to hide. His past was lost somewhere in the universe, along with anyone he had ever known.
The transport slowed and stopped, and Joshua felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. “We’ll keep searching, but we can do it together.”
Joshua wiped his eyes. “Yeah, I know. Thanks for doing all that. That was nice.”
“Well, I did it because I care, Joshua, not just to be nice. You deserve better.”
Touched, Joshua only nodded. A lot of people were nice to him, but there was a difference between being nice and caring. If someone was nice to you, it was because they just wanted to be a good person; you didn’t have to matter to them. If someone cared about you, it meant you mattered.
“I’d like to ask you a favor,” Mr. West said. “I did the research because I wanted to help you, and I’ll keep doing that, but I—we—wanted to offer you something else. You don’t have to say yes. I’m asking you when it’s just you and me so you can say no if you want.”
Joshua’s heart hammered in his chest though he didn’t quite know why.
“We want to ask if you would be in our family. We’d like to adopt you as our son, and Caina said she would love to have you as a brother. If you wanted.”
For a moment he didn’t feel anything but shock, but then a warm happiness filled his chest, flooding through his body and making him light-headed. “Are you sure?” he asked, hardly able to believe it.
Stewart West laughed. “Yes, very. We can’t wait to have you, if you want.”
He couldn’t say a word, paralyzed by the onslaught of happiness and the weight of his yearning to belong. He dropped his head to his knees, covering his face with his arms as he cried, so overwhelmed with happiness and relief that he couldn’t move.
“Is that a yes?” Mr. West asked.
He kept his face hidden, the tears falling down his face. “Yeah.”
Stewart West put his arms around him and drew him in a tight, wiry hug. It was a few moments before Joshua realized Mr. West was crying, too. When could he call him dad? He would have a mom. And a little sister. He would have a home, and a bed that didn’t belong to anyone else. He would be a West, wouldn’t he? Joshua West.
“Oh, man,” Joshua said, but he still couldn’t talk. He tried anyway, his voice cracking. “I’m really happy. This is like Christmas. Not that I remember what that’s like…but you know what I mean.”
“We’ll have lots of those. Let’s go tell the girls. They’re about to explode waiting for you.”
Joshua wiped his eyes, laughing.
When they pulled up to the big house the doors flung open and Caina ran out to the transport. “You said yes, didn’t you?” she said, dancing on her toes, her green eyes huge.
“Of course.” He was going to say something sarcastic but his emotions got the better of him and his eyes teared up again. She threw her arms around his neck, her face scrunching up so hard as she cried on him that he was a little worried, but he guessed she was probably o