Ib let him keep the handkerchief.
It wasn't as though she needed it, bloodied as it was, and seeing as it had just helped her and Garry remember each other she actually felt better about it being in her friend's possession instead of hers. After all, what if he started to forget again and needed a reminder?
"What makes you'd think I'd forget again?" he asked when she voiced her worry. Ib gave him a look and he smiled softly. "Listen dear, I don't intend to forget anything from today again...as much as I might like to, with some things." Garry shuddered. Ib could sympathize. "It's been quite the experience. Life-changing, probably. Too early to tell."
Ib shuffled her feet. "I just want you to keep it, just in case. I don't want you to forget about me. 'Cause my mom says when you don't see someone for a long time, if you never see them again, then you start to lose things about them." Her fingers curled around the lemon candy in her pocket. "You forget what their face looks like, what they sound like, what you did together. Even their name. Eventually they're just gone."
"Never see them again?" Garry looked aghast. "Ib, why on earth would you think we're never going to see each other again?"
"You were saying goodbye just now," she muttered.
"Goodbye doesn't mean forever," he told her. "Here, how about this..."
Garry pulled a small piece of paper and a stubby pencil out of his pocket and scribbled something down on it. When he handed it back to Ib, she saw it was in fact a napkin stained with a ring of coffee and something strangely pink. In the center was a messily-scrawled number.
"That's my telephone number," he said. "If you ever need anything or just want to talk, you can call it. If you need me specifically, just say so and I'll come see you, alright?"
Her throat feeling strangely thick, Ib nodded before throwing herself at Garry and wrapping her arms tightly around his waist.
"See you later," she muttered into his coat. He smelled like smoke and old books. "Promise."
He hugged her back. "I promise."
She heard her mother (her real mother, this time) call her name and they broke apart. With a small wave and a hesitant smile, she turned away from Garry and went back to her parents.
In the car riding back home, Ib's mother spoke of nothing but the exhibit and her desire to return to see the rest.
"It's such a big area," she said, "there's surely more to be seen, don't you think? There's no way we could have covered it all today." She turned and smiled at her daughter in the backseat. "What did you think, Ib? Did you like Guertena? Would you like to go back?"
Ib twisted her hands together on her lap. No, she had not liked Guertena. Going back was something unthinkable.
"No," she said. "You can go, but I'd like to stay home next time. It was boring."