Amnesia

Kalas.

Memory zapped me.

Wake up, boy.

Do you remember me now?

"It's Grandfather. Your Grandfather. Please."

Huh...?

My brain pulsed in my head like a bird squeezing against its own eggshell. It felt like I had been hit. I had a feeling that I was all wrong up inside.

Did I hurt myself?

A thought occurred to me. Who is I?

Kalas.

My eyelids lifted; an old man hovered in my face. Light burned in the background. "Huh," I moaned again, writhing in the bed I was in. "Where am I?"

"You're in Mira now. We won the game — can you believe it? We won!"

"What game?" I asked in a daze.

"Ah, that's right. So you don't remember. I believed that if you were to only rest, then you would... Well. No matter. We were playing a game, son."

Son? Game? What?

I struggled to sit up, but my head hurt too much. I fell back as dead weight. The old man smiled at me, his whiskers bristling. I hate to say that I was scared. I didn't want to look at the old man anymore, and I felt like crying, but didn't want to cry, so I told myself I wouldn't and I didn't.

"Who are you?" I managed finally.

"I'm..." Pause. "...Your new friend. I found you. You were playing a game. You hit your head so you might not remember me, but I found you. Do you understand?"

I don't remember. Where are my folks? I don't remember anything. My... my... I strained in mental darkness, but I could only remember one thing. Tears stood on my cheeks even though I told myself there were none.

"I don't understand. What's going on? Where am I?"

"You're in our house, in Mira. You're my adopted grandson. You have a little brother, you know. Named... Cale. We were playing Make Believe and you accidentally hit your head."

Make Believe?

"Oh..." I said.

I thought about that for awhile, and then asked, "Was I pretending to be lost?"

"You were lost, yes... But you've been found. My boy, do you remember anything about before?"

Kalas.

"Kalas," I said timidly.

I wasn't used to strange people. He was a strange person, and I didn't want him near me; I wasn't used to strange people and I wanted my, my family, whoever, anyone familiar. Help me, I choked, and bit my tongue.

"It's okay," he said. "I'm here. And please listen to me... You should forget that name. Kalas. Do you know what your true name is?"

I guessed.

Kalas.

"No..."

No no no. It had to be!

"Your name is... Blue. It's the name I gave you when I found you with Cale; truly, you are my grandson, I have named you so."

Kalas is the only thing I remember, though. It's me. Me! Kalas!

The old man's wrinkles suddenly looked much, much deeper. His eyebrows drew down together, and he eased away from the bed. "Perhaps you would like to sleep some more, Blue. It will clear your mind."

But... I...

"Yes?"

What about my family? Won't they come looking for me?

"Boy... you have no parents."

Then...

I... I'm scared...

The old man looked hurt. My dear boy, I'm sorry, his eyes said. But he didn't. And then he turned around and departed from the room. I sat staring after him feeling like I had been shot in the forehead by a tranquilizer dart. Why me. Who's me. Me. I.

A baby sob came out of me. Don't abandon me! What is going on here? I wanted to be something familiar but a darkish feeling came to life in me and I panicked, I started acting on my own, acting like I didn't want to.

My legs were on fire beneath the blankets, and my face was soaked with tears. Everything was numb and I found myself beating my pillow and biting its corners. I started to cry hard and I hated me and I wiped my tears into the sheets. Who? I screamed, snot dribbling from my nose. Who? Who!? I sucked it back in fiercely, and sat shuddering for several minutes.

Then I put my head back on to the pillow and pretended as hard as I could that I hadn't cried. It was tough to think that, though, because my eyes were like hot marbles in my head. I stared at the ceiling, believing that a spinning vortex thing would open up and I would go floating in back to wherever I was supposed to be.

It didn't. So I closed my eyes. I figured that if I fell asleep I would wake up back in... back...

And I couldn't remember so long, tick-tocking minutes passed slowly and definitely not quickly. I figured that I was in a nightmare and since you can't sleep in your dreams, I wouldn't sleep until I woke up.

Never ever thought that I would, but I fell asleep anyway. I had a dream about something, but I couldn't remember what. Then I awoke.

The same ceiling. The same pillow, with all the snot dried on it. The same door. The same me.

I got out of bed and walked around the room. It was tiny. I found a little mirror on the wall by the door and looked into it.

Blue, I thought.

He calls me Blue because of my hair.

But my name is Kalas, I said out loud.

Is it really?

I shook my head and left the little room. The hallway was empty and I walked through it feeling awkward. It felt like I was walking backwards with my clothes inside-out. But I wasn't; I just felt funny. Soon I got to a large room with a table in it. A fire flickered in the fireplace across the room. I stared. The man and a kid were sitting at the table. The man cleared his throat.

Good morning, Blue.

"I'm called Kalas," I said. "Not Blue."

"But you've had amnesia, so you don't quite understand. Kalas is not your name..."

"That's the only thing I remember, though."

"Are you sure that it's not just someone else's name? Maybe you're confused."

Am I confused?

I thought for a moment. Was it possible for me to have messed up? After all, the old man was an adult. I couldn't remember any time when an adult didn't tell the truth. I couldn't remember...

Blue...

I guess... that name would—

—KALAS!

Before I knew it, the kid had crossed the length of the room and tackled me.

"Brudder! Good morning! Happy today for you!"

I peeled him off of me and frowned at him. He was pale with white hair and minty eyes. He panted, jumped, and laughed.

"Pee," I said instinctively.

"What?" started the old man.

"I have to pee." I blushed.

The little boy laughed and laughed, but the old man showed me to the toilet as the kid trailed behind. I went inside and locked the door on them. Tears were stinging in my eyes again, as I leaned against the wall, because the kid looked so happy and the old man still wore whiskers. But I swore that I wouldn't cry anymore and took three big gulps of air.

A couple minutes later I went back outside. I saw that across the room there was food laid out on the table. My stomach churned. I wanted to throw up.

The old man motioned me to breakfast. "Come eat, Blue. You must be hungry."

I nodded sullenly and trudged to the table.

"This is Cale," the old man explained, gesturing at the happy kid banging his fists on a plate. "And you can call me Grandfather."

I sat down in my chair. I squirmed. "And what is my name again?"

"Blue." Grandfather smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, my boy. You'll get used to living here. Why, Cale already has."

"Pee pee pee," sang Cale. He looked like he was making a snowman with the rice on his plate. I wondered vaguely how I knew what a snowman was. Someone must've told me.

I was silent. Images bumped around inside my head, but I didn't know what to make of them. There was something about... about a... I became frustrated at my brain. Stop being stupid, I said, and let me remember. But the darkness wouldn't part and fuzzy little pictures still floated by.

I bit my lip and felt kind of lost. I looked at Grandfather. Who am I?

"Blue. You're my grandson. I will protect you, and I will always be here to love you. You may be feeling a little confused right now, but please don't be frightened. Have patience."

I couldn't eat the food that day, but I got it.

I had patience.

For the next few weeks, I had patience.

Grandfather kept me inside the house for all that time. It's not like I wanted to go outside anyway; I didn't know what would be out there, so I was fine just playing with Cale. And Grandfather usually stayed inside, too, working on some project. He made me and Cale a cuckoo clock. Cale sat and watched it for hours, captivated, but I lay next to him and thought instead.

There was something familiar about Cale, I thought, like an old sock you find wedged between your bed and the wall. You've had the matching one for a while, but got tired of looking for its mate after a few days and just went sockless. I had found Cale now, and then there was the sock in my head. ...Or maybe I should say but there was a sock in my head. The sock was so fuzzy, old, and smelly that I couldn't remember Cale. It was called amnesia.

I was angry at amnesia.

I said this to Cale. I hate not knowing and it's dumb.

Why, Kalas? he asked. He always called me by my real name. I don't know why.

Because, I explained, it's stinky like you.

He looked kind of like he didn't understand, so he said "suh-tinky" and went back to watching the hands on the clock. There were still fifteen minutes before the birdie would come out again; I don't even know why he bothered. But his concentration was intense.

I was even more intense, because I never stopped waiting, and I never even blinked. Well, not never, but just for a long time. I had convinced myself that Cale and Grandfather were not real, and that I was imagining things. I believed I was crazy. I didn't tell Grandfather, but I was waiting for the dream to end. I was waiting for Kalas to come out.