this.”
He didn’t expand on how he’d expected kids with selective and engineered memory loss to act however, so Danial just nodded back, feeling daft. Azra was poking the fire pit, smiling to herself.
“Well done your boy!” he said in a cheery fashion and the man nodded happily before leaving. He started walking back towards the pool and then his path curved off, towards the van selling alcohol. Danial stopped watching.
Would having the memory of approaching the object of his fear help the boy once restored?
His girls had no phobias to overcome, although that was often a useful use of the technique. If only it would help them rethink their attitude towards each other.
“The girls are doing well.” He said to Azra. The twins stood in one corner of the pool, throwing one of the balls back and forth with four other children.
“Not for much longer.” she noted, indicating the face of his watch. Sure enough, the whistle blew some moments later and the counsellor rounded the children back up. He was a larger man, with blond hair and square glasses, dressed in a casual light blue t-shirt. A green whistle dangled from his neck.
“Okay now kids, out you come!” He called them, clapping his large palms together. It took a few attempts for them to listen and one boy dived underwater to hide. He shot up gasping half a minute later and the counsellor motioned him out with the rest.
The twins climbed out together, abandoning the ball to bob at the side of the pool. The counsellor directed them to a pile of plain towels on a folding table to one side and they grabbed one each, wrapping them round dripping shoulders.
Once draped in the white towels, the counsellor quizzed them again. His charges aligned in front of him, a row of soggy ghosts. “So, your best guesses please!”
“I’m Nina!” Laurel cried out and Azra burst out laughing, struggling to keep quiet. Luckily they were far enough back that none of the children had noticed.
Nina argued, quite rightly “No, I’m Nina!”
“Why does no-one want to be Laurel?” Danial whispered to his partner, as the counsellor asked for more guesses. He didn’t remember some of their names, although he did note that the kid with glasses got his right. The counsellor never confirmed nor denied the claims, smiling and nodding at each one. He began picking up items from the table, and asking them questions about each one. About their expectations of what kind of person would have such a thing, and why.
“My fault.” Azra whispered back, as she kept one eye on the coal and flames of the fire pit. She tapped the tongs against her hip and he didn’t think she noticed the patches of char left behind. “I put Nina's karate in the prompts. She does sound much cooler!”
“But I put down piano for Laurel!” Danial argued.
“Doesn’t sound so good to this crowd though!” Azra said. She was watching the children intently, a small smile on her lips.
The counsellor brought the conversation to an end by clapping his hands. Danial was surprised he didn’t jump on the spot.
“Right, off you go - get suited up and back here in five!”
The children ran towards the two large tents pitched some metres away for changing, clutching their towels across themselves. His two girls raced in the centre of the group, still hand in hand and dripping across the grass.
The laughing children faded into the background, and the sound of the adults singing took greater prominence. Not an improvement. The first song was finished, but they seemed to have an endless stock.
“It’s a cult!” Danial muttered. Azra shot him a rather sharp glance. Some schools made Metanoia compulsory, and it was sneaking into many workplaces. It didn’t help that the advertising made religious pamphlets look tame.
Are you struggling with yourself?
Are you always battling the same inner demons?
Are YOU the greatest enemy in your own life??
“Not exactly!” Azra had said, before she threw the pamphlet with the crazy perfect faces into the bin. She’d mentioned her work trip only days later. She’d shrugged when he’d asked why.
“The marketing isn’t great!” Azra agreed, poking the flames again with the long set of tongs. She turned the charcoal over, careful to keep the flames burning evenly. Tongues of flame danced on the pit, warming the grill that lay above and searing white patches onto the fuel. It was too hot now but he didn’t back away.
Azra turned her large eyes on his, and smiled. A warm smile, full of all the love she’d ever held. She’d changed, they both knew, but maybe it was as she said. A realisation of what had always been there, lurking underneath and hidden by the judgement she feared.
“Do you see how easy people connect and love each other, when they don’t remember their excuses for hiding?”
In the bright sunlight, and distant laughter of the children he did not point out his reservations. Boundaries existed for a reason, and you could not remove them completely. Life was about learning who was safe to trust. A small voice in his mind spoke to him about his upbringing, the raised fist and locked doors. He banished the memories. That was not his life anymore, and would not be his daughters.
The adults in the pool stopped singing, and the counsellor waded back to join them.
“Don’t think about what you left behind. For the next hour, let it all go!” The adults gathered round her, laughing. He wondered if she would hand them a ball to play with too. What tricks would they learn?
Azra winced, beside him. “I did find that part hard to keep straight-faced!”
“Were you in a pool?” Danial asked, suddenly aware of how little interest he’d shown. He tried to picture his wife as one of the singing adults, and grinned.
“Bowling, can you believe!” She said, shaking her head. She didn’t meet his eyes as she spoke. Some truly epic fights had been held in bowling alleys, especially early on in their relationship. Azra did not do well at being bad at anything.
“But you are awful!” He answered, without thinking. He regretted it instantly.
“But that’s just it.” Azra said, raising her brows at him. “When I didn’t have those expectations, I did alright. Not great, perhaps but far better than normal. Better than most there in fact!”
She sighed, and it sounded remorseful. “I’m sorry I didn’t say. I didn’t plan for it, but it’s been on my mind for a while. It did me good.”
Her voice was pained and she didn’t look at him. How difficult it must have been for her to admit how she felt. When the technique faded, surely all the inhibitions and fear of judgment rushed back in?
“Agreed.” He said and smiled back at her. He hoped it was reassuring. “So the twins will remember?”
She nodded, and her expression was playful. Placing the poker to one side she wrapped her smokey hands around him, leaving dark handprints on his shirt. “And we’d best not let them forget it!”
The children returned in a noisy flood of chatter, dressed and with bags carefully packed. The parents hovered around the edges, a herd in need of direction as the counsellor returned. He waved his large hands, calling for silence.
“So, let’s find out!”
The children looked apprehensive, and sure enough as the counsellor passed out the memory passes, he was greeted with a varied response. Some of the teens even swore, which the counsellor reprimanded them for. “Come on now!” he said. “Remember what we said at the beginning?”
“People are not static!” the children chanted, listlessly although the short-sighted teen boy said so happily enough. The brown-haired girl who’d dived in looked rather thoughtful as she received hers.
His own girls looked rather grumpy, as the counsellor put them to the front of the line to be returned. Siblings were always done together, to avoid any issues, and Danial walked up to them so that when they remembered, he was there to be the familiar face.
Right now it was only the counsellor they remembered. A familiar face from their years at school and one they all trusted, although didn’t always lik
e.
“He’s too cheery!” Laurel had grumbled.
The pass touched their wrists, and the data uploaded back into the girls. They blinked for a moment, memory returning. Dropping their linked arms together they stared at each other in shock. Faces couldn’t have looked more disgusted.
Together they shouted, “But we HATE each other!”
Danial sighed, everything was back to normal.
###
About the Author
Christine Jayne Vann was born in the Outer Hebrides and is Author of When Disconnected, a short story collection. Her latest book is the science fiction story Tacenda which follows Kerris and Arucken, an interspecies messenger team and their semi-sentient ship Octavia. Christine contributes to various anthologies and is always working on something new!
Christine works as a web developer, and lives in Oxfordshire with her family, dog, hedgehog and various squirrels. She runs the exotic pet resource website Crittery, and also enjoys geocaching.
Connect with Christine Jayne Vann
Thank you for reading my book, if you enjoyed it please take a moment to leave a review at your favourite retailer. To learn more about my works or to connect with me on social media please take a look at my website: https://www.christinejayne.co.uk/
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