Chapter Text
The drive back home was awkward. Regina’s own sister had tried to opt against coming to pick her up, and even after Kylie had been forced to come by her mother, she sat with a frankly adorable pout on her face, turned slightly away from Regina. She refused to speak to her sister, and Mrs. George didn’t make things better, although occasionally she attempted to involve Regina in some conversations that meant absolutely nothing to anyone in the car.
The name itself felt unfamiliar. When she had woken up at the hospital, she hadn’t remembered her own name — at least, that was what she had been told. She didn’t remember much of the last two weeks eithe; she had spent them high on pain medication anyway. Pain medication was nice, a bit addictive, but she didn’t control it until now. From what she could tell from her short time in the car, Mrs. George was not the most watchful mother, and she seemed especially out of her depth now that one of her daughters had lost her memory.
Amnesia was funny, in a sick sort of way. Regina assumed that she was a person before her accident, whatever had happened; she must have been told about the nature of her injury at some point, but she was definitely high as a kite and a little traumatized by the medically induced coma she had been in.
Surely comas were meant to be more interesting than Regina’s was. She had spent an undisclosed amount of time swirling in a world of Calder mobiles, except they weren’t mobiles at all, and they didn’t really seem to feel like anything. Regina figured that she was in some sort of dream, but she didn’t remember her own name, so it was probably fair to assume that she was dead. Surprisingly, she woke up, and was a little confused as to why the world seemed to have been bleached of color. She was still getting used to the disappointingly gray asphalt which streaked past the back window of Mrs. George’s silver Lexus.
“So how did I get knocked out, anyway?” she asked nonchalantly. Mrs. George choked on her spit. The car nearly swerved into the barrier — a disappointingly white barrier —but Mrs. George finished her coughing fit just in time to set the car right, amidst a chorus of honks. Kylie looked at her mother curiously.
“Nobody told you?” Mrs. George asked quietly.
“Well, someone probably did, but I wouldn’t remember. I hear too many things these days.”
Mrs. George nods. “Well, to be honest, I don’t know what happened. Apparently you were out climbing one day, and then your rope snapped, or something. Maybe one of those nail things, whatever you call those, came loose. Either way, you fell.”
“Where?” Regina asked. “Doesn’t look like there’s much to climb around here.”
Mrs. George looked surprised. “Not here, sweetie, in California. Don’t you remember the flight back?”
“I was probably knocked out.”
“Right,” Mrs. George said slowly. “Right. Sorry, Regina.”
The woman was glad to be home, it showed on her face. Regina thought that Mrs. George was a strange person, and it did not bode well for her if such a strange person had raised her. At least it explained why no friends had visited her in the hospital. They simply hadn’t been in California.
Regina dragged Kylie into a room that looked like it could’ve belonged to her. She tossed her younger sister onto the bed, and noticed that Kylie looked terrified. That was a shame. What else was she supposed to do? It wasn’t as though Kylie was speaking to her, not in full sentences, anyway.
“What do you want?” Kylie asked.
“I want to know what the hell actually happened on that day,” Regina said firmly. “And I can see that you don’t like me much, that’s all right. But I deserve to know what happened to me.”
Kylie shrunk back. “I don’t hate you. I said that — you remember that, don’t you, Gina? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. It’s just that… it’s just that… you shouldn’t have done it, Gina!”
“I shouldn’t have done what?”
Kylie clapped a hand over her mouth. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you! Mom said not to.”
“What… Mom doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” Regina said. The word felt unfamiliar to her, just like her own name, or her sister’s name, or her father’s name, wherever he was.
Kylie looked around nervously. “Promise you won’t tell.”
“I won’t,” Regina said. “Now tell me. What the actual fuck happened?”
Kylie hugged her knees to her chest, looking down at the pink blankets that she was sitting on. “You were climbing a five-thirteen-D in Yosemite. I told you not to go, you know, because I thought something felt a little off about your ropes, but Dad told me to shut up and you laughed at me.”
“Okay, pause. What’s a five-thirteen-D?”
Kylie’s eyes widened. “You don’t know?”
“Get to the point.”
“It’s, like, a really hard climbing route. The hardest you’d ever done. You were hoping to get in a five-fourteen as well in the Yosemite trip — at least, Dad wanted you to, I thought it wasn’t a good idea, but I’m ten, what would I know, yeah?”
Kylie laughed mirthlessly. Regina sighed. “What happened after that?”
“When you touched the top, you pumped your fists, smiled down at me, and then called for Dad to let you back down. He was at the pitch below you, climbing through a side, obviously, he couldn’t go through the main route like you. But he was belaying you, and that made me even more afraid. Dad isn’t the best at belaying, especially not when you went ahead to the pitch above him. But you touched the top anyway, and then you started just scampering down. Dad’s hands slipped, you slipped.”
“Then?”
“Then the rope snapped, and I watched you fall right in front of me.”
“Then?”
“You fell from the sky, and when you landed your back snapped in a way that backs never should. I screamed. Dad didn’t. Your blood splattered all over my face. Your neck was broken.”
“That’s why I have this neck collar thing?”
Kylie nodded. “And the last thing I told you before you went up was that I hated you.”
Regina sighed. “That’s not the last thing you’ll ever tell me, though, is it? You can tell me you love me now, if you want.”
Kylie’s lips did not turn upward. “You’re a different person now. You don’t even remember who I am, what we did, how you were to me. You aren’t my sister. You’re just something that looks like her, but inside, you’re just empty.”
She stormed off, leaving Regina alone and puzzled. “What the fuck?”
Her father was absent, which, apparently, seemed to be consistent with his behavior in Kylie’s story. She didn’t know if she wanted to ask Mrs. George where he was — probably not, but it appeared to be the right thing to do, and she supposed that she was meant to do the right thing, even if it was hard. She could put it off until dinner, sure, but that would probably make Kylie hate her even more, and anyway, Mrs. George probably wouldn’t give much of an answer unless she was pushed.
Regina knocked on her mother’s door. “One second!”
The door opened, revealing Mrs. George on the other side with some kind of mud plastered across her face. “Skincare,” she said, as though that explained everything. “What’s the matter?”
“Where’s Dad?” Regina asked. Mrs. George froze. “Come again?”
“Where is my father?”
Mrs. George nodded. “Right. Him. He — uh, dear, do we have to do this now?”
“Yes,” Regina said firmly. “Yes, I think we do. You don’t have a right to keep my own life away from me.”
“There’s not much to tell, sweetie. Your father should be back soon, I think. At least I hope so. He seemed rather angry. I assumed that he had come home, but I suppose that’s not the case. It doesn’t matter. He’ll be back sooner or later.”
“Sounds like a great guy,” Regina drawled. “I don’t feel like staying here right now, if that’s all right. Do I have any friends I can visit?”
Mrs. George paused. After considering her options for a moment, she settled on telling what must have been the truth.
“You fought with them at the beginning of the summer,” Mrs. George said.
“All of them?”
“Each and every single one. They weren’t really talking to you.”
“What happened?” Regina asked. Mrs. George looked uncomfortable.
“I’m not really sure,” she said. She wasn’t telling the truth, not entirely, Regina knew that. She decided not to press. Surely at least one of them would be willing to forgive her.
“Which one do you think would talk to me?”
“Karen,” Mrs. George responded quickly. “Karen is the forgiving sort of person, you know. She doesn’t think too much about things.”
“Okay,” Regina said. “Could I go see her?”
“Absolutely not.”
“How come?”
“You can’t drive,” Mrs. George said.
Regina rolled her eyes. “Of course I can drive,” she lied easily. “The doctor said so, remember?”
Google had said this, so it couldn’t be too wrong. “It’s not like I’ll just forget how to use a steering wheel, anyway. How bad can it be? I already feel like I’ve been hit by a bus.”
“All right, but you are not taking the Jeep, young lady. Take my car.”
That was how Regina found herself in the silver Lexus, following the GPS’s directions on the display screen. She hadn’t gone through her texts with Karen yet, although they appeared to be mostly useless, or a spread of incomprehensible emojis that were used in such ridiculous sequences that Regina thought she might have been fluent in a second language. Regardless, she drove through the streets, parallel parking in front of a moderately sized house. The window was open, and through it wafted out the smell of something that was probably spiced all the way to heaven. The fragrance was pleasant.
Regina rang the doorbell and waited a few seconds before it was opened by a middle-aged Indian woman, who was just a bit shorter than Regina herself. Her top had a turmeric stain on it, and her cheeks were slightly reddened, perhaps from the heat of the stovetop upon which a large vessel sat simmering.
“Hi, I’m Regina,” Regina said, and then she felt stupid. This woman knew her, of course. “I don’t remember anything.”
The woman clucked sympathetically. “Come in, dear. Karen is upstairs, I’ll call her.”
She sat Regina down on a large sofa, and called out, “Kalla, banni!”
The answer came from upstairs. “Eke?”
“Ekandare nanu hage helide! Come!”
She turned to Regina. “Poor dear. You really don’t remember anything?”
“Not at all,” Regina said. “ Mrs. George — I mean, Mom told me that I was friends with Karen, so I decided to come on over.”
“How’re you feeling now? Is your back all right? These things hurt, I suppose.”
“Painkillers help,” Regina said. “Apart from that… there isn’t really much I can do. Definitely can’t climb, and I don’t think anyone wants me to, either, after that accident.”
“I don’t suppose you remember what happened.”
“No, and every version I’ve received seems to be edited rather convienently,” Regina said. “From what I can gather, a rope snapped and sent me flying down with it. I must’ve hit my head, and everything else as well. That’s about all I know. I figure I must have been at least a little bit foolish, but I’ll never know, will I?”
“Poor dear,” the woman repeated. She turned to the stairs agian. “Karen!”
“Coming!”
Footsteps echoed through the hall as Regina sat in silence. Finally, a girl revealed herself, a dark-skinned, tall, curly-haired girl: Karen, or so Regina assumed. She smiled weakly and Karen, and Karen reciprocated the expression, her face matching Regina’s own rather closely.
“Hi,” Regina said, waving shyly. Karen looked at her, confused.
“Hi,” she responded.
“I’m Regina,” Regina said, and she felt like an idiot for the second time in the last ten minutes. Way to go.
“I know that,” Karen responded.
“You’re Karen?”
“You know that,” Karen said slowly. “What’s wrong with you?”
Her eyes lit up. “Oh! I know! It’s that ammonia thing Amma was talking about, right?”
“Amnesia, dear,” Karen’s mother said.
“Right, ammonia, that’s what I said, Amma!”
Regina was going to lose braincells in Karen’s company sooner or later. “Right, so I don’t remember you.”
“But you remember Gretchen, right?” Karen asked.
Regina suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. “No. I don’t remember anyone.”
“Not even Janis?”
“No.”
“You have to remember Cady! You liked her!”
“I told you, I don’t remember anyone.”
Karen squinted. “But you didn’t forget, like, your sister, right?”
“I did. When I woke up I didn’t know her name.”
“And your mom?”
“I didn’t know her name either.”
“But —”
Karen’s mother, who had been watching silently until then, thankfully put a stop to Karen’s line of questioning. “Regina didn’t even remember her own name, putti. Isn’t that right, Regina?”
“Yes,” Regina said, grateful for the interruption. “I didn’t remember anything.”
“Pretend you’re meeting someone new, putti. Introduce yourself.”
Unexpectedly, Karen started bawling. Regina shrunk away, puzzled.
“But if Gina doesn’t remember me she won’t like me!”
“Of course I will,” Regina said reassuringly. “I liked you before I fell, I’ll like you after I fell. You didn’t change, it’s just me. We’ll be friends again by tonight.”
Karen jumped up and sprinted up the stairs, wailing loudly as she ran. Regina looked at Karen’s mother. “What did I do?”
“You didn’t do anything, dear, it’s just… you seem to be a bit different. Karen doesn’t know why you’re different.”
“In a good way?”
Karen’s mother smiled sadly. “You should talk to Gretchen. She misses you.”
“Who’s that, Mrs. Shetty?”
“Please, just Inchara. Auntie is fine as well.”
Inchara was rather a pleasant person, Regina thought. She wished that her own mother would’ve been as patient or kind, but some things were too much to ask for. Everyone was different. Regina must have liked her mother at some point.
“Sorry, auntie. Who’s Gretchen?”
“Your best friend,” Inchara said kindly. “She fought with you, you know, but she’s been inconsolable since she found out you were hurt. Even more so when your mother told us you had forgotten everything. I don’t think she thinks you want her in your life.”
“She sounds like a better friend than I deserve,” Regina said. “I should go visit her.”
“Have something to eat first,” Inchara said. “I made Mysore pak for Karen’s birthday the other day. I’ll give you some.”
“That would be lovely. Thank you, auntie.”
The Mysore pak turned out to be a rectangular prism of sugary goodness. Regina reached guiltily for another one as she felt the first melt in her mouth deliciously. She looked up at Inchara. “Could I have another one, auntie?”
“Have as many as you like,” Inchara told her, smiling. “I’m glad you’re not starving yourself anymore. You need energy to recover, you know?”
Regina nodded, her mouth full of Mysore pak. She was mildly horrified to learn that she was depriving herself of this without good reason. She certainly needed to be over at Karen’s more often.
“Do the doctors think you’ll get your memory back?” Inchara asked. Regina tilted her head. She thought for a moment.
“Not necessarily,” she said at last. “I might have a few flashbacks, though. Dreams and whatnot. It’s all really strange. The doctors did say I’d never remember how I felt doing anything, because that’s just… gone, somehow. So I suppose that’s only a little better than not remembering at all.”
“Sometimes, dear, it is a blessing to forget,” Inchara said. “I have done many things I’d like to have forgotten. So have you, certainly, as has everyone else. This is your second chance, isn’t it? Think of it like that, at least. I imagine that is the only way it would be tolerable.
Regina shrugged. “I haven’t thought about it that much.”
“You should go visit Gretchen now,” Inchara said. “Drop by again sometime this week. Karen will come around sooner or later.”
“I will,” Regina said. She rose to her feet.
“And Regina?”
“Yeah?”
“Give Gretchen a hug, would you?”
Regina smiled. “All right.”