Memory in the Shores
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The first time I saw him, he was just a boy. And yet there seemed to be something about that face—the way it looked out at me from behind his glasses or hung limply on his shoulders like an old man’s—that made me feel as though I’d known him all my life and had seen him only once before.
He sat with his legs crossed beneath him, leaning back against the wall of one of those tall wooden buildings that are so common in this part of town. His head leaned forward slightly; he wore a loose-fitting white shirt open over a black T-shirt underneath, and his hair fell into his eyes.
The sun shone through the window opposite us onto his skin: brownish red, almost orange in places where sunlight bleached it away. It gave him the look of someone who lived under a desert sky, but not quite.
“I don’t know,” he said suddenly when I asked if we could talk for five minutes. “Why?”
He took off his glasses without looking up from the floor between our feet. They were thick plastic frames held together by metal wires threaded down their arms. When they hit his lap, he picked them up again, holding them carefully in front of his chest while keeping his eyes fixed on mine.
“Because you’re important.” A smile spread across his lips as he spoke; even then I knew I would never forget him.
He put his glasses back on, resting them gently atop the bridge of his nose. Then he pushed himself to his feet and began walking toward the door, gesturing for me to follow. We walked side by side along the narrow corridor outside the room, moving slowly past several other rooms until eventually, we came to a staircase leading downward.
At the bottom of the stairs, we turned left and continued walking. In front of us was a blank gray wall covered in what appeared to be concrete blocks stacked one on top of another. Beyond it lay a small square courtyard filled with dirt. There were no plants growing there; instead, the ground was strewn with large stones, broken bricks, empty tin cans, and a few discarded pieces of clothing.
We stopped next to the doorway of a building whose windows faced the street. Inside its walls stood three other men dressed much like myself—all wearing long black pants, light shirts, and dark jackets. All four of us stared straight ahead, watching the traffic pass by.
No one said anything as we waited in silence for some time after which we moved inside, following the others who led the way down two flights of stairs into a basement. Here we found ourselves standing amidst stacks upon stacks of bookshelves lined end to end, stretching from ceiling to floor.
A woman stepped in from the hall beyond the shelves. She had a short hair cut close around her ears and chin. Her clothes were simple and plain: jeans, sneakers, a faded blue sweater tied tightly around her waist with a wide leather belt.
“Welcome,” she told us, smiling warmly. “You must be Mr. Kowalczy.”
She didn’t wait for us to answer before continuing. “Let me show you your apartment, please. This is where you’ll live during your stay here. If you need any help getting settled in, let me know. You can find me upstairs in my office anytime, day or night.”
Then she pointed at the stack nearest to us, indicating that we should take the book sitting beside it. As I reached for it, however, she shook her head. “No, no, don’t bother yourself,” she said quickly. “Just leave it right there.
I’ll bring it down later tonight when everything’s ready for you. For now, why not make yourselves comfortable? Come in and have a seat anywhere you like. But first…” She glanced briefly at the rest of us, nodded briskly, and left the room.
After closing the door behind her, we followed her instructions. One by one, we each chose a spot to sit and took out the book we’d been given. Each of these books bore the same title and author as the one I’d already read: Memory in the Shores.
The pages themselves were blank, but they were bound together in such a way that it felt as though they might open up to reveal writing within. On each cover, the words were written in a flowing, elegant cursive script. The titles and authors were listed below the covers in smaller print.
The first thing I noticed was how heavy the weight of the volume in my hands was. Its binding seemed strong enough to hold the whole book closed, but I suspected otherwise. I also sensed that the book itself wasn’t entirely solid. Instead, it vibrated slightly in my grasp, giving the impression of being hollow somehow.
As I opened it at random and started reading, I realized immediately that this was not a new edition. It was an old one, printed decades ago and now falling apart under the strain of years of use and misuse. Though the text remained intact, the spine had split at one corner and the edges were frayed and worn.
This was just one of many signs suggesting that the book had once belonged to someone else. Others included the fact that the ink of the page numbers hadn’t yet dried properly, leaving faint streaks visible through the paper; the presence of stains on the corners and margins; and the absence of a dust jacket.
I looked up from the book as soon as I finished reading the last sentence. My companions had all done likewise—even the man with the glasses. We sat quietly staring at nothing in particular for quite sometime before one of them finally broke the silence.
“So…what did you think?” he asked me, still gazing at the floor. He sounded almost timid in spite of his confident manner earlier in the room. His voice was low, so soft that if I hadn’t known better I wouldn’t have been able to hear him over the sound of cars passing outside.
At least, that’s what it felt like. I couldn’t actually tell whether or not anyone was speaking to me until I turned toward their voices. When I did, I saw that everyone except the woman with the curly hair was looking directly at me. They seemed more curious than afraid, perhaps because they knew I could see and understand what they were saying without having to turn my eyes to face them.
Still, none of them spoke again for several minutes. Then, very deliberately, the woman with the brown curls began to speak.
“…you’re probably wondering about our little game, aren’t you? Well, it doesn’t really matter either way. In a sense, the outcome isn’t even important anymore. Not in the grand scheme of things, anyway.”
There was something odd in her tone of voice. Despite her calm demeanor, the question she posed seemed strangely urgent. Yet when I tried to focus my attention solely on her lips, trying hard not to look elsewhere or give too much thought to what was going on around us, it became impossible to concentrate.
At times, I found myself unable to follow her thoughts at all. Instead, I would lose track completely and begin thinking only about other matters—things unrelated to anything happening in front of me.
When this happened, I felt as if I were watching events unfold inside a dream, rather than experiencing them firsthand. And while that made it easier to ignore whatever was coming next, it meant that I missed out on a great deal along the way.
Even worse, sometimes I forgot what I’d seen altogether once my vision returned. Perhaps this was another effect of the spell the woman was casting over me, but whatever its true cause, it didn’t seem to be working particularly well.
She continued talking as though oblivious to any of these problems, although every few sentences she paused long enough to wait for my response. Her speech was slow and deliberate, which helped keep me focused. Still, after half an hour passed without my responding, she seemed to grow impatient. Finally, she gave up waiting and simply went ahead with her explanation.
“You know, there are two ways we can go here,” she said, sounding somewhat apologetic. “We could pretend everything is fine and continue pretending that nothing ever changed. Or…” She hesitated briefly before continuing. “…we could do something different. Something drastic. Maybe even dangerous. But ultimately worth it.”
I nodded silently at this point, not trusting myself to speak.
“Well then, let’s start by getting rid of your friend over there,” she suggested with a smile.
***
It took less than five seconds for the woman’s words to reach the man with glasses across the room. By the time I heard him gasp in surprise, the woman had already moved past him into the middle of the circle formed by my friends. As expected, no one attempted to stop her. All of them watched curiously as she approached.
Then, suddenly, she reached out and grabbed the man who had spoken before. Before anyone could react, she pulled him close and pressed a finger against his throat. A moment later, blood gushed forth from between her slender fingers.
The man collapsed onto the ground in agony, clutching his neck as he writhed around on the floor. Blood sprayed everywhere, splattering onto the walls behind him.
The others stared at him in shock, their faces pale beneath the glare of the fluorescent lights overhead. Their expressions quickly shifted from fear to confusion, however, when they noticed how slowly he bled.
After a minute or so, the flow slowed down entirely and eventually stopped altogether. There was still plenty of blood left on the man’s clothes and hands, but when he wiped away the drops clinging to his skin, they came off easily, leaving barely any trace of red on his palms. It appeared to be just like wiping dirt off of a white sheet: the stain wasn’t nearly as bad as it should have been.
No sooner had the man recovered than the woman released him. She smiled sweetly at him as she stepped back into position near the center of the room. Once again, she waited patiently for someone else to speak first.
A tall girl with short black hair finally managed to find her courage. “What…was that?” she asked weakly. “And why does nobody feel sick now? Did you kill him somehow, or is this some kind of magic trick?”
This time, the woman didn’t hesitate to respond. “Oh, don’t worry about that. We haven’t killed him at all. He’ll live through this. Probably.”
Everyone stared blankly at her for several moments afterward. When they couldn’t come up with any further questions, the woman turned toward me.
“So, what do you think? Would you prefer to play it safe and avoid making any changes whatsoever, or would you rather try something new?”
My mind raced frantically, searching desperately for some possible answer. On the surface, things looked exactly the same as before, yet I knew better than to trust appearances. Everything had gone terribly wrong since arriving at this place, and I had a feeling that the worst might not be over quite yet.
This strange woman could very well be responsible for all those awful incidents in the woods. If that was indeed the case, then surely she wouldn’t want to leave me alive to tell everyone else what had really happened here.
In fact, given the circumstances, it was probably best if I ended up dead after all. Sooner or later, I’d either get hit by lightning or run over by a car; whichever came first would be good enough for me. Better to die instantly than spend years suffering from painful injuries inflicted by someone else’s cruel intentions.
Unfortunately, however, my thoughts were interrupted by another voice.
“Why did you bring us here in the first place, anyway? And why is everybody acting so weird today?” the boy named Ryo asked.
He sounded annoyed, almost angry. His tone made clear that he thought the woman had brought us together only to torment us. Perhaps he hadn’t realized until now how much trouble we’d actually been in.
That seemed to satisfy the woman because she returned her attention to me once more.
“Are you sure you’re okay with doing this?” she asked. “If you aren’t, we can always call an ambulance and take care of business the old-fashioned way. You won’t even notice anything different. No pain, no fuss.” Her grin grew wider as she spoke these last few sentences, revealing rows upon rows of perfectly straight teeth.
She certainly doesn’t sound like she has our safety in mind! I wanted to shout back at her, but of course, I remained silent instead. After all, she was clearly trying to help me, and I was determined to repay her kindness by cooperating fully.
Besides, I needed her to believe that everything would turn out fine if she followed my instructions. Otherwise, she would never agree to perform the procedure herself.
“Yeah, go ahead,” I told her calmly. “Just make it quick.”
As soon as she finished speaking, the woman began working her magic. Without saying a word, she motioned for me to sit on one side of the circle while the rest of my friends sat on the other. Then, without warning, she held up both hands and placed them directly above each of our heads, just inches apart.
As expected, sparks flew upward from where she touched us—but far fewer than usual. Instead of dozens of tiny explosions, there were maybe half a dozen scattered throughout the area.
I watched carefully as the woman continued manipulating the energy around us. Soon, she moved her hands farther apart and started using a bit less force. Eventually, though, she stopped moving completely. For several seconds, nothing changed at all; then the spark count rose again, gradually increasing until finally reaching its peak.
A moment later, the woman lowered her arms and stepped backward to join her companions. The whole process took no longer than five minutes to complete.
“You’re free to go,” the woman announced cheerfully. “Have fun!”
Once again, we all stood up simultaneously. Before anyone could move, however, the woman added two words of caution: “But please remember to keep your distance from each other for at least twenty-four hours.”
Then she turned away and walked off into the forest behind us. Nobody said a thing as we hurried out of the clearing and headed back home.
It wasn’t long before we arrived at the house. Everyone gathered outside while I ran inside to change clothes. My parents weren’t expecting me right away, so they gave me their blessing and went upstairs to watch TV.
Meanwhile, my classmates crowded into the living room to wait for news about what had happened in the forest. They all looked tired and worn down, which meant that they must have spent most of the day running errands or shopping for groceries.
Even so, none of them complained or showed signs of distress as I recounted every detail of our encounter with the mysterious stranger. Once again, I emphasized that everything had worked out in the end; nobody objected when I insisted that I didn’t need to see a doctor after all.
Afterward, I decided to treat myself to dinner at a nearby restaurant. There, I ordered steak and fries along with a glass of beer; it felt like ages since my last meal out on the town. When I got back home, Mom met me at the door and handed me a small package wrapped in brown paper.
She explained that she’d gone grocery shopping earlier in the evening and picked up some food for me as well. It was nice to be spoiled rotten sometimes, especially by someone who cared about me so much.
The next morning, I woke up early and prepared breakfast for everyone else. We ate quietly and chatted amiably enough, but something still bothered me deeply. Despite having been rescued from such dire straits yesterday afternoon, I couldn’t shake the feeling that things might yet get worse very soon…
***
Two weeks passed without incident. Our lives went back to normal. School work piled up on my desk, and I found it increasingly difficult to focus on any of it. But I knew that I shouldn’t allow myself to slack off too much during exams week, so I forced myself to stay organized.
To make matters worse, I also ended up taking part in a number of extracurricular activities over the past couple of months, including a school trip to Japan’s northernmost island of Hokkaido. This left me little time for leisure reading, let alone writing fanfiction. On top of everything else, I had to study for a science test that was scheduled to take place the following Monday.
In spite of all these distractions, I managed to finish all my homework on schedule. By Friday night, I felt ready to tackle my exam questions head-on. In addition, I made sure to spend plenty of time talking with my family before going to bed. After all, we were celebrating Mother’s Day this weekend.
Although I hadn’t gotten around to telling my mom about my newfound powers, I hoped that I would do so eventually. If not today, then maybe tomorrow? Or the next day…?
On Saturday, I awoke bright and early. While Mom and Dad showered upstairs, I brewed coffee downstairs and set the table. Then, once everyone had finished getting dressed, we drove to an Italian restaurant downtown.
At first glance, the place seemed rather ordinary; however, as soon as we entered through a narrow doorway, the ambiance transformed dramatically. The interior design resembled that of a medieval castle more than anything else.
As we sat down at one of the tables, I glanced at my parent’s faces and saw how happy they both looked. Their smiles reminded me just how lucky I was to have them by my side. Not only did they care for me unconditionally, but they always treated me like a real adult instead of a child. That made me feel warm and fuzzy all over.
By mid-afternoon, we returned home, and the three of us enjoyed a quiet supper together. Afterward, I took a bath (which was followed by another round of studying). Later that night, I finally allowed myself to relax—for a few minutes anyway.
I lay there in bed with my laptop open on my lap. A new chapter was already waiting for me in the folder titled “Mystery Man.” Since I wrote it late last year, I figured that I’d read the draft several times now, but somehow my heart still skipped a beat whenever I opened its file.
Just as I was about to click on the title, though, I heard a knock at my bedroom door. I closed the document immediately and stood up from my chair.
“Who is it?” I called out.
No reply came from beyond the door. Instead, Mom appeared in the hallway wearing her pajamas. Her hair was disheveled and messed up, and she looked exhausted.
She held up a small box with a ribbon tied around it and smiled at me. “Happy Mother’s Day!” she announced cheerfully. “Are you awake?”
“Yes,” I replied, opening the door wider so she could come inside.
Mom stepped into the room carrying the gift. She placed the box on the floor beside me and knelt down right in front of me. Then, after pausing briefly, she began to speak: “There are two reasons why I gave you this present tonight.
First of all, because I know that you’ll never forget your mother when she gives you something special like this. And second…” She paused again, searching for words. “…because I think that if we don’t tell each other about our true feelings sooner or later, we may end up regretting it forever.”
Her voice cracked slightly as she spoke those final words. My eyes welled up with tears almost instantly.
“What does that mean?!” I burst out suddenly.
Mother shook her head sadly. “It means exactly what I said. You’re growing up so fast, and I’m afraid that someday you’ll realize that I’ve been holding back on some important information. So…before that happens—”
As she continued speaking, my father slipped silently into the room behind her. He wore his usual white button-down shirt, blue jeans, and sneakers, but he didn’t have a stitch of makeup on. His skin glowed under the fluorescent lights, making him look younger than ever.
Despite the fact that my parents weren’t young anymore, they both looked incredibly handsome. For a moment, I forgot where I was and simply stared at their silhouettes against the wall.
Then I remembered who I was talking to. “Uh, yeah…so…”
With an apologetic smile, Father turned toward my mother. “That’s enough talk. Let’s go to bed.”
He gently grabbed her hand and helped pull her up onto her feet. Once she had straightened herself out, he wrapped her in a tight hug. “Goodnight, sweetheart,” he whispered tenderly.
After watching them for a minute longer, I walked over to my parents and hugged them tightly in turn. They smelled nice too! Like fresh laundry mixed with freshly baked cookies. It was such an intimate gesture, and yet I knew that no matter how much affection I showed them, nothing could make up for everything they had done for me until now.
They pulled away from me slowly and gazed at my face intently as if trying to memorize every part of it before leaving the room. After closing the door behind them, I collapsed into my desk chair and let my head sink into my hands. What were they really saying?
Were things going to change between us now that they knew the truth about me? Would we be able to maintain a normal family relationship after learning that I was gay? Or would we eventually break off all contact entirely?
There were so many questions running through my mind, and not even five seconds passed before I realized just how silly they sounded. I couldn’t help but laugh at my own foolishness.
Still chuckling, I reached for the laptop. The new chapter was still waiting for me, and I clicked on the title without hesitation.