Into the Fire (2 page)

“Mom.” My voice shakes, and I feel like I’m five again because I just want my mommy.

Jeremy stares at me. “Why are you crying?” His eyes are sympathetic, but the emotion stops there.

“I—” I don’t know the words to say what I’m feeling, not that he’ll understand anyway. To him, I’m just Cara, his sister. That’s all he knows about me.

“Here.” Mom hands Jeremy the scrapbook she helped him make. Pictures of our friends with their names written under them litter the pages. His memory book. I have one, too. Mom and I started making it when I was six. “Study the names and faces. The sooner you can remember who your friends are, the sooner you can start being around people again.”

Jeremy squints at the faces staring up at him from the page. “This girl…” He points. “She has her arm around me. Is she my girlfriend?”

It’s Rachel, Jeremy’s crush of the last two years and my best friend. “No, she’s a friend,” I say.

“She’s pretty.” That’s a good sign. He’s still attracted to her. Maybe the pictures will jog other feelings, memories even. Jeremy hand selected each photo, filling the book with things that meant the most to him. If anything is going to remind him of his old life, it’s this.

“Do you know who this is?” I point to Nick, another mutual friend. “He gave you the posters on your walls. Do you remember? He taught you to play the guitar.”

Jeremy shakes his head. “I feel like I woke up in someone else’s life.” He throws the memory book on the bed and walks to the window, looking out. “Will they come back at all? The memories? Or do I have to relearn them and just smile and nod when my
friends
bring them up?” The word “friends” is laced with sarcasm.

I put my hand on his shoulder. “They’ll be your friends again. As soon as you spend time with them, you’ll see how well you get along.”

“She’s right, sweetie. You’ll understand why you became friends with them in your first life, and you’ll fit in with them again.” How can Mom sound so calm? Every word I say is shaky and uneven. I know she was just as scared as I was earlier, but it’s like ever since Jeremy came back, she’s been able to hold it together. Why can’t
I
do that for Jeremy? Why is the pain I’m feeling consuming me to the point where I can’t be strong for him?

He looks down at my hand, and I pull it away. He doesn’t want me touching him.

“If I can’t even remember my own family, how will I remember people who couldn’t have meant nearly as much to me?” His voice is laced with anger, so much so that I’m afraid he’s going to send everything in reach up in flames.

I swallow hard. Hearing him say he doesn’t remember me is like having my insides stomped on. “Do you remember anything about me? What you used to call me?”

He puts his hand to his forehead and shuts his eyes. He’s trying to force the memories to come, but they aren’t there. He punches the wall, and his fist goes right through it. I jump. Jeremy’s never been violent. If the rebirth is changing him, what will it do to me? Jeremy’s always been the strong one.

Mom rushes to him. “I can heal this for you.”

“No.” He holds his hand up in front of his face. “
This
I can feel. It’s the
only
thing I feel—other than confusion. I don’t want the pain to go away.”

Mom nods and backs away from him. Even if he broke a few bones, she can heal him later, once he stops cringing at our touch.

“Cara-bird.” My voice shakes. “You used to call me Cara-bird.” My God, I’m falling to pieces.

Jeremy looks at me, studies the tears running down my cheeks, and laughs. “Wow, that’s a stupid nickname. I really came up with that?”

“It’s not stupid. You were six when you started calling me that. You’d just found out we’re Phoenixes. Remember? You were upset that we weren’t something tougher, like bears. So I called you Jer-bear. You loved it, and you called me Cara-bird.”

His laughter fades. “We were close?”

I nod. “Always have been.” I bite my lip to keep from losing it. Nothing short of my own rebirth will make me forget what I lost the moment Jeremy turned to ashes. I take a deep breath, walk to Jeremy’s bed, and pick up his iPod. “Maybe you should listen to some music. It might help jog your memory.” I try to place an ear bud in his ear, but he backs away. “Oh God, Jeremy, I’d never hurt you. You have to know that.”

“Cara-bird.”

Hearing him say my nickname makes my insides crumble to pieces. The blank expression on his face means he doesn’t remember ever calling me that.

I turn and run up the steps. It’s too much. I can’t handle watching Jeremy suffer like this, watching him struggle to remember who he is. The memory book, the iPod, the stories—they don’t mean anything to him. They’re only breaking his heart and mine. “I’m going to the falls,” I yell to Mom without looking back.

I need to escape. I need to get away from Jeremy—the brother I lost.

Logan

Ashlan Falls is about as far from New York City as you can get. Not in distance, but in every other way possible. In New York, anything can happen, and it does. I was never bored there. There were places to go and people everywhere. But now I live here. Ashlan Falls. Man, it even
sounds
like a middle-of-nowhere town. Dad looked the place up online before we got here; worse, he read the description to me. So, I know there’s one waterfall. Okay, there are three, but they’re all in the same place, so in my mind that equals one. Of course, in a town with a population of five thousand, I expect there’ll be a lot of ones. One traffic light. One bank. One upscale restaurant. And now, one really out of place family: me and Dad.

“Why don’t you go explore? Find some kids your age.” Dad grabs his briefcase and car keys and heads to the front door. Off to work again. As usual, I have to handle everything. At least in New York, we had a maid. I doubt anyone around here has hired help. The people who live in Ashlan Falls
are
the hired help.

“I saw some buses this morning, which means school’s still going on here.” Another thing to look forward to: small town education.

“Well you could always fill your day by unpacking for us.” Dad waves, leaving me standing in the middle of the living room, surrounded by boxes.

“Screw this.” I grab my leather jacket, not that I need it. It’s eighty degrees outside, but the jacket is something from my old life—the one I’m dying to get back to. I fist it and walk out the door, leaving it to shut on its own—or not. I don’t think we have to worry about crime in a town where everyone knows everyone else’s name.

I have no clue where I’m going. Dad and I only have the one car we bought before we came here. I’m not about to be the lonely new guy wandering around, so I take out my cell and call Anton.

“Hey, city boy. I was wondering when I’d hear from you. Oh wait, you’re a country boy now.” Anton laughs.

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen. I don’t care how long I’m in this hellhole.”

“So hop in a taxi and get your ass back here.”

“Believe me, if there was a taxi around, I’d head back to New York in a heartbeat, but Ashlan Falls isn’t a taxi service kind of town.” Screw the heat. I put my jacket on and breathe in the scent. I can almost smell my old life. Almost. But the damn country air is suffocating me.

“That bad, huh?”

“Worse.”

“Any hotties in sight?”

“Not yet. Did you know they’re still in school here?”

“No way. This late in June? Where the hell did you move to?”

“Don’t get me started.” I find the high school. The
one-story
high school. “Oh, you are not going to believe this bullshit.”

“What now?”

“The school is the size of a Starbucks. No way can a school this small have a decent track team. I can already hear Dad. ‘Nothing wrong with being a big fish in a small pond.’ It’s his answer for everything lately.”

“Sucks for you, man. Too bad your dad had to get transferred.”

“He didn’t
have
to. There’s only one reason we moved here, and it has nothing to do with his law firm opening a new office.” Dad volunteered to get the new building up and running because he
wants
to be here. “Mom begged Dad for years to move out to the country. She grew up in a little town like this one.” She had every intention of going back, too, but she met Dad in law school and suddenly her dream of becoming a small-town lawyer was pushed aside. She moved to New York because Dad wanted to. She agreed to raise me in the city because Dad wanted to. She got in the taxi that day because Dad wanted her to. If he hadn’t asked her to go on that interview, to give up a position she was already settled into…

I can’t think of Mom. If I focus on her, I’ll end up hating Dad, and she wouldn’t want that. She wouldn’t want me to be at all the way I am now. Dad calls it bitter, but I hate that word. “Sometimes you have to sacrifice for the ones you love,” Mom always said. She sacrificed everything for Dad and me. Everything. And she was repaid by getting sideswiped by the very same lawyer she was supposed to interview with. Life isn’t fair.

“Listen man, I feel for you. I really do, but Stephanie just got here.”

Stephanie? Must be a new one. “Later, man.”

“Later.”

I pocket my phone again and keep walking.

“You must be new in town,” an elderly man says as I pass the outdoor café where he’s eating breakfast. “Never seen you before. You here visiting?”

I wish. “No, my dad and I just moved in.”

“Henry Baker’s the name. I have breakfast here every morning, so I’m sure we’ll see a lot of each other.”

He seems nice enough, but I can’t imagine eating in the same place every day. In New York, there were ten different bagel shops on my way to school. I doubt this café has decent bagels.

“What’s your name, son?”

Son? Yeah, Ashlan Falls is definitely your typical backwoods town. “Logan.” The guy tilts his head, leaning his ear toward me. It takes me a moment to realize he’s waiting for me to tell him my last name. “Schmidt.”

“Logan Schmidt.” He scrunches up his face as if he’s committing my name to memory. “Your dad that big shot lawyer from New York City?”

Wonderful. News has already spread around town. Dad and I will probably be freakin’ celebrities by noon. “That’s him.” Henry tilts his ear toward me again. This time I pick up on the hint right away. “Simon Schmidt.”

“Simon Schmidt.” Déjà vu washes over me as Henry commits Dad’s name to memory, too.

“I have to get going.” I point up the road as if I have some destination in mind. And I do: anywhere but here.

“Nice to meet you, Logan Schmidt. Look forward to seeing you again.” Henry salutes, making me wonder if he’s a war veteran.

“Same to you, Mr.…” Damn, I forgot his last name already.

Henry taps the side of his head. “Henry Baker.” He scrunches up his face as he says the name, like he’s showing me his little mind trick.

I nod. “Bye, Mr. Baker.”

“Ah!” Henry smiles and points at me. “See, it works!”

Yeah, this guy needs to cut down on the caffeine. He salutes me again, and I can’t help myself. I salute back. When in Rome and all that. But before I can walk away, a middle-aged woman comes out of the café carrying a pot of coffee.

“Henry, who’s your friend?”

Friend? Why not? Apparently I’m one of
them
now. Why not be friends with a crazy old man? This is what my life is coming to.

“Logan Schmidt.” He points to me and laughs. “See, I did it again!” Wow, this guy is really big on remembering names.

The woman walks over and puts her hand on my shoulder. “Sit, sit.” She pulls out a chair for me. I can’t remember anyone ever pulling out a chair for me. In New York, when people pull out your chair, it’s to watch you fall on your ass. “Coffee?” She holds up the pot.

I turn over the mug in front of me. “Sure, I guess.”

While she fills it to the rim, she looks me up and down. “Take your coat off and stay for a while. I’m making Western omelets, and I’ve got one with your name on it. I’m Monique, by the way.”

“Monique Lawry,” Henry says. This time he taps my head as if
I
remembered her full name. His hand is really warm, probably from all the coffee.

I want to get out of this crazy café, but my stomach rumbles at the thought of an omelet. I can suffer through a few more minutes with Henry. “An omelet sounds great.” I smile at Monique, and she pats my shoulder before heading back into the kitchen.

Henry proceeds to tell me all about his military training. Turns out he never actually fought in a war. He took a blow to the head—surprise, surprise—during training and was sent home. Now at least I understand why his little memory game is so important to him. I can’t help thinking of Mom again as I look at Henry. Just like her, he tried to do something good, tried to sacrifice for the people he cared about—in his case, his country—and he was hurt for it. No, life isn’t fair at all.

Monique returns with the biggest omelet I’ve ever seen. Apparently not everything in small towns is small. I dig right in, savoring every bite. In New York, we had a cook. Mom and Dad both worked through dinner. It was the price they paid for making so much money. Phoebe was a good cook, but Monique is amazing. “This is delicious,” I say with my mouth full.

She laughs and refills my coffee. Fifteen minutes later, I’m full and feeling less annoyed by all things Ashlan Falls—at least for the moment. I grab my wallet from my jacket, but Monique holds up her hand. “On me. Welcome to the family.”

Okay, I’ll definitely be coming back to Monique’s café. I nod and throw a tip on the table. “Same time tomorrow?” I ask Henry.

“Same time tomorrow.” He scrunches up his face, committing our plans to memory. I salute him and walk off.

Even though I’m stuffed, I start jogging. Running is like breathing to me. It feels natural. I keep the pace slow so I don’t end up seeing Monique’s omelet from another angle. After a few minutes, I pass a sign marking the historic falls straight ahead. What the hell? It’s not like I have anything better to do. Might as well check out the mighty Ashlan Falls; I don’t have high hopes, though. If they’re anything like the rest of this place, they’ll probably be smaller than my shower.