Watching Time (Novel): Chapter 1 (Lost Memories)

It was after they had been driving an hour that the idea of turning away from the window even occurred to Myra, but she quickly dismissed the thought. To look away from the window is to either face the road ahead or look at Henry Lateen. Either way, I’d rather stare out this window.

          Staring out the window wasn’t pleasant. She had no clue when Henry had decided to take a “scenic route”, but it led straight through a city that featured crumbling buildings and poverty-stricken children crying or searching for some form of nutrition. The town seemed to go on and on endlessly…

          Eventually, Myra gave in, and whirled to face Henry. “Why are you taking this route?” She made sure she said “you” instead of “we” so he knew that she didn’t like this sequence of events one bit.

          Henry seemed to hesitate for a split second before answering. “I guess I got a little turned around,” he admitted. “Our GPS has us arriving in the next couple hours, though, so we haven’t lost much time at all.”

          Myra angrily made a mental note of his use of “our” and turned back to her window. Maybe she still couldn’t face the future, but she could face the past.

          It’s not fair that my parents were killed.

          It’s not fair that I was separated from my sister.

          It’s not fair that I have to move to another state.

          It’s not fair that I’m going to have to live with a complete stranger.

          She groaned a little and continued with her train of “not fair” statements to the point where she couldn’t even comprehend what she was seeing. Not fair, not fair, not fair…

“Here we are,” Henry finally announced, and Myra groggily opened her eyes and stared, shocked, and the property before her. It was practically a mansion. She had never seen a mansion before, so for all she knew, it was a mansion. “We actually managed to avoid traffic, so we’re here earlier than he is. He should be off work in five minutes, and here in another ten.”

          “Fifteen minutes of…doing what?” Myra asked in awe.

          “I’m not sure,” Henry shrugged. “Perhaps…explore the garden, maybe? I only really know what he told me, not exactly what the actual schedule is.”

          Myra unbuckled herself and exited the car. She took off for the garden, which had been left unlocked, and began to wander through it. She didn’t particularly like gardens, and preferred to stick with more adventurous scenery, but she found it amazing how thrilling it was when she didn’t have anything else to do.

          And she soon found herself face-to-face with an old man.

          Or, at least, he looked old at first glance. He had a youthful expression, and didn’t have any wrinkles, but rather wore a thin white beard and had a neatly combed head. He wore a black suit and a silver tie.

          “And who might you be?” he asked in a heavy British accent. Myra cringed, remembering suddenly how much she hated that accent.

          “She’s Myra Hammington,” Henry answered for her, entering behind her. “She’s the newest adopted orphan of Earl Hammington the Third.”

          “My name is Myra Christian,” Myra countered. “I am not changing my last name! That’s final!”

          “I’m afraid, my dear, that legally, you are now Myra Hammington,” the British man told her. “I don’t like that name one bit more than you do. Perhaps, though, the issue is not wanting to let go? We could call you Myra Jewel Christian Hammington.”

          Myra didn’t like the idea of having four words to her name, but she figured it was as close as she could get to maintaining her identity, so she nodded reluctantly. “You’re Earl Hammington the…uh…Third?” Myra inquired, wrinkling her nose.

          “Yes, that I am,” the man grinned. “But I look more like my mother than my father, who was Earl Hammington the Second. How old are you?”

          This question threw Myra off balance. How can you adopt someone you don’t know the age of? She cleared her throat, which was suddenly feeling very tight. “Fourteen.”

          “Naomi’s fourteen, too,” Earl chuckled.

          “Naomi?” Myra asked. She immediately realized what Earl was doing. He was trying to make her curious enough to forget about how upset she was.

          “My other daughter,” Earl told her. He hesitated a little, and it seemed like he was going to cry, but his expression just cleared. “She’s hanging out with a friend of hers, named Mark. Sometimes I think they hang out too much, but considering how he possibly saved her life, I don’t care.”

          “Mark saved your daughter’s life?”

          “Long story,” Earl shrugged, and then grinned. “Why don’t we get you settled and then you can go find Naomi and Mark? Introduce yourself?”

          The idea of making friends was the farthest from her mind, but to her surprise, she agreed.

         

Mark laughed at Naomi’s joke, but he inwardly cringed. She’s getting worse.

          They settled into another awkward silence. Mark worried about these. It just felt like they were running out of things to say, and he wondered what the end result might be. “Excited for your new sister?” he asked her.

          “Not really,” Naomi admitted. “I did some research, and it turns out, adopted kids tend to be more emotionally challenged. I’m not sure I’m ready for a sister who might throw things at me, especially since it feels like she’s replacing Mother.”

          Mark closed his eyes and tried to remember Naomi’s mother, but the memory was getting more and more distant. He knew that, soon, he’d forget her entirely. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Still, if it turns out she’s good at nerf fights, I can’t say I’d be disappointed to have her around.”

          “Oh, trust me, you’re doomed at nerf fights,” Naomi promised, a grin breaking out on her face.

          I hope she doesn’t forget to laugh, anytime soon.

          Once again, an awkward silence fell over them, and this time, it was interrupted by a third person.

          “Am I…interrupting something?” a girl’s voice asked. Mark immediately scrambled to his feet and faced the newcomer, who had deep brown hair that looked like it hadn’t been taken care of for a while, and shining blue eyes that seemed to tell many books of sorrow. She was a little shorter than he was, but that meant she was taller than average. Her green tee-shirt looked dirty and worn, as if she hadn’t changed in several days, and her blue jeans had tears on both her knees, and he could tell from the scabs that showed behind the holes that it wasn't a stylistic decision.

          “Not really,” Mark shrugged. “I’m Mark, this is Naomi. You’re her new sister?”

          The newcomer immediately went rigid and her eyes stared at him defiantly. Where she once seemed tired, she now seemed on guard. Defensive. “None of your business,” she retorted.

          “That would be a yes, then,” Naomi giggled.

          Mark groaned. “No, don’t get mad at her!” Mark told the newcomer. “She hasn’t slept well, recently, so she’s giddy!”

          The newcomer glared at Mark and Naomi. “Look, I’m only here because I was told to meet you guys. I’m not happy about this one bit, and I don’t plan on having any miraculous emotional changes.”

          “We’re not asking for any, we just don’t want to die quite yet,” Mark told her. He could tell that, while she may be a potential friend, she was going to be off-limits for the next several days. Maybe the next several weeks, too.

          “I guess we can agree on that much,” the newcomer admitted. “I’m Myra.”

          “Nice to meet you, Myra,” Mark told her with a smile. She glared at him.

          “I’m going back home,” she muttered abruptly. “You two have fun with…whatever you’re doing.” She turned and left.

          “That could have gone better, but it also could have gone worse,” Mark commented.

          “Worse is more likely,” Naomi nodded. She giggled some more.

          I know I like it when she laughs, but maybe she could forget to laugh whenever Myra enters the room.

Myra flopped onto her bed and began sobbing immediately. How could I treat my own sister and her boyfriend that way? I’m a monster!

          She heard a knock on her door and she ignored it, and kept sobbing into her pillow. “Myra, are you in there?” It was Earl. She stuffed herself under her mountain of pillows, and cried until she fell asleep.

When Naomi got home, she felt exhausted. Mark had challenged her to a race to her house. Mark had beaten her, of course, but she had at least tried to beat him, and because of that, she had worn herself out.

          So one thing she had hoped wouldn’t happen was her father approaching her. “May I just go to bed?” she complained.

          He hesitated before nodding. “Sure. It is late, I guess.”

          Naomi sighed in relief and shuffled off to her bedroom. Collapsing onto her bed, she began to envision what the future might be like, and found it was likely to be much darker than she had anticipated, thanks to Myra.