Unremembered (9 page)

I don’t really. I glance around, hoping something will feel the slightest bit familiar. It doesn’t. I’m not sure why I keep thinking that eventually
something
will
trigger a response – a memory – when so far nothing has. ‘I guess I just wanted to talk to anyone who might have seen me get on the plane.’

Cody’s forehead crinkles. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, I was supposedly on Freedom Airlines flight 121 to Tokyo. And I want to authenticate that.’

‘Whoa, whoa,’ he says, hoisting both hands in the air. ‘You’re telling me you dragged me all the way here to confirm something that the news has already confirmed a
thousand times?’

The sidewalk is crowded. People come and go, lugging large bags behind them. I pull the brim of my borrowed cap further down my face.

‘How do I know they’re telling the truth?’ I ask Cody.

‘What makes you think they’re not?’

I consider telling Cody about the reporter in the crowd and the boy at the supermarket. About the things he said. ‘
You were never on that plane and you know it.
’ But I
decide it’s not something I want to repeat yet. At least not until I have more evidence.

‘It’s just a feeling,’ I tell him. ‘There are still things that don’t add up. Why was I not on the passenger manifest?’

This doesn’t appear to concern Cody. ‘My dad said it was a computer glitch.’

‘What if it wasn’t?’ I challenge. ‘What if they’re lying?’

Cody takes a moment to ponder this. ‘Why would they lie about
that
? If anything they would lie and say that you
were
on the manifest. To cover their own corporate
butts.’

I can’t decipher that phrase but I let it go. ‘I just need to know for sure.’

He hikes his backpack up his shoulder and breathes a heavy sigh. ‘Fine. Let’s go see if we can find someone to talk to.’

We enter through a set of automatic doors and stand in line at the international ticket counter for Freedom Airlines. I recognize the logo on the wall. It’s the same one that was on the
piece of plane debris that I watched being pulled from the ocean. I half expect myself to shudder upon seeing it up close, but I don’t.

When we get to the front of the line, a woman beckons us forward from behind the counter. I follow Cody as he approaches her, keeping my eyes downcast.

‘Good morning,’ he says, after clearing his throat. I’m amused at how different his voice sounds. As though he’s purposely trying to deepen it.

I’m glad I asked Cody for help. He’s proved himself to be a true asset today. Even if he does claim I hustled him into coming.

‘Good morning,’ the woman echoes with a welcoming smile. ‘Are you checking in?’

Without looking up, I give Cody a nudge and he says, ‘No. Actually we were hoping to speak to someone about flight 121. You know, the one that crashed.’

Her smile vanishes instantly. ‘I’m sorry. We’re not authorized to speak about that.’

Cody turns to me and shrugs. ‘You heard her. They can’t talk about it. Let’s go.’

He starts to leave but I snag his shirt between my fingers and twist him back around. He groans and tries again. ‘We were just hoping to talk to someone who maybe was there when the flight
boarded or maybe someone who was working the counter that day.’

The woman’s face tightens even more. ‘I told you. I’m not authorized to talk to anyone about that flight. If you’re not checking in or purchasing a ticket, I’m
going to have to ask you to leave.’

Cody sighs and reaches over to push up the brim of my hat, exposing my face.

He doesn’t have to say anything. The loud gasp tells me the woman clearly recognizes me. ‘It’s . . . you.’ Her voice is hushed. Broken.

I nod.

‘What are you doing here?’ she asks anxiously.

‘I really need to speak to someone about that flight.’

She shakes her head adamantly. ‘No. You need to leave. Now.’

‘Were you there?’ I press on, ignoring her warning. ‘Did you happen to see me get on the plane? Can you confirm that I was on the flight?’

‘I told you. I can’t talk about this. You shouldn’t even be here.’

‘Please.’ My voice starts to quiver. ‘I’m just trying to answer
one
of the million questions that are piling up in my head. I’m . . . lost. And frustrated.
And I don’t know what to believe. I have to talk to someone.’

The woman grabs a nearby phone and starts punching buttons. ‘I’m calling Security.’

‘And
that
would be our cue to leave,’ Cody says, wrapping his fingers around my elbow and tugging me away from the counter.

‘No,’ I protest, yanking my arm free. I turn back to the woman at the counter. ‘Will someone just talk to me? Please?’

She ignores me, speaking brusquely into the phone. ‘We have a situation at position 12. Requesting assistance immediately.’

Cody gives me a grave look. ‘We either leave, or we get thrown out. And trust me, option two is going to cause a much bigger scene than option one. So unless you want your face all over
the news again, I suggest we get the hell out of here.’

I really don’t want to deal with another media circus so I surrender with a sigh, pull my cap down over my eyebrows again, and follow Cody out the door until we’re back on the busy
kerb.

I collapse on to a metal bench and clutch my head in my hands.

Cody slowly lowers down next to me. He pats me awkwardly on the back three times before folding his hands in his lap. ‘Sorry,’ he offers.

I lift my head. ‘What do we do now?’

‘I don’t think we have much of a choice. We should probably just head home.’

‘But I have to know.’

‘Violet,’ he says gently, ‘I don’t think there’s anything
to
know. Are you sure you’re not simply in denial or something?’

I wish I was. I wish I could deny everything that boy said to me. Every doubt in my mind. But I can’t.

‘Excuse me?’ I hear a delicate voice say. Cody and I both look up to see a petite blonde woman standing next to us. She’s dressed in the same navy-blue uniform that the woman
at the Freedom Airlines ticket counter was wearing.

Upon seeing my half-shadowed face, she sucks in a large gulp of air. ‘Wow, it really is you.’

‘Can we help you?’ Cody asks defensively.

She glances surreptitiously over both shoulders. ‘I overheard you. At the ticket counter.’

‘Yeah, what of it?’ Cody demands.

She seems oblivious to his petulant tone. ‘I’m Brittany,’ she says, sounding anxious. She touches her hairline. Then her ear. Then her mouth. She chews on a fingernail.
Finally, after another peek over her shoulder, she whispers, ‘I was the gate agent for flight 121. I scanned all the boarding passes of the passengers getting on the plane.’

My eyes open wide and I launch to my feet. ‘So you saw me get on? You can confirm that I was on the plane when it went down?’

Cody stands up and offers Brittany an apologetic glance. ‘She’s a little paranoid,’ he explains. ‘I imagine it’s typical of amnesiacs. Her memory is completely gone
and for some reason she’s come up with this crazy idea that maybe possibly somehow for whatever far-fetched reason, she was never on the plane. I tried to tell her, of course, that this is
ludicrous. But she needs to hear it from someone else, I guess. So if you could put her mind at ease and tell her that—’

‘That’s the thing,’ Brittany says, closing her eyes for a moment. ‘I can’t.’

‘I know, I know,’ Cody continues, waving his hand in the air. ‘You’ve been given strict orders by your supervisor to keep quiet and not talk about—’

‘I mean,’ she interrupts again, her voice barely audible, ‘I can’t confirm that you were on the plane.’

‘What?’ Cody blurts out.

‘Shh,
please
,’ she urges, glancing nervously at a group of travellers who are hurrying past. ‘I’m . . . I could get in serious trouble for talking to you. I
haven’t told anyone about this because it doesn’t make any sense. I know that. So I’ve been trying to forget about it. But then I saw you there at the ticket counter. I heard what
you were asking . . .’

A knot forms in my stomach.

‘I don’t remember you,’ she says heavily. ‘I’ve
tried
to remember you, I swear. Every night I think about it. I play back the whole day in my mind. Over
and over again. But you’re just not there.’ She pauses to suck in a juddering breath. ‘I’m sorry but I – I don’t remember seeing you board the plane.’

‘Well, yeah,’ Cody argues, clearly unconvinced. ‘But there were probably like two hundred people on that plane. Not to mention all the other flights you board every day. You
can’t be expected to remember
everyone
.’

Brittany shifts her weight. She reaches up to touch her hair again and I now notice that her hands are shaking. ‘Yes, but when they showed your photo on the news, you were so . . .
beautiful . . . I mean, simply
breathtaking
. And your eyes . . . I – I . . .’ Her voice trails off as her gaze flickers nervously to mine. The longer she waits in silence, the
more I worry she won’t ever finish her sentence.

But then, finally, she bites her lip and leans towards me. Her eyes are watery and full of fear when she whispers, ‘I just
know
I would have remembered a face like
that.’

Cody has not stopped talking since we left the airport. I
think the gate agent upset him. Or rather, what she said. His speech has changed. It’s faster.
His voice is higher. He’s using his hands a lot more than he normally does. His eyes are dilated.

‘There are probably five hundred reasons why that woman doesn’t remember you,’ he says as we ride the bus back to the station. ‘All of which, might I add, are a thousand
times more believable than the completely implausible idea that you weren’t on the plane.’

I’m feeling just as anxious and confused as Cody is but I keep my reaction on the inside. Along with my thoughts. So I can try to sort through them and make sense of this.

‘For instance,’ Cody continues passionately, ‘she could have been called away for a moment while the plane was boarding. And another gate agent stepped in. And
that’s
when you boarded the plane. You could have been wearing another hat.’ He flicks the one on my head. ‘Like this. You could have been looking down when you boarded.
I mean, really, who looks the gate agent right in the eye when they get on a plane? I certainly don’t. And she’s been through
a lot
this past week. One of the flights she
boarded
crashed
into the Pacific Ocean. And everyone died!’ He glances briefly at me. ‘Sorry. I mean,
almost
everyone. But that has to affect a person’s memory a
little. I mean, she’s not exactly the most reliable witness.’

Cody is right. Just because that gate agent never saw me get on the plane doesn’t mean I wasn’t on it.

It doesn’t mean the boy in the parking lot was right.

Although that would certainly explain a lot.

Why I survived when no one else did.

Why I wasn’t on the passenger manifest.

If it’s true that I was never on the plane, then that would mean there was no glitch. Except the one that still holds my memories captive.

‘Here’s another plausible explanation,’ Cody says, oblivious to my silence. ‘You’re actually a terrorist. You snuck into the baggage compartment and were planning
to blow up the plane. She never saw you
board
the plane because you never did. You were a stowaway. And the airline is blaming a computer glitch to keep the whole thing
hush-hush.’

The baggage compartment?

Is that where I was? Did I sneak on to the plane? Am I a terrorist?

My mind struggles to process the barrage of new questions piling up on top of all the still-unanswered ones that have already amassed in my brain.

Did the boy at the supermarket
know
that the gate agent wouldn’t remember me? Does he work for the airline? Is that who he claims is looking for me?

‘Seriously, what is she implying?’ Cody asks. ‘That you just happened to be floating in the middle of the ocean in the
exact
same spot that a plane crashed down? Or
that maybe the plane crashed right on top of a boat – or raft – that you just
happened
to have been riding on.’

I can tell from the scornful quality of his voice that he’s doing that sarcasm thing again.

‘Oh! Oh! I’ve got it!’ Cody says, clapping his hands together. A few other passengers on the bus look up. I glimpse nervously behind me and take notice of a tall, thin,
middle-aged man with fiery red hair and a matching beard. He gazes at me intensely with his head cocked to one side. It’s making me nervous. I pull my cap further down, bow my head and turn
back around.

‘The plane crashed
and
, at the exact same time, you magically just . . .
fell
from the sky!’ Cody rants. ‘You’re a fallen angel, that’s it. Why
didn’t I think of it before?’ He slaps himself on the forehead. ‘That would certainly explain the face.’

I’m not sure he’s even talking to me any more. He’s not looking at me. He appears to be speaking more to himself at this point. But as jumbled as Cody’s chatter may be,
he’s touched upon a very important point.

If I wasn’t on the plane, why was I found near the crash site?

The odds that I just happened to be at the same place at the same time are too slim to even calculate. Which means there’s another explanation.

One that I’m determined to find.

‘Uh-oh,’ I hear Cody say. His voice has shifted. It sounds normal again. I glance over to see him frowning at his cellphone.

‘What’s wrong?’ I ask. They’re the first words I’ve said aloud since we left the airport.

‘The parental inquisition. They’re calling.’ He shows me the phone and I read the screen.

Call from Home.

And it looks like they’ve already called six times.’ He winces. ‘Obviously they’ve noticed that we’re gone. Should I answer it?’