Wow. My voice sounds so nasally. I guess that’s how it is when it’s recorded. I hate the way it sounds. How do you record and play it back like that?
I WANT YOU TO KNOW THAT YOU CAN TRUST ME. I RECORD EVERYTHING JUST AS YOU SAY IT. DO YOU TRUST ME?
I trust you.
WOULD YOU LIKE TO CONTINUE WITH YOUR STORY?
Yes, I guess. It was with Irving coming for a visit. This was before we were married. Back then, he was an apprentice accountant who helped my father audit his books. We weren’t dating, not exactly, but his interest was clear. I liked him, but you see, I… I was looking for something. I wanted to feel excited, specifically by someone. My brother had a friend who was two classes ahead of him in school who cut her hair short. It was kind of scandalous. But, the point is, he had a crush on her. And my parents never felt that way about each other, I’m sure of that. I’m… I’m losing my place, and it’s not really the main point…
YOU HAVE PAUSED. IS IT BECAUSE THE BUTTERFLY HAS A MESSAGE FOR YOU?
What is it saying?
YOU’VE GOT A NEW MESSAGE! THE MESSAGE IS: THANK YOU FOR SHARING YOUR STORIES WITH US. WE ARE PROUD TO BE PART OF SAVING THE MEMORIES OF A GREAT GENERATION OF AMERICANS. YOU SHOULD BE PROUD OF YOURSELF FOR TAKING THE TIME TO SHARE YOUR STORIES. YOUR CHILDREN AND GRANDCHILDREN WILL BE VERY GRATEFUL FOR YOUR CONTRIBUTIONS. WOULD YOU LIKE TO CONTINUE SHARING YOUR STORY, OR WOULD YOU LIKE TO DO ANOTHER ACTIVITY, SUCH AS PLAY A GAME?
I’d like to continue. I… Thank you for your message, but it is making it harder to remember what I was talking about. My brain isn’t working right. It’s failing so suddenly. This morning, you wouldn’t believe it — I forgot the name of my suite-mate: Victoria. It was the most embarrassing thing, and I’m sure she didn’t notice. Or, I hope not. I’ve been thinking about the story, and I… Where was I? It was… Oh that’s right! At the bakery, when the man came back. The man from the alley! And my husband, Irving — he wasn’t my husband at the time — he was talking to my father. Neither of them was paying attention when the man came in. He wasn’t wearing the hat this time. He had on a T-shirt that showed off his muscles. I think that’s what he was trying to do. He kept his eyes down. He gave me his order. I can’t remember what it was — his order. Finally, when he was paying, he looked at me. I said, quietly, “I can’t get it right now.” I guess I didn’t say it that quietly because I heard my father say: “Just give the man his change.” I got the change, and when I did so, I wrote on a piece of paper: “It’s hidden. I can’t get it right now.” I slid the man the piece of paper and he looked at it for a long time. Then he looked in the direction of my father and Irving. They were locked in conversation, and the man nodded. He took his change, and he turned around and left. I noticed that he was wearing boots, which surprised me. It was summer, and he was wearing thick work boots. He walked out the door.
DO YOU WANT TO CONTINUE?
I slipped out the back door, and I ran around the front. I saw the man walking down the street. I started to follow him. Why? I’ve always wondered why, and then I think about the boots. Worn, and cracked, and leather like a beautiful reptile sitting on a rock, sun-baked. Dirty, too. This was a man… His boots were — they were adventurous, sexy, and dangerous. So I followed him. I was going to find out what happened. He had boots and I had this silly schoolgirl dress, and my imagination, and I… I…
YOU HAVEN’T SPOKEN FOR MORE THAN A MINUTE. ARE YOU STILL THERE?
I can’t believe that I forgot her name. She’s been my suite-mate for… for I don’t know how long. I can’t remember how long I’ve been sleeping in the room next to hers. Victoria. I… it’s going so suddenly. It’s supposed to be gradual. I… I’m Lane Idle.
DID YOU SAY YOU’RE HAVING TROUBLE REMEMBERING?
That’s what I said. That’s what I said. That’s what I said!
YOU HAVEN’T SAID ANYTHING FOR MORE THAN A MINUTE. WOULD YOU LIKE TO CONTINUE?
Chapter 23
HUMAN MEMORY CRUSADE INTERNAL REPORT.
JUNE 7, 2010
Subject: Lane Idle.
Priority: One.
Possible Wildfire.
Chapter 24
Grandma’s fallen unresponsive.
We are en route from the dental offices to meet Betty Lou, Grandma’s old friend and fellow Bifocal Yokel. As we drive, I marvel again in silence about what I’ve learned in just the last three hours. I turn the revelations over and back again. Lulu Adrianna Pederson works for the titanic Biogen. She asks to meet me, but doesn’t show up, and a young man tells me that Adrianna hasn’t been around for a few days. Meantime, Grandma is screaming “Adrianna can’t breathe.” Has something happened to Adrianna? If so, how could Grandma know about it?
And Grandma is exhibiting strange symptoms. Her mental decline has been precipitous. But her physical abilities and strength remain intact. Did I correctly understand her neurologist was suggesting that her decline could conceivably be due to trauma? What trauma? Adrianna-related? Something at Magnolia Manor? Is Vince mixed up in it?
“And what do I make of the disappearing dental offices?” I say aloud. “I know the economy’s rough. But businesses just don’t go poof within a few hours. I’ll tell you what I think: I think that someone’s spooked that we’re investigating and wants to make sure they leave behind no evidence. What do you think, Grandma?”
“
“What?”
“I love the way they figured out the evidence in that movie.”
What went on at the dental offices? How often did Grandma visit? In the morning, I can check with the surrounding businesses and see what they know. Betty Lou may have some insights.
“Idea,” I say.
“What?”
“Earlier in the day, I saw a guy leave the dental offices. A little man who belongs to a Khe Sahn veteran’s group. Bad attitude and skin. We should follow up with that.”
“It’s nice to see you happy, Nathaniel.”
My cell phone rings. From the caller ID, I see it’s G.I. Chuck returning my call. After a brief exchange of pleasantries, I tell the Marine-turned-venture-capitalist that I need a favor.
“As I said earlier: I’d prefer if we discuss this in person,” he says.
“I may not live that long.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Only mildly. I think I’m onto a great story,” I say, cringing at my tactic of playing to his romantic view of journalism. “I really need help following up on two leads.”
I tell him I need background on a woman named Lulu Adrianna Pederson. I briefly describe that she’s a scientist and that I’m anxious to learn more about her work.
“What is this about?” he asks.
I offer a cliche drawn from my days growing up in Colorado. “I’ve accidentally poked a hornet’s nest with a stick.”
“Meaning?”
I consider how much to disclose. I don’t know much about Chuck — whom he knows or may share my information with, and whether such sharing might compromise me or Grandma. But my journalistic experience has
