“Five.”
Mom graduated university. A part of me was relieved, because I hoped that meant we would return home. Spoiler alert: we didn’t. We just moved into a bigger apartment and Mom bought a minivan. There was always so much space in that thing, but Mom used it for art supplies instead of road trips. We didn’t end up going home; in fact, Mom just kept getting busier and busier. That summer she started getting commissions for a gallery in Ottawa, so she spent a lot of time creating while I was spending more time wishing on stars I couldn’t see. I would spend most nights on the roof of our new place, trying to sketch out the universe in a new journal. It wasn’t like back home, back when I could easily look up and draw a night sky full of stars. In Halifax, I was just laying on a rooftop looking into loneliness.
“Six.”
Cassie’s entire family moved to Toronto because her Dad was offered a government job there. That was a hard year; without Cassie I was basically friendless. Meeting new people always felt overwhelming and I was way too shy to socialize. I thought about Clay a lot, but I had a feeling he was gone. There was no way that he would stick around waiting for me at that point. Each school day felt like a get in, get out scenario. I was good at keeping a low profile, but its not like people cared about what I had to say anyways.
“Seven.”
That year Mom managed to make waves across the country. She was shortlisted for a pretentious visual arts award, and actually ended up winning. She was awarded fifteen grand, and I remember our mailbox flooded with fan mail. Mom was getting commission gig after commission gig, which made life pretty easy for a while, even though I didn’t get to see her too much. I was getting old enough to hold down the fort while she was away. But of course, that made me feel pretty lonely after a while.
“Eight.”
We found out Nan was showing early signs of memory loss. I didn’t hit me right away, because, to be honest, I didn’t really know what “memory loss” meant. Mom was worried, but she was still busy travelling the country and we couldn’t go back home. I spent even more time alone in the apartment. I guess I found a lot of comfort in TV. I came across the old sitcoms Nan and I watched when I was kid, which led me to ask Mom if I could call and talk to Nan. She told me not to. I didn’t know why, but now I think she might have been scared that Nan wouldn’t remember me.
“Nine.”
For the first time ever, I asked about my family’s history. Mom said Grampy was from England, and that he came to Canada when he was a boy. His mother died shortly after they arrived, and my heart broke when I heard that, thinking how alone he must have felt. Mom told me that we have a lot of family overseas, but Grampy never figured out how to contact them. I wondered if they ever tried to contact him. It was also my first year of high school, and it didn’t take long for people to figure out who my mom was. That’s when everything changed. I was no longer Anna; I was now Anna Brooks. Everyone in my high school knew who I was, and every student who wanted to pursue the arts invited me to their parties. But each party I went to, I felt more alone than ever. Then Mom was offered a professor position at NSCAD, which she took in a heartbeat. She was so excited to have a stable income. It made things a lot easier—she no longer had to worry about which commissions would pay rent. But my heart was still aiming to hit back home eventually.
“Ten,” I whispered. “I’m home.”
Most my life, I’ve been surrounded by shadows and silhouettes. Smoke, mirrors, stage lights, and sound effects. I always believed it to be magic. I’ve spent way too long trying to draw a line between reality and fantasy, and for once, I just wanted someone, anyone to dissolve the mystery that has been my life. Maybe I’d never met my father, or come to terms with Mom. Maybe I’d never have a meaningful conversation with my grandmother again, and maybe I’d never finish school. But maybe I could figure this one thing out. Maybe I could be in control, just for once in my life. But I found him, he was the time traveller, and I was the seeker. And we would unravel the truth for what it really is.
Chapter 8
“Why did you skip class to go kick over mannequins?” I heard Tia’s voice as I shut my locker the next morning. She was leaning against the one next to mine with a raised eyebrow.
Shit, I thought. Of course Taylor told Tia I was at the mall.
“Oh. Uh,” I stammered, not making eye contact. “I, um, left most of my clothes in Halifax…I honestly just needed a bit of a wardrobe update.”
Tia narrowed her eyes. “Yeah, with men’s dress shirts that are two times your size?” Tia looked me in the eye. “What’s going on, Anna? You know you can talk to me. And you could borrow my clothes
