“Your grandfather worked so hard for everything he accomplished here,” Mom was saying now. “He worked so hard for me; he worked so hard for you. I don’t want you to go down this road. I don’t want you to let him down.”
That’s when I lost it.
“Hold up!” I yelled. “Me letting him down?! You’re the one who hasn’t visited in years. You never even saw him before he died!” I couldn’t contain myself. “Then you have the nerve to hold me to some higher expectation after taking me away from my hometown. Bringing me along to Halifax so you could study. I was fine here, Mom! I would have been fine, but no. You took me along so you could say you did it all by yourself while having a daughter!” I knew that last part wasn’t fair, but I was done being nice. “You didn’t even take into consideration my feelings when we left. You just left, and I never had a say!”
I didn’t know where that energy came from, but I wasn’t backing down.
“I’m not just some plot device for your story, Mom. I’m my own person. Now we’re suddenly back here, and we’re supposed to act like everything is normal? Are we supposed to act like Grampy being gone is normal? Am I supposed to pull up my bootstraps and move on? Don’t you think it hurts being in the school where he taught? Don’t you think it hurts having Nan treat me like a stranger? Is that supposed to be normal? And do you think that I’m supposed to pretend my dad doesn’t still live in this town? Or do you just edit him out because it’s easier for you, rather than having a real conversation with your daughter?”
I could see the emotions on Mom’s face shift: from angry to frustrated to disappointed to just…lost. I had never seen her like that before. I didn’t know what else to say, I don’t think there was anything else I could say after that. Who did she think she was? How was she acting any different than Nan did when Mom broke curfew in the memory?
“Annaka, that’s not a line you cross.” Mom crossed her arms.
“No. I’m just supposed to pretend the line isn’t even there, right? I’m just supposed to accept things the way they are.” I threw my hands up in exasperation. “We’ve been here for weeks, and you haven’t even toyed with the idea of me meeting my dad.”
That caused her to pause.
“Some people are better left in the past,” Mom said quietly.
“Well he was never in mine to begin with!” I shot back. “Where is he? Where is he, huh?”
Mom shook her head. “I’m not having this conversation with you.” She turned to the staircase.
“You never do.”
“You’re right, I never do.” Mom agreed, walking up the stairs. “You do what you want, it’s your life after all. If you wanna be a high school dropout, if you wanna fail and tarnish the name of Rudy Brooks, then you do you.”
“Oh, that’s new,” I spat. “You’re making it about someone else for once.”
That’s when she looked back, and I saw she was actually a little choked up. It was then I knew how hard the words hit because she didn’t reply, she just continued up the stairs.
Everything was silent. I stood there feeling a mixture of things: regret, anger, but mostly sadness. I didn’t want that to go down the way it did, but it did. I walked upstairs to my room and to lay in bed. I was trying to remember when things were easier. Before death, before grief, before loss.
I lay in bed thinking. I couldn’t believe I seen my dad. That had to be him, right? His name was Blake Morrison. Could he still be in town? Could he be gone? Of course Mom wouldn’t talk about it. I rolled over to look outside through the gap in the curtains; there were a lot of stars in the sky that night. I decided I wanted a better view, so I grabbed my comforter and went outside. I climbed up to the tree house, wrapped myself in the blanket. I placed my head in my hands and closed my eyes.
“Hey,” I heard Clay say. When I opened my eyes he was already sitting beside me. “Sounds like you need a friend right now.”
“You think?” I said in a sarcastic tone.
“So…you feeling okay?” Clay asked. “After today?”
“Feeling okay? Not really, no. That was a lot for me. That argument with Mom…that was a lot too.” I sighed.
“It didn’t sound great.”
“You heard all that?”
“I’m always around somewhere.” Clay looked at me.
“So…is there anything else in the journal about Blake?”
“Unfortunately, that was all I had. I was hesitant to show you at first.”
“Why?”
He gave me a small smile. “Because I know how you react to things.”
“I don’t really think that was an over-the-top reaction, Clay, all things considered.”
“Never said it was.” Clay continued. “I just know you. You’re a seeker. You don’t leave any stone unturned if there’s anything you can do about it. I knew you would want to find out more. I was hesitant, because that was all I have. I just didn’t want to let you down, that’s all.”
“You’re not the one who has to worry about letting anyone down, okay?”
“Noted.”
“So, let me get this straight. We can’t go back in time, kidnap Blake, go forward, and find him in the same spot?”
“You watch too many movies,” Clay said with a laugh. “This isn’t time travel. It never was.”
“Can you explain? I think I’ve had enough of these stage lights and magic tricks. I need you to unravel the enigma. The going
