That was true. But maybe, just maybe, taking Nan back would restore some of her memories? Maybe reliving them would help her remember in the present.
“I just want my grandmother back.” I thought for a moment. “Is there another way you can take people back?”
“What do you mean?” Clay raised an eyebrow.
“Your hand.” I grabbed it. “When we touch, the memories extend all around us. What if you condense it? What if you condense it in such a way that it doesn’t impact the body as hard as it impacted me?”
“I’ve never tried that before.”
“You’ve never had anyone to try that on,” I corrected. “Why don’t you let me be that test subject?”
Clay took his hand back. “That sounds dangerous.”
“Nothing’s dangerous if you’re in control.” I grinned. “Why don’t we give it a try?”
Clay turned and walked away from me. I don’t think he knew the full extent of his powers. But the way I saw it, the only way to find out was to challenge what he already knew. I wondered why Clay wasn’t as eager as I was; he spent most of his life here with that power. It’s clear he was comfortable, but if you get too comfortable you’ll never move forward.
“So…is that a yes, or a no?”
“It’s a maybe.” Clay turned back to look. “If we do this—and that is a big if—I need some time to see if I can actually pull it off. Give me a week?” Clay put his hands in front of his face. “I’d hate to mess this up.”
“Okay.”
I had no idea if this would work, but I knew we had to try. If there was a way we could restore Nan’s memory, we had to.
Chapter 13
Clay distanced himself for the next week. I had no idea what his process was, so instead of prying I tried to respect his boundary. I spent most of that week—when I wasn’t at school or avoiding Mom—searching the house, hoping to find my grandfather’s torn-out journal pages. I went to the basement one night and ended up discovering all the things Mom had moved from his study. I was thankful none of it had been thrown out. I went through file after file after file. No luck. I kept thinking about what Nan had said in that memory about the other Annaka, and Grampy not wanting to talk about it. Maybe if the plan to bring Nan’s memory back worked, I could even ask her? But that was thinking too far ahead.
As I looked through a box of papers, I could hear creaking from the ceiling. When I looked up, dust hit me on the forehead. It must have been Mom or Nan moving around upstairs—it was getting close to her bedtime. Maybe I should touch base with Clay to see where he was at regarding our plan.
“Hey.”
I startled and fell back onto the floor, only to see his silhouette. “Goddammit, dude. We spoke about you not doing that, remember?”
“I do,” Clay said with a laugh. “I didn’t make any promises.”
“Clearly.” He helped me to my feet.
“Have you found anything?”
“Old assignments, lesson plans, a syllabus…no journal entries.”
“I could have told you that.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I said, a bit embarrassed. “Have you come to a conclusion on your end?” I hoped Clay could pull this off.
“I think I know how.”
My heart skipped a beat. Yes! “All right, well Mom’s taking Nan to bed, and she’ll probably go to sleep herself shortly after. Why don’t we get started?”
Clay seemed hesitant. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Yes.” There was no room for doubt if we planned to move forward.
Clay sighed. “You know there are…risks.”
I knew the risks more than anyone else. I knew this process would put Nan in physical and mental danger. It might worsen what she was already going through, or it might cause her harm in other ways. But we had an opportunity to bring her back. My heart told me we needed to try.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” I said.
I walked upstairs with the journal in my hand. I knew Clay would follow. I headed to the backyard to see the moon reflected on the lake. The spring night was calm.
“So…how are you going do it?” I asked.
“I’ll pick a page in the journal, and focus my energy on your mind instead of your surroundings. The memories should fall into place like puzzle pieces.”
“So…you need to pick something I don’t remember?”
“Yes,” Clay said, looking straight into my eyes. “Are you ready?”
“I should be asking you that,” I said as he took the journal from me.
Clay stepped back and flipped through a bunch of pages. He finally asked, “What were you thinking about the day you and Tia had a sleepover and she almost found me?”
“Ohhh…I half remember that.” I was putting the pieces back together. “We were in my room, and she opened my closet. She saw your measurements on the wall next to mine, and thought it was weird I took measurements of an imaginary friend. Then I explained that I did have an imaginary friend, but I remember you refusing to show yourself. So she just thought I was being a dork.”
“At least I was being consistent.” Clay shrugged. “So we’re clearly not going to go with that one.” Clay flipped to another page. “Okay, okay,” he said. “What about Tia’s birthday party. Ring any bells?”
“Probably eating cake or playing video games at Tia’s?” I couldn’t remember specifics; I’ve been to a lot of Tia’s birthdays.
“So you don’t remember too much, then?”
“Can’t say I do.” I shrugged.
“Then this is the one.”
Clay closed the book. He looked nervous. Ultimately, he had no idea if this would actually work. He extended a hand, and instead of his eyes glowing blue, the air around him glowed. And then the glow began to extend in my direction. I looked directly into it. I felt the energy focus like wind; I could feel
