The Perennial Flames

I was home again.

No, not home. I looked around, carefully brushing my fingers along the bookcases filled with titles I had never heard of in any place but here, though whenever I was here, I was more like a ghost than a real person. I idly passed my hand through a little figurine of a strange lizard-like animal that had always pleased me, though I never could put a name to why that was. I examined the framed picture that sat next to it and a name sprang to mind.

Kaz.

I snatched my hand back from the picture, suddenly tingling. Kaz! Of course. A strange, quiet part of me wondered how I had managed to forget about him. I had to find him immediately. Without considering whether there would be people around outside for the first time in a decade, I bolted from the little cottage and sprinted down the street. I didn’t know where I was going, but I was certain that this was the right way. Kaz. His house was near here. I knew it.

But where?

Someone grabbed at my shoulder and I screamed. “Woah! Hey, calm down. Please, Violet, I didn’t mean to startle you, miss. You all right, there? It’s just… well, I haven’t seen you in quite a time, and I knew the misses would never forgive me if I saw you passing on the street and didn’t say a quick hello.”

I stared into the face of a man who was probably in his fifties, with a bushy, perfectly symmetrical mustache and a straw hat pulled low to block out the violent sunlight. “Hello,” I said faintly. Maybe if I played along he would let me go quickly, I thought.

“I was just saying to her the other day, ‘Hey, Miss Violet’s sure been gone a long time,’ and do you know what she said? ‘Well of course she has been! She must have realized how much brighter a day can be without you breathing down her back!’ Now, I don’t think it was anything personal, Miss Violet. She was just angry that I had tramped on her garden again.”

“Well,” I hedged, “You really must learn to watch your step. Always, her poor garden can’t make it through the summer without you stamping it down at least twice.” Even as the words left my mouth, I felt them to be true. “Now, I’d best be off, but do tell Shari to give you an easier time for me.” Shari? A name I hadn’t thought I knew.

The man flushed. “Sure and you’re a generous woman, Miss Violet. I hope to see you soon.” He hurried away looking flustered and pleased with himself.

Shari? I thought again. How on Earth had I known that name? Or… not on Earth, I reminded myself. I looked around, feeling a not-unfamiliar stab of panic. Where was I?

I think it was the panic that sent me back to myself. I lifted my head from my desk, deeply regretting having been writing in pen. I walked slowly up to my teacher’s desk and looked sheepishly at her.

“May I be excused for a minute?”

Mrs. Sloane nodded mutely. This was something she was used to dealing with, and she didn’t bother asking me why anymore. “I’m giving a quiz in five minutes. Do try to be quick.”

I nodded and dashed out of the room, hurrying to the nearest bathroom. As soon as I got there, I felt myself fading again. I barely had enough time to prop myself up against the cleanest wall I could find before I was gone again.

And once again I was standing in my little room in the house that seemed to belong to me, in my hallucinations. I screamed in frustration. I had a quiz to get to! What was I supposed to do? And what if someone came into the bathroom and saw me in there, looking dead to the world? It would probably be terrifying. What if an ambulance was called? That had happened before. And –

I was back in my own body.

I threw a quick glance in the mirror, saw that my face was clear of ink, and sprinted back to class.
My teacher looked at me strangely. I could understand why: only a couple of minutes had passed since I left, and I probably did look pretty frantic. I sat down and concentrated on looking like I was studying my notes.

I had to call Baxter. These weren’t my first or second flashes of the day. My narcolepsy was getting way out of hand, and I didn’t know where else to turn.

⦁ ⦁ ⦁

When I walked into our normal local coffee shop, the Jam ‘N’ Java, my eyes immediately landed on Baxter. He wasn’t an easy target to miss. What I did not notice immediately was the slight blonde woman who was sitting with him. She gazed at me with hungry eyes and leaned eagerly forward in her chair.

“You must be Sydney,” she said.

“Actually, it’s Violet.” I clapped my hands over my mouth, shocked that that had come out of me. I hadn’t meant to say it. It wasn’t even true. Sure, in my hallucinations, my name was Violet. But I wasn’t hallucinating now. “Sorry, I don’t know why I said that. You were right. I’m Sydney.”

The woman looked at Baxter, her expression exuding excitement. Baxter just shook his head slightly and turned to me. “You know, if you prefer Violet, I don’t mind calling you that.”
I stared at him. “Aren’t you supposed to be helping me to be sane, not encouraging these strange fantasies?”

Baxter grinned, flashing his alarmingly white teeth at me. “Not anymore. I’m retired, remember?”
The blonde laughed loudly, a peal that shimmied through at least an entire octave before she was done. “Well, Violet, I don’t believe you know me. I’m Athena.”

“Like the goddess?” I said stupidly.

“Why, yes,” she said, looking pleased. “I named myself after her, you know.” Then a frown. “Or, maybe you don’t know. Sorry.” She picked up the mug in front of her and studied it.
Baxter sighed. “Sorry. This is my roommate. She’s been hearing about my friend Sydney for years, and has been begging to meet you. I should have warned you.”

I shrugged. A little late for that now, wasn’t it? “It’s fine. Actually, I was hoping to talk to you about something kind of sensitive.”

Athena immediately threw herself up out of her chair and headed toward the counter. Baxter looked after her, and I thought that he was torn between amusement and exasperation. “That woman has no subtlety.”

“Well, she never did, did she?” Again, these words had escaped me completely involuntarily. I winced. “I mean, ‘Athena’ isn’t exactly a subtle name to choose.”

Baxter stared at me a bit, but quickly recovered. “Well, yes, I suppose you’re right. But what’s going on?”

I suddenly didn’t feel very safe, opening up about this. It was getting harder and harder not to tell Baxter about my hallucinations. I felt like I wouldn’t be able to keep it in once I started confessing things. Nonetheless, I was too used to confiding in him to hold much back. “It’s been getting worse. My sleeping, I mean. I can’t stay here in the present for very long at all.” I started to feel myself panic and I shut my eyes against the sudden pull I felt away from my body.

I resisted, barely, and opened my eyes to see Baxter staring at me. “I think it’s time we laid everything out in the open,” he said, and stood up. Athena was instantly by his side and the two hurried out of the café. I scrambled to follow, my heart racing. He knew that I had been hiding things from him. How did he know? Was he upset? Would this tear apart our friendship? Because he was really the only friend I had.

I was a terrible outsider at school. Although I was very interested in all of the people around me, I never managed to fit in. I know, that sounds pathetic, but it is the truth. Every single subject came too easily to me. Never had I bothered to take notes in any of my classes, or to study, or even to pay attention. It felt like whenever I needed to pull information out of my head, all I had to do was concentrate and it would be there.

That’s when a strange thought occurred to me: what if I concentrated on remembering something impossible? Sometimes it felt like my mind had a superpower, like it was some kind of magic that made school so easy for me. Not just school, but other things were too easy, too. I was good at most sports. I could fix any broken machine, though I never knew the names for the parts that I was working with or why I was making the adjustments that I made. I sometimes found myself able to navigate streets even in unfamiliar territory. What if I tried concentrating on something else? Something like the before time- before I was adopted, before the car accident that had somehow ripped me away from whatever parents I had had.

Baxter and Athena came to a stop. We all sat down on a bench outside of my old elementary school, which was right next to the Jam ‘N’ Java. Baxter turned to me and said, “I’m going to show you something impossible.”

“What?” I asked.

“Just bear with me.” Baxter pulled a knife out of his pocket. “Please, trust me here. Everything is
okay.”

As if you could ever believe those words when the person saying them was also armed.

Baxter quickly drew the knife across his palm and let the blood pool there for a minute. His blood had a strange quality. It was almost… yellowish. I stared at it curiously. I had only ever known one other person to have blood like that, besides Baxter: me.

“Watch closely,” Athena warned, perhaps sensing how inward my thoughts had turned. Little flames flickered across Baxter’s palm, burning up the blood. When the fizzled out, the skin was perfect, as though it had never been touched even by sunlight, much less by cold metal.

I threw myself to my feet. “Baxter!” I looked wildly to Athena, who was watching me with a curious look on her face.

Baxter now raised both hands, holding them in the universal “It’s okay” symbol. I backed away.

“Explain yourself,” I commanded.

“I’m not from here,” Baxter said.

“What? I know that. You moved here from New Jersey, didn’t you? What, is there something in the water in New Jersey? Something radioactive?”

Athena giggled. “No, of course not. He means, not from this world. Not from this realm. He and I, we’re both from somewhere else entirely.”

I stared between them both for what felt like a long time. “You’re kidding.” But they didn’t seem to be enjoying this conversation at all. In fact, Baxter seemed apprehensive. “And here I thought we had come out here so that you could call me out for secret keeping.”

Baxter frowned. “No, of course not. You have a right to your privacy… though I do wish you wouldn’t keep things from me. It would make this so much easier. Probably. If you know what I hope you know… which you seem not to, given the confusion I see on your face… well.”

“Sorry about him,” Athena said, wrapping an arm around me. “He’s bad at tense situations. Rather, at tense interpersonal situations. You put him in a bar brawl and he’s as cool as they come.”
I thought about stepping away from her, but ultimately decided that there was no point. She didn’t seem dangerous… only unbalanced. Was she another of Baxter’s former clients? Now that I thought about it, this kind of friendship with one’s psychiatrist was probably unusual for a very good reason.

“Talk to me, Violet,” Baxter begged.

“Violet?” I repeated. “I never told you that you had to call me that.” He’s nuts, I thought. Absolutely bonkers. That would explain the early retirement and the willingness to go along with my delusions.
Maybe he absorbed too much of everyone else’s crazy.

I sat down next to him and took his hands in my own, trying not to be disgusted at the memory of blood. Baxter looked relieved. “You don’t have to. Your name is Violet. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Athena and I aren’t from this place, and neither are you.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No, I swear to you that I am not.” Baxter looked pleadingly at Athena, who sat down next to me and wrapped her hands around mine and Baxter’s.

“Clearly Baxter’s little trick there didn’t convince you. I’m going to try another tack. Do you remember Kaz?”

“Kaz?” I couldn’t help echoing immediately. “Where is he? Do you know him? Please, Athena-”
Athena grinned, triumph spreading irresistibly across her golden features. “Yes. I know Kaz, and I know where he is. Only, I can’t take you there. Not without help.” This was said tauntingly, like I was a rabbit and her words were a carrot.

“Where?”

“Back home,” Athena said, her voice full of longing. “Not on this planet.”

I huffed. “Oh, yes? Where are we supposed to be from, then? And why wouldn’t I know any of this?” The answer was obvious, of course. I was adopted. These people could tell me anything they
wanted about my origin and I wouldn’t be able to disprove it.

Well, maybe this could be proven false. Just ask any scientist if it’s possible and see what happens. “It’s because we don’t have the right medicine for you. You’re remembering things the hard way, the long way. Don’t worry, you’re old enough that the memories should be coming back quickly now, and you should be coming back into yourself,” Baxter said. It was so easy to just hear his tone and not his words, and to believe that he was being entirely reasonable.

Except, of course, that this was all nonsense.

“Baxter, I don’t know how you found out about my hallucinations, but this is cruel. I always thought you were a good person, but this is kind of feeling like a setup right now. Why else would you keep hanging around some crazy little client? It’s creepy. I’m way too young to be friends with you. My mom doesn’t say anything because she thinks that you’re helping, that you’re like the father figure I should have had, or something. Maybe that’s what I wanted out of this, too. A little. But how could you do this? Is it really so funny?”

“No! No, Violet, listen to me, please. I’m telling the truth. You might not want to believe it, but you must know it’s true. We’re from Phoenix, you and I and Athena. I know you probably don’t remember them, but our old friends Tavish and Eira are still stuck here on Earth, too. They’re on their way back to Maryland now. They were off traveling all these years. We’ve been waiting for you to remember yourself, to remember us, so that you can get us back home. Please, Violet, please try to remember.”

That was it for me, I’m afraid. I wrenched my hands away from his and sprinted back to the café parking lot, feeling wretched. I didn’t have a car. I wasn’t allowed to take cabs. My only methods for transportation were Mom and Baxter, and Mom was at work right now.

I was in for a long walk home. I just hoped I could make it before I fell asleep again.