A H.E.R.O.S PROJECT 12

11. Forgotten memory

The vast valleys that are my mind part without my permission or knowing how to part them. The greater power controlling this world places me in a dark field. Cool grass hugs my bare feet once I land.

No, no, it's a backyard, not a field. Ripe red roses blossom by an oak fence stitched in bright purple clematis. A big tree with a rope swing materializes near a swing hung by my father at our old house. Girly toys float down onto soft green grass, and I hear voices in the background. I'm too preoccupied stacking Legos, dubbing a ladybug far more interesting than listening to them argue.

They used to argue a lot.

It's Mom and—

"Hi, pumpkin!" It's Dad.

But Dad's dead.

Dad died when I was a little girl. He was shot in the chest three times and bled out on the battlefield before anyone could save him. That's what a finely dressed soldier and Grandpa told Mom and me.

Dad was on a special mission and sacrificed his life to save a comrade. He died a hero, awarded a purple heart and our nation's honor. They came to our door with a folded American flag and Dad's dog tag I wear to this day around my neck.

But here he is, and Dad looks so young and handsome in his white t-shirt and Hawaiian shorts. I never noticed this before, but the flowers on the lower hem of his pants are orange and green, shading to purple and red at the top. The gold watch on his wrist has a brown band, and he continuously combs his pale blonde hair back and away from his forehead. Like he's nervous. I had never noticed these details before, but how could I? I was a little kid.

"Whatcha got there, love?" Dad asks me.

Dad! Dad! I cry—my heart cracks. I thought I'd never see you again. I missed you. We all missed you. I don't know what's happening—Richie is in danger.

You have to help us!

"Is that a ladybug? Adah, our girl, is a natural hunter. We need to get her a pet. She needs a good dog."

Dad, you're not listening to me! Richie and I won't make it without you. I don't know what's going on. You have to save us. We need you now, Dad! Please, listen to me!

"Solomon, we've been over this. She can have a pet when she's older. We're still talking, Solomon. Why do they want you to reenlist? You've been home for less than a month. That girl, that beautiful little girl blessed with your eyes and smile, needs her father. Not a part-time dad. She needs stability. You know better. Your dad barely raised you."

Dad swishes his cheeks, his blonde hair falling to his brow. He shakes his bangs, and they lay more to the left side of his face. Dad looks so alive and free and unbothered by mom. He knows how to get under her skin, and I laugh watching him handle her.

He smiles brightly, and his white teeth gleam as he scrunches his nose. He's so handsome, and Mom falls victim to his beauty, softening her expression, grinning, and rolling her eyes at him. He knows what he's doing to her, and he waves at Mom, "Honey, we can talk about this at dinner. Let me play with my daughter. I haven't seen her all day. I'm ready for fun, Adah."

Dad throws my toys, lovingly admiring me. Grass lands on his white t-shirt. His dog tag peeks from under his shirt.

Dad? You're not real.

Mom crosses her arms and laughs, "Whatever, Solomon. We finish at dinner. And no pets. When she's older, we'll talk about it. Bring her in an hour, and stop using your cute voice on me. It stopped working the day we got married."

Mom shuts the back sliding door.

"Honey, you still said yes!" Dad yells, shrugging.

"I got away. I'm lucky, kiddo. You're my lucky star. I should bring you to my meetings with the boys in town. One look at you, and they'll want to end the fighting and have us packing our gear tonight. No more fighting, no more doctors, no more tests. We can all leave. Wouldn't that be nice?"

I giggle, tossing my doll at him. Dad catches it and laughs with me.

Dad, I'm scared. Richie isn't waking up, and my phone died. No one knows where we're at.

I decide, choosing not to waste whatever miracle this is. I've dreamt of moments like this, where Dad and I are playing on the grass again. He'd talk to me like an adult and share secrets I was too little to understand. What's happening here has to be an early memory of him.

I love you, Dad. Before you left, I wanted to tell you that, but I-I was... and if I had known... Richie wasn't even born yet! Why did you choose them over us?! We needed you. We still need you! I need you, and Richie doesn't have a father. Richie used to ask questions about you, and I couldn't tell him anything because every time I thought of you or remembered your face, I'd fall apart.

What about Mom?! Didn't she deserve a happy ending?! After all these years—she still loves you, and you were so selfish, and why did you go, Dad?! Why did you leave us?!

Dad continues laughing, finding another ladybug. He tells me how ladybugs work and how they fly. Their purpose. How everything under God's sun is significant and worth loving. Even me.

"You see, Yaya, the best things in life don't stay on the ground. Ain't nothing wrong with the ground. That's not what I'm saying. I'm saying that the brave must explore and take to the clouds. Your life can't start until you look up and want something more for yourself. More for the people you love and those you don't, and keep them safe because no one else will. That's why you gotta fly. That's what being brave is."

Dad cradles my little hand in his palm, and I compare our skin colors. My warm brown skin to his tan white. "Your old man is telling you this, don't be afraid to jump and see what's up there because you might be surprised to find what's been waiting for you in the clouds."

Dad picks me up and sets me on his lap, and my eyelids grow heavy.

The warm sun heats my back, and a gentle breeze stirs my curly hair. My pretty pink sundress lays on my chubby knees. Dad counts as I slump still, yawning.

This is a memory. One I've buried so deep within me that I forgot it. Because I forgot it happened or didn't remember it happening at all.

I watch the memory play through. My head is resting on his chest, watching the clouds in the light blue sky float by. My little hand stretches up, and I grasp his dog tag as I close my eyes and fall asleep. The pleasant memory fades.

I find peace in Dad's arms as this world decelerates, unwinding, becoming mist and smoke and darkness. He sings me a lullaby, one I somewhat recall, but I can learn it here, and I'm carried inside for dinner.

Sleep sleep child
So you will go to sleep
So your mama will come
Bringing you flowers
Oh, bringing you flowers
Carnations and daisies

A sad and loving voice whispers, "I am so sorry, Anaya, my little Anaya. My sweet little girl. If I could have picked anyone, I'm happy it's you. You'll see how lucky we are soon. This is the beginning of us and the start of a new. I can't wait to see all the wonderful things you do, my little girl. I'm so proud of you."