Clandestiny [on hold]

Chapter 3

“Yeah that’s us,” I say without looking at Astrid, she goes back to looking at the picture. Keely is 19 now, she was 9 in the picture. Keely left home one day after she turned 17 and we haven’t seen or heard from her since. All I got was a text from her, a reply to my many texts and calls, all it said was ‘sorry, I had to’ and that was the last piece of evidence that she even existed anymore. I feel like ripping the photo from her hands, like this is our moment and she’s spoiling it. I don’t know what she’d do if I snatched if from her though, so I stay quiet and still.

The kettle clicks off and I pour the boiling water into the cup. Astrid speaks to me with her eyes still glued to the picture. “your grandmother is very nice, she makes a lot of sense to me and that makes me feels less…” she searches for the right word, she settles on one “scared I guess”.

I look at her in disbelief “Really, my granny made sense? All she does is talk nonsense all day; nothing says makes sense.”

Astrid looks up at me. “Not true, she’s a very wise lady with some very valid points, and she listens to me. It feels good to have my own opinions acknowledged.” She lowers her head and goes back to looking at the picture. “If I do have a family, I don’t think they’ve ever made me feel special. That’s if I have a family, I feel like I don’t even have that.” She looks at me with wide eyes. “Why can’t I remember anything? What happened to me?”

“I’m asking myself the same thing,” I mumble as I carry the tea out to Grandma Sophie, I keep my eyes away from Astrid. She follows me out.

“Here Grandma Sophie,” I say, she turns her head to me and smiles.

“Oh, thank you dear. How’s your mother?” she sips her tea.

“Distraught, how could you sit out here and be so calm about all this?”

“Well it’s not like I could’ve done anything Casey, why worry about something that’s out of your control? Why worry at all? I’m an old lady; I’ve had plenty of days to worry about nothing.” I hate how she makes so much sense; it’s the wrong kind of sense, the kind of sense that doesn’t deserve to be right.

Astrid sits on the swing beside Grandma Sophie. “Why did you call me Astrid? Of all the names or nicknames, why did you call me that?”

“That name has a great meaning for you; it suits you to a tee. From what you told me about yourself I could tell ‘Astrid’ would be perfect.”

“It suits me? Does it mean lost or insane or frantic? That’s what I assume you got when I told you about myself” her tone shows she is offended.

“You have little faith in yourself my dear, you say you are lost, insane and frantic, but that’s not what I got from your description. You told me of how you overthrew Casey and could’ve snapped his neck if you wanted to, and you did by the sound of it. You told me how you flew through the trees like they weren’t even there, you heard a car coming down the road before it was visible, and you found your way here with little direction given to you. No, I don’t believe you are lost, you may have been frantic for a split second, but you’re definitely not insane. You are an extraordinary woman, like no one I’ve ever met in my long life, and that’s what ‘Astrid’ means, unusual strength and beauty.” Astrid looks stunned, she was hanging on Grandma Sophie’s every word, amazed by what she heard.

“Wow” she says “I…didn’t think of myself like that but…thank you Mrs Finch” Grandma Sophie is full of surprises.

“So, you know about what names mean?” I say, “What does mine mean?” Grandma Sophie replies to Astrid, not me. She turns her head and speaks in an inaudible tone. Astrid nods like she understands. "So…what does it mean? What about mom and Zula and Keely and Calix…and Oliver? And you?” again, she just smiles and turns to speak to Astrid. It’s longer this time, probably explaining all the names I mentioned, then she presses her finger to her lips and Astrid nods once more. This is very annoying, I give up.