Being Henry David by Cal Armistead

Author:Cal Armistead [Armistead, Cal]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: (¯`'•.¸//(*_*)\\¸.•'´¯)
ISBN: 9781480419865
Publisher: Albert Whitman & Company
Published: 2013-02-26T17:49:00+00:00

11

“Here you go. I found a couple more.” Thomas brings over two more books and sets them on top of the stack he already gave me. Jesus. The guy is just way too into this research thing.

Sitting in the Thoreau room at the library, I flip through books on memory and memory loss, hopefully to get a handle on how this thing happened to me and, maybe, how to reverse it. I’m not sure the answer to that lies in these books, but Thomas is all about research, so whatever.

Amnesia can be caused by physical trauma like a crack on the head, the books say. Or, it can be a result of emotional trauma. Like if something really terrible happened, too traumatic to deal with, your brain blocks it out. It’s the brain protecting itself, a defense mechanism. Kind of cool and weird at the same time, when you think about it.

Basically all the books agree on one thing: the brain is a mystery. And what causes memory loss and what brings it back are things people don’t completely understand. Great. That’s no help at all.

What if I never get my memory back? I figure I have two choices: Create a life with no past, starting here and now. Or go to the Concord Police Department and turn myself in. They’d call the media and put me on the news, and eventually someone would see me and identify me. I’d be taken home to parents I don’t remember, a life that I apparently ran away from. If they want me back, that is. Then there’s the chance that I’m facing jail time. All of which make option number one sound like the best choice: creating my own life, on my own terms, something like what Thoreau did.

“Did those books help?” Thomas asks me, setting one more book on top of the pile, which threatens to topple over.

“Basically they say I might remember a little at a time, remember everything at once, or never remember another thing for the rest of my life.”

“Hmm,” says Thomas, scratching his bearded chin. “Well, that leaves things pretty much open, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” I say, leaning back with my feet straight out and my arms crossed over my chest, shutting down. “Sucks.”

“Listen, Hank, I have an idea. There’s this database for missing kids. We can bring it up on the computer and see if you’re on it.”

He signs me up for one of the library computers, and together we go online. And there it is, the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children. My heart jumps in my chest, just looking at those words. Missing. Exploited. Which am I?

“Any particular state you’d like to start with?” Thomas asks.

“How about New York,” I say. Makes sense. It’s where I woke up.

A few swipes on the keyboard, and he has opened up a page of missing kids from the state of New York. Over a hundred of them.

“Okay, Hank, go to it,” Thomas says. “I need to get back to work.

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