The Mechanics of Being Human Read online

  As Fawn staggered forward, she grew more and more uneasy when she wound around the front of the heap of blackened wood. She must have run out the back door during the fire, because a gray, flat road met a driveway with no incline. The driveway was small enough for only one car, police vehicles, a white ambulance with flashing lights, and the fire truck parked in the front lawn, smashing the green grass underneath black rubber tires. No other houses were in sight, only the endless forest. Where she'd seen Jax.

  If only he hadn't brought her back to the house.

  While Fawn bit her bottom lip and felt her heart stagger underneath the next crashing wave of bewilderment, her dad led her over to the white ambulance. An EMT in a navy uniform with dark red hair and bright blue eyes rushed over to her, but her dad stopped him by raising his long, thin hand in the air. As if her dad had some sort of super power, the man slowed down.

  "Drive us to the hospital." Her dad glanced at her. "I'll have a look at her myself."

  The EMT peered at her warily, then turned to look over his shoulder at a second EMT. The second EMT had dark brown hair looping over her upper back and chestnut eyes. She approached the three of them and helped Fawn clamber clumsily up into the ambulance. Once Fawn stood on the inside of the ambulance, the walls of the vehicle pressed in around her. The female EMT wound around the side of the truck and disappeared. The male EMT stared at her with eyebrows raised, then stole another uncertain glance at her dad who climbed into the ambulance behind her.

  "Where are we going?" Fawn asked.

  "The hospital, Fawn." Her dad gave her arm a gentle squeeze. For reasons unknown to her, his touch made her feel twisted on the inside. "The hospital where I work as a doctor, remember? I'll look at you there. The police will probably come to ask you some questions about what happened. After that, we'll take you…somewhere. I don't know. This was the only place we had. It was our home."

  Fawn stared forward and got a lingering, confusing flash of another house. It was dark and smelled of leather and oil. She could hardly see, but what she could make out appeared too dark and filled with static. A table and chair were to her right; positioned next to heaping stacks of books. In the background, she could make out the sound of distant, though familiar, muttering. Home. That's home. This place was not home. Her fists clenched as she stared at the floor of the ambulance.

  Her dad nudged her with his elbow. Deep down, she knew he was trying to comfort her. But she wished she could stop the unfamiliar churning in her heart that told her the reason he tried to comfort her wasn't because of the smoldering house at all.

  ****

  Fawn sat in a white on white room. She lay in a bed with scratchy white sheets with a metal tray attached to it. Next to the bed sat a single fat grape-colored chair, the only furniture in the room with color. Constantly, she switched positions on the bed, wishing to escape from the discomfort and the assault on her nose. This place, this hospital, smelled of canned green beans and cleaning solution. She didn't like the scent and willed it to go away. More than anything, she longed for the smell of leather again, but Jax's coat had been taken away when she reached the hospital and was replaced by a dress that made her skin almost as itchy as the white sheets did.

  As Fawn sat on her cot, the door squeaked open, and she glanced up hopefully. Her dad walked through the door wearing mint green scrubs and a grimace. All hope he came to take her out of this awful hospital disintegrated. Behind her dad stood Officer Gordon with a pen and paper in hand. His face was covered in sweat and droopy bags hung beneath his eyes. Fawn was under the impression he slept as little last night as she did.

  "Fawn, Officer Gordon has to ask you some questions about the accident at the house." Her dad stole a nervous glance at Officer Gordon. "He wants you to answer as honestly as you can. Are you able to do that?"

  A bolt of nervous energy shot through Fawn. How could she expect to answer questions when her head was empty? How could she tell Officer Gordon the only things she recognized were the smell of leather, Jax's face, and now an old basement filled with stacks of yellowing books? She stared at Officer Gordon and let out a small whimper.

  "No need to be so scared, young lady." Officer Gordon smiled encouragingly at her, though the smile didn't reach his eyes. "You aren't in trouble here. We are just trying to figure out why your house burned down and…whatever else happened to you."

  "Whatever else happened to me?" Fawn's mouth dropped as she glanced at her dad. "Dad, did something else happen? Is there something wrong?"

  "No, no, no." Her dad raised his hands. "Nothing happened to you, Fawn. At least, not that we know of. Unless you remember something?"

  Fawn shook her head, but bit her bottom lip. No guarantees could be given with her mind the way it was.

  "We'll start at the beginning, then." Officer Gordon glanced around the room. "I'll sit down, and we can get started, Ms. Shelley."

  "Ms. Shelley?" Fawn glanced at her dad. Her dad winced and pushed his spectacles farther up his nose. They fell right back down again.

  "That's your full name, Fawn." Her dad gave a sad sigh. "Fawn Rosa-Lee Shelley. You're sixteen years old. We just moved back here to Spokane after spending the last five years in Mesquite, Nevada. I grew up here. Don't you remember any of that?"

  Her dad’s heartbroken expression made her want to say yes, even if she didn't remember even a smidgeon of those memories. She recalled no hot desert, nothing that hinted she had once lived in Nevada. No feelings were behind these images. It was just a sequence, a power point set off by her dad's words. She didn't understand how a place she called her home for five years could cause such a lack of feeling in her heart. Right now she trembled with so much emotion she wanted to run through the hospital screaming in desperation.

  When Fawn didn't answer, her dad slumped his shoulders then leaned against the wall. Officer Gordon squeezed his shoulder and then took a seat in the fat grape chair. He gave her an apologetic look and she forced a smile.

  "I'm sorry to have to ask you these questions. This must be a difficult time for you." Officer Gordon glanced at her dad now too, a frown on his face. "We believe we know what happened, but we want to clarify it with you. Unfortunately, your sudden lack of memory doesn't make sense with what we think happened. Your dad also needs a report for the insurance so we can get you guys in another house."

  Fawn nodded slowly, a frown on her face. "I understand, but I don't remember anything."

  Officer Gordon gave her a searching stare, trying to see the story instead of just hear it. "Tell me what you do remember."

  "I woke up inside the burning house. I didn't know my name or who I was. I didn't even recognize where I was. When I left the house, I realized I was naked. I was so confused..." She frowned down at her hands, trying to piece together the events of the evening. "When I left the house, I was so confused by the sound of the sirens I ran into the woods and…"

  With a frown, Fawn bit her bottom lip. She thought of Jax and the comfort she felt in his hands. When she wore his jacket, she’d felt the closest to being safe since waking up. She didn't want to hurt him by getting him involved, but if he burned down her house, then he was dangerous.

  "And?" Officer Gordon raised an eyebrow.

  "Go on, Fawn." Her dad nodded at her.

  "I saw Uncle Jax there. He told me to go back to the house. When I didn't, he gave me the coat and made me cover myself up. He said he didn't want me to run around without clothes." She stole a frightened glance at her dad whose face didn't change. Shouldn't he have been shocked her uncle was wandering the woods? "He brought me back to the house and pushed me over to you. I think he was trying to protect me. I don't know why, but when I saw him, I just…I know he's not a bad person. I know he isn't."

  Shocked silence filled the hospital room. Fawn's own words rung in her ears. "I know he's not a bad person." She didn't know why she tried so hard to protect him. It was highly probable he was the person who burned down the house. Yet she couldn't forget ab
out him, and she wanted to protect him too.

  "So he was outside the house." Officer Gordon nodded his head. "And he gave you his coat? You think he wanted to protect you?"

  "Yes." Her mouth tightened. "I know he did."

  "That's interesting, because we have physical evidence the man you speak of attempted to burn down your house while you were in the shower." Officer Gordon frowned and shook his head at his notepad again.

  "Maybe he didn't know I was in the house," she blurted out.

  Both Officer Gordon and her dad exchanged glances again. Fawn's heart ached. She tried to imagine Jax running around her home with gasoline and a torch. The image didn't seem right to her. She longed for the answer. Remember. Remember what happened. You have to remember. Unlike the slideshow that appeared whenever she looked around her new and unfamiliar surroundings, nothing appeared. She didn't receive a flash of memory letting her know that grapes were purple or that tree leaves were green. Anger at herself burned strong in her heart. Her brows furrowed as she searched through the blackness. She wanted something, anything, to hold onto.

  "Easy there, Fawn." Her dad rushed forward and grabbed her arm. "You look like you're going to blow a circuit. Let this all come naturally. Don't strain yourself so much."

  "Naturally?" Fawn's voice grew high-pitched as fire built within her. "I can't remember who I am or where I live. I’m so confused. The only person I have any memories of at all is Jax, who escorted me back to a place I supposedly called home but know nothing about. I can't help but think it's him I should be with right now, but apparently, the only man I trust tried to kill me. Please don't tell me not to strain myself when I feel like my head is going to burst open."

  Silence fell across the room as her dad stared down at Fawn in openmouthed silence. Officer Gordon's hand quivered and his pen fell to the ground with a ‘tink’. Suddenly, she wished she could gather up her words and shove them back into her mouth again. She could tell by her dad's wide-eyed expression he was concerned, maybe even hurt. He had a right to be. After all, he now knew she didn't feel safe around him. Just because she thought something didn't mean she should say it and insult somebody.

  "I'm sorry." Fawn stared down at her clenched fists. "It's just…none of this feels fair."

  "It isn't fair." Her dad's eyes softened, and he gently tugged a lock of Fawn's sandy hair. "You're doing the best you can. Don't worry about what you said."

  Officer Gordon cleared his throat then stood up. He shuffled his feet awkwardly. "I'll leave now. You gave me some things to think about, Fawn. Maybe we can help ease your mind about your lack of memories. Something happened to you. I just wish I knew what."

  Her dad whirled around. "I'll escort you out."

  As Fawn watched the two of them head toward the door, crushing solitude pounded in her heart. She felt loneliness sink into her bones, into her very core. Nobody understood her. Yet she looked like them, talked like them, behaved like them. Maybe she just felt lonely because she couldn't remember who she was. Losing her identity stole the one person she counted on right now—herself.

  Chapter Two

  The next day, Fawn was allowed to leave the hospital. She stood with her mom, who wore a maroon shirt and denim pants. With her round body and bright orange hair, she appeared more like a pumpkin than ever. Her dad fumbled in his jean pockets, searching for his keys. A white door adorned with the silver numbers 202 was in front of them. The smell of cigarettes drifted through the air, assaulting her nostrils. It must have come from one of the neighboring apartments and leaked underneath the door. Either that, or somebody had just been in the stairwell, smoking.

  After her dad finally found his key, he opened the door. A wash of cold air from the air conditioner inside caressed her skin. Her mom draped her arm over Fawn's shoulder. She smelled something tangy and sweet, which overwhelmed the odor of smoke. A green fruit flashed in her mind with smooth green skin with juicy orange insides. Mango. Her mom smelled of mango. The scent soothed and calmed her for some reason. Maybe it was a flash of recognition. Then again, she could have just liked mangos.

  "Come on, honey." Her mom applied gentle pressure to her shoulder blade.

  Fawn let out a shaky sigh and took a step into the apartment. The first thing she noticed was it was cluttered with brown moving boxes. The second thing was it, like the hospital room, was painted white on white. As there was nothing to draw her eyes, she was uncertain of what to focus on. It was lifeless, like a body without a soul. Stormy gray carpet coated every inch of the living room expect for the connected kitchen, which had a cream tiled floor. The kitchen’s counter tops were off-white granite and the cabinets were light brown. A couple of clean plates sat drying by the sink.

  Shrugging off her mom's arm, Fawn stood in the middle of the living room next to the five foot high pile of boxes and stared out the window. A park with green grass and a brightly colored jungle gym could be seen nearby. Her throat grew thick, as it always seemed to when she was upset, then ran her fingers through her hair. Once again, she felt things were not right. Sirens went off in her head, almost as loud as the ones from the emergency vehicles after the fire. Her parents' boxes were filled with material goods, but their house burned down. Plus, her dad was a doctor, yet he rented a two-room apartment. She didn't know whether or not she was good at math, but she did know two plus two equaled four. A burned down house didn't mean stacks of boxes.

  "Well?" Her dad sounded nervous. "What do you think, Fawn?"

  "It isn't too bad." Fawn liked the view of the park, at least. She gazed at the boxes and bit her bottom lip. Should she mention her woes, or should she not? A great balloon was in her heart, swelling with confusion. Surely there was an acceptable explanation.

  Her mom, following her gaze, wrapped her arm around Fawn's shoulder again and squeezed. She was now accustomed to the scent of mango, but this time, it didn't bring her comfort. It made her flinch away. It was too sweet, too overwhelming. The scent grabbed a hold of her nostrils and choked her, much like her emotions regarding the boxes.

  "All of your things burned up in the fire." Her mom grinned at her. "How about tomorrow we go shopping? I'll buy you some new clothes and shoes."

  "That would be nice." Fawn liked the idea of having clothes that didn't have holes in them. Her dad gave her hand-me-downs from a friend at the hospital to wear. Still, despite the excitement of having different clothes, the balloon didn't dispel air and she was left with pressure in her chest. "But, Mom, why do you have all of these things here, but I don't have anything at all?"

  The air sparked with electricity. Her parents locked gazes and they stared at one another, fighting an internal wrestling match. She swore the two of them were projecting thoughts to one another.

  Finally, her dad said, "I had a storage unit here. These things are all from when I went to college."

  "Oh." The balloon popped, but unfortunately, the action took her pride along with it. She'd been wrong. Her parents weren't up to anything at all. "But why would you want to keep your things? Couldn't you just sell them? That way you wouldn't have to pay for a warehouse, and you could make money."

  Her mom let out a shaky laugh and play punched her in the shoulder. "What's the matter with you, honey? You were never this paranoid before."

  "Yeah. We didn't abduct you or anything. You're our real daughter," her dad said. "These old things have a lot of memories for me. You can't sell stuff like that. It would be like selling a part of your own soul."

  Once again, silence fell. Fawn guessed it made sense her dad saved his old college things. Sometimes things became an extension of one‘s self. She'd already started to feel that way about some of the clothes she'd gotten. She nodded then forced a smile on her face. She felt ridiculous for bringing it up at all. It was obvious she distrusted them. Since she was basically starting at the beginning at reforming a bond with her parents, she didn't want them to dislike the new her. It would be like building a house on a cracked foundation.


  "I'm sorry." Fawn smiled. "I guess I hoped you saved some things for me."

  Her mom's face brightened. "But won't new things be nice? New clothes for new memories, right?"

  Though Fawn didn't share her excitement, she wanted to get past the uncomfortable atmosphere and bobbed her head with feigned happiness. It wasn't hard. It seemed like she'd been doing a lot of acting. Her stomach sunk at the idea that she wasn't sure who to be when she wasn't acting. She just wanted her mom to keep smiling. Just because she was nervous didn't mean her mom had to be.

  "We'll get a book bag too, though you won't be going to public school." Her mom sent her a piercing glance. "Not with how you are now."

  How I am now. The words made Fawn's heart burn as if it was covered in acid. She’d lost her memory, not sprouted extra arms or a second head. Yet her mom was right. She probably couldn't go back. Not like this. Though she received a flash of what school looked like, the swimming current of images she received were as foreign to her as China. Yet as much as she knew she shouldn't go to school, she wanted to be there. It would be nice to be with people her age. The idea she couldn't crushed her with disappointment.

  "You're still awfully quiet." Her mom sounded sad. "I know. Why don't I get you one of your special dinners? You're probably just in need of a pick-me up."

  The thought of the black ooze was as exciting to her as the idea of chewing off one of her fingers. She winced as her mom and dad entered the kitchen and followed after them. Her dad stood to one side while her mom opened the overhead cabinet. Her mom frowned, shook her head, then migrated to the other cabinet. When she opened it, lines and lines of unmarked cans glinted in the overhead light. All of those cans were her special meals, whatever that was. She had the distinct feeling it was liquid tar based on the consistency. She doubted it would be much different swallowing slugs.