Chapter One: A New Home
"Welcome home honey," My grandmother said to me as the two of us walked through the front door. I looked around the wooden home that I didn't recognize. Even though I couldn't remember being here, I somehow knew that I always enjoyed it here. I set my suitcase on the floor next to the door and turned around to meet my grandmother's gaze. Her blue eyes seemed so kind, so caring and it saddened me to know that I couldn't remember a single memory with her.
"Grandmother," I said. "Is there anything I can drink? I'm thirsty."
"Yes, of course," She smiled sweetly. "Would you like some tea?"
"Do I like tea?" I asked.
"I think so." She said, beckoning me to follow her into the kitchen. "I guess you can find out for yourself."
I sat down on one of the padded stool that sat in front of the counter as my grandmother pulled out a ceramic pot with a handle and something that looked like a long nose. She filled it up with water and put a lid on top of it, setting it on the stove and turning what looked like a plastic nob. I felt the strange material with my hands, wondering if there was a name for it. I liked the way it looked, smooth and beautiful. It was thick and rectangular and it appeared strong and sturdy, almost like it was natural. "Grandmother, is there a name for this countertop?"
"Yes, it's granite." She answered.
"It's a type of rock. Igneous I think. It's beautiful, isn't it?" She sat in the seat opposite to me and folded her hands together in her lap.
"Yes, very." I smiled at her. "And what's that?" I asked, gesturing to the stove.
"It's a tea kettle. You put water in it and heat it up so it can boil. When the water is hot enough, the kettle will whistle."
"And what do you do next?" I stood up and walked over to the stove. The burner below the kettle turned red and I reached out to touch it. A loud whistling noise pierced the air and I jumped back, frightened.
"Be careful, sweetie, it's hot." My grandmother walked over to the counter next to the refrigerator and opened what looked like two small wooden doors. Cabinets? She pulled out two glass cups and poured the hot water into them. I watched as she put two separate bags with strings connected to them in the water and let it sit. "Sugar, dear?"
"Um, sure." I answered.
"So," My grandmother started. "What do you remember?"
"I can remember some things," I answered honestly. "Simple things like objects. I can remember that those are cups and where you got them from is a cabinet. I don't remember faces or places."
"That's a shame," I saw my grandmother frown. She looked so sad and I wondered why. "You loved this house when you were a little girl."
"How long did I stay in this town?" I asked.
"Not long. You left when you were six years old. I use to visit you and your parents on holidays."
"Oh." I looked down at my hands. I knew the death of my parents was a delicate subject for her. I was okay talking about it because I can't remember them at all. I wish that I could remember my mother, my father too. I wish I could remember everything. Did I have any friends here? Were the people here as kind as my grandmother? Is everyone as kind as my grandmother?
"Grandmother," I began. "Did I have any friends?"
She stayed silent for a moment. It was almost as if she was trying to remember if I ever did talk to anyone. "There was one boy, yes. Chase, I think his name was."
"Was he the only one?" I asked, hoping that there would be at least one more person who knew me.
"None that I can remember."
I stayed silent for a moment. I was disappointed. I didn't know much and I felt even less. But if there was anything that I was sure of, it's that I'm definitely nervous about starting school on Monday. I'm eager to meet Chase, though. Hopefully we will cross paths and maybe he'll remember me because I surely don't remember him.
"What was his last name, grandmother? Um, Chase, I think?" I asked.
My grandmother looked up at me, he blue eyes smiling kindly. I didn't even know eyes could smile but hers seemed to do only what a mouth could do. "Mathews. Chase Mathews."