Annaka Page 2

  I got out and walked around the van to the driver’s side. “What are you going to do?” I asked while I buckled my seat belt.

  “I’ll be your co-pilot. I got your back.” She smiled.

  “Whatever you say.” I put the van in drive, making my way back to the road.

  Chapter 2

  I didn’t need the gps to tell me we were about fifteen minutes away. I could tell from the bumpy road and painted rocks that lined the highway. Mom was sound asleep in the passenger seat beside me. I rolled my eyes at her plan of getting me caffeinated so she could take a nap. I knew she hadn’t slept much in the past two days, so I cut her some slack and tried to avoid potholes. The sun began to creep through the clouds as we closed in on our destination. Maybe it was the town’s way of saying, “Hey, Anna and Jayla, thanks for not forgetting about us. Completely.” I wondered what had changed about the town, if anything had changed at all.

  I wondered if Mom ever regretted leaving Yarmouth a decade ago. Mom took me with her when she moved to Halifax to study illustration and fine art at NSCAD University. She would take freelance gigs and commission work to pay the bills. Some months were easier than others, but she always made it work. A few years after she graduated, the university wanted her to return as an instructor. She jumped at the idea of a stable income while also working in the arts. At first glance you’d probably assume our minivan made us some soccer family, but Mom had bought this to transport large canvases and art supplies between our apartment, her studio, and the school. As much of an imagination as I had, my doodles often felt like nothing compared to the worlds she could create on paper or canvas.

  It takes a lot of strength to get up and leave your hometown as a young single parent. My mother could have very well left me with her parents, but she didn’t. I have never met my father; all I knew is that he was from Yarmouth too. And coming back ten years later, I realized that Yarmouth isn’t a big enough town to be surrounded by strangers. I did think about how life would have been different by having a dad. I wondered if he ever thought about me, if he told his friends that he has a daughter—heck, I even wonder if he had another family and I have half-siblings I’ve never met. As much as I tried to convince myself otherwise, I wish I had a relationship with him, but Mom told me at a young age that lingering on those thoughts was dangerous. So I tried not to.

  “What did I miss?” Mom yawned.

  “Oh, you know. Ran a red, police chased us for three miles until I shrugged them off on the last exit.”

  “Not funny.”

  “A little funny. We’re actually just about there.” I signalled and took the next exit.

  Mom sighed and leaned back. She still looked anxious. Maybe she was nervous about returning? After all, she had more history in Yarmouth than I did, and returning after ten years because of losing a parent is tragic on its own. Mom always knew what to do for us, but this was something we had never experienced.

  I could see fishing docks and warehouses—I even noticed there was a new bar just by the coast called The North Crow. I had read somewhere that crows have long-lasting memories, so I hoped that meant there’d be a few folks here who remembered us.

  “There it is.” Mom pointed.

  A sign read, Welcome to the Municipality of Yarmouth.

  We were welcomed to town on a rocky dirt road surrounded by homes you wouldn’t find in the big city. I was happy to see Yarmouth not being gentrified. In Halifax it felt like a constant struggle: condos and businesses popping up out of the blue that didn’t serve the community and always made finding a home a fight. Mom and I were lucky, but a lot of folks weren’t as fortunate. So I was glad to see Yarmouth didn’t have hipster cafés or craft breweries on every corner.

  “Keep following the GPS, you can go sightseeing later,” Mom reminded me.

  I suddenly felt nervous in the driver’s seat. Add the fact that we were finally here, and emotionally I felt like a house made of cards. I continued on the road towards my grandparents’ house. We drove past the old playground with the green slide that always gave me an electric shock, and Mr. Phillip’s house that still badly needed a new coat of paint, and Ms. Layton’s corner store that always had good deals on Freezies. It made me want to jump out of the van and soak in my surroundings. Once we passed the waterfront, that’s when it really kicked in. I remember Grampy taking me down there every Sunday afternoon after church. He would buy fish and chips, and we would throw rocks in the water. He told me to wish on them, but never tell him what I wished for.

  “You feeling that too?” Mom asked, looking out towards the water.

  “Yeah. I’m feeling it pretty hard,” I replied, confirming the nostalgia that filled the air around us.

  I made a left turn at the next intersection and could see houses lined up against the ocean. We didn’t get that in Halifax. Halifax was more concrete than evergreen, there was no fantasy, only loud cars and city noise, and I didn’t miss it. Soon we’d be to Nan and Grampy’s—well, just Nan’s now—place. She lived on the edge of a lake not much farther from where we were.

  “It’s this street right up here,” Mom said, pointing.

  I turned right and we made our way up a dirt road with houses on each side. I could see Ms. Layton’s house. Then there was Mr. and Mrs. Evans’s house—they were sweethearts. Nan and Grampy had them over a lot when I was young, and I had been close with the Evans’s granddaughter, Tia. Mrs. Evans was a doctor and used to bring me stickers when she and her husband came over for dinner. I wondered if Tia was still around town. Maybe paying her a visit wouldn’t be a bad idea once I got settled in. Gosh, I missed her. I regretted not keeping in touch as much as I should have. For the first few months after Mom and I left, we would chat on the phone every Saturday afternoon. Eventually every Saturday turned into every second Saturday, to once a month, to once every six months, until Tia Evans and I faded away from one another.

  I took a deep breath as I tried to drive straight down the path. So many memories flooded my head all at once, and in front of me was the biggest one.

  “Here we are,” Mom said softly.

  I could see Grampy’s crappy charcoal barbecue on the front porch. The top of my tree house could be seen just around the corner of the house, and Grampy’s red antique truck was parked in front of the garage. I got out of the van and walked straight to the old thing. I rested my hand on the aging hood. I noticed it was beginning to rust by the wheels. I loved that thing so much, and so did he. It was more than a truck; it was our airplane, rocket ship, dream-mobile.

  “Hello!” I heard Mom calling out. “Anyone home?”

  “Who’s that I hear?” someone replied, opening the front door. It was an older white man wearing a golf cap and a blue button-up shirt.

  “Mr. Evans!” Mom smiled.

  Mr. Evans looked a lot older since the last time I saw him; he now leaned on a cane and his once-brown hair was distinctly salt and pepper.

  Mom gave him a warm embrace and he said, “Jayla, you’ve known me long enough to call me Ben.” He smiled. “Lillian is inside with your mother.”

  “Thank you so much for taking care of her,” Mom said. “And thank you for handling the arrangements for Dad.”

  “We’re always here, dear. I’m so sorry for your loss. Rudy was family to us, and so are you.”

  “Thank you, Ben.”

  “And is that Annaka I see?” Ben asked.

  “Hey, Ben.” I waved. “I just go by Anna now.”

  “Well, hello, Anna. I have to say, I prefer Annaka.”

  “It doesn’t matter what you prefer,” I let him know. “My name is Anna.”

  Mom gave me a look, but I was over letting people calling me what they think I should be called. I could let a lot of things pass, but I don’t let people decide my name for me.

  “Okay, Anna,” Ben said, looking a bit stunned. “Hey listen, Tia is s
till around. She works at Ms. Layton’s convenience store just down the way. Would be nice if you popped in to say hello.”

  I wondered if she even remembered me.

  “It would be nice to see her,” I replied. “I’ll try to stop by in a bit.”

  “I should probably go inside,” Mom said. “You coming, Anna?”

  I shook my head. “Not yet. I think I’m gonna take a minute. It was a long drive.”

  “All right, I’ll be inside, hon.”

  After Ben and Mom went inside, I went around to the backyard and looked at the lake. I remember Nan teaching me how to swim in that lake. That’s a memory I held close. I didn’t want to go inside because I feared it was a memory she no longer had. I wasn’t ready for that. I knew she was in there, and I didn’t want to be a stranger to her. Not yet. I wanted to take some time and spend the last bit of ignorance I had to enjoy a sunset. I didn’t want to think about the future, or Grampy’s funeral, or Nan not remembering who her granddaughter was. I wanted to remember the woman who taught me how to swim, and the stubborn man who didn’t know when to throw away his crappy barbecue. I wanted to be in a place where I didn’t have to worry about the rest of the world. I was scared that Yarmouth probably wasn’t the place I remembered.

  I couldn’t hide my smile when I turned to the tree house. I climbed the ladder and could see the sun sinking beneath the lake. Everything outside was just the way it always was, but I knew inside everything would be different. I didn’t want to cry yet. The world was slowly taking everything away from me but I wouldn’t let it take away that view. I remember Grampy and I would use his old binoculars to look across the lake from our perch in the tree house. And on warm nights I would sneak out here with Clay and we’d use them, trying to follow the stars while the Milky Way was visible above us. The binoculars weren’t there now, but I looked across the lake and in the fading light I could just make out small boats and folks relaxing on a dock in beach chairs. I wish I felt as relaxed as they looked.

  I sat there for a while. Eventually the moon made its way to the sky, and I saw constellations I hadn’t seen in years; I was happy to know they hadn’t gone anywhere. Unlike the stars, Clay must have moved on a long time ago. I sighed. It was time go inside and face my fears. I climbed down the ladder and walked back towards the porch. I heard Mom’s voice from inside as I passed an open window.

  “It’s worse than I thought,” she was saying.

  I paused and heard another voice, which I assumed was Lillian’s.

  “I know, darling. This is a difficult time and you haven’t had an easy go. There are options, though.” She paused. “Have you thought about moving her into a home?”

  I made sure I was out of eyesight and sat down so I could continue listening.

  “She’s my Mom, Lillian. I can’t leave her to die in an old folks’ home. I just lost Dad.” Her voice started to give out. I had never heard Mom cry before.

  “Oh, come here, sweetie,” I heard Lillian say.

  I could hear Mom sobbing. I felt those tears flood my heart; it was beginning to sink. I just sat there feeling helpless. There are few things more uncomfortable than hearing your mother cry. Moms are supposed to know how to deal with everything…and if this broke her, what impact was it going to have on me? I was scared to see her—both of them—but I knew I had to stand up and make my way inside.

  “This way, Tanya.” I heard Ben’s voice before I turned the corner.

  “Nan’s name.” I whispered to myself. I could hear them sitting down on creaking chairs on the front porch. It was now or never. I made my way toward the creaking and said, “Hey” in a shy voice.

  “Anna,” Ben greeted me awkwardly. I knew he didn’t want to be there for this. “I thought you were in the backyard.”

  “I was, but it’s getting late and we’ve been on the road all day.” I made my way up the steps, and that’s when I saw her. She looked a lot older and a lot smaller. Her hair was white. She didn’t even acknowledge me.

  And that’s when I choked up.

  “Anna, maybe go inside?” Ben suggested.

  Nan looked over at me. Her face didn’t light up when she saw me this time. She observed me for a minute and then she turned to Ben and asked, “She’s the other one? She’s moving in too?”

  The other one? My name is Anna, I wanted to scream, not The Other One. I looked into Nan’s eyes but they were blank. She looked at me as if I was a visitor.

  My arms and my legs felt completely numb after that. That was the only confirmation I needed. The memories of Nan teaching me how to swim, of her braiding my hair, of her teaching me how to play cards, of watching TV with her on the couch, and the memories of all the times we spent together…were gone.

  I closed my eyes and let out a heavy breath.

  “Anna,” Ben said. “Anna, I think you should go inside to your mother.”

  I fought the tears as best as I could, and turned back down the path. The tears started rolling down my cheeks. I was a stranger to her. I didn’t want to see my mom or be in that house. I just wanted to get away from it all. For so long, I had wanted to return to Yarmouth. But I wasn’t ready for any of it. I wasn’t ready to return to a memory that didn’t remember me.

  Chapter 3

  I walked to the main road and counted the street lights for a while. I couldn’t believe I was nothing more than a stranger to my grandmother. I knew deep down it would happen, but I really didn’t know how much it would actually hurt. Mom had been trying to prepare me for the last couple of days, but I don’t think anything could have eased that blow. I felt aimless walking down the road but I eventually found myself in a familiar surrounding. I decided to keep going, I needed a clear mind.

  I eventually made it to the downtown area and noticed most shops were closed. I remembered Main Street pretty well from my childhood. Every street corner I could look down and see the ocean. The weather was warm, but it wasn’t summer by any stretch, so I wasn’t sure if the vendors on the waterfront were open yet. Fish and chips didn’t sound like a bad idea, but then I saw the lights were still on at Ms. Layton’s corner store across the street. I hadn’t eaten anything since the burger I’d scarfed down on the road, and I could feel my stomach rumbling for a snack. It was half past eight, so I assumed I had at least a half hour before they closed. Small town hours. I didn’t see anyone near the cash so I went straight for the candy section.

  “Uh…hello?” I spoke to the universe. “Anyone here?”

  “Oh shit, fuck. I thought the door was locked,” I heard a whisper from the other end of the store. The whisper turned into a woman’s voice at the end of one of the aisles. “The store is closed.” This was followed by footsteps coming in my direction.

  “We close at eight,” she said as she turned the corner. Her look of annoyance froze as she recognized my face.

  It was Tia Evans, my fearless, rebellious childhood best friend.

  “Woah! Annaka Brooks?” She was a lot taller than I remembered, and her hair was a lot shorter.

  “Tia? Is that you?” I could not hide the grin sliding across my face.

  “You get that from my name tag?” She pointed at it while laughing.

  “No, I got it from your potty mouth.” I pulled her into a tight hug.

  “Dude, what the hell? It’s been so long!” She hugged me back with a big squeeze.

  It had been a while since I had one of those, and I didn’t realize how much I needed it. Tia was my “real life best friend,” if that made sense. No stage lights or special effects—what you see is what you get with Tia. I remember when we were kids she would stress out her father, Jonathan, so much when he watched us. If you took your eyes off her for a second, she was already a block away. Sure, she could sometimes be a handful, but she was always fun.

  “It took you ten years to grow taller than me,” I teased her.

&nbs
p; “Pffft! It actually only took one. I had a growth spurt after you left. Sorry, I didn’t mean to kick you out of the store,” she continued. “When did you get in?”

  “Just today actually. I needed a walk after being on the road all day. Guess I’ve been soaking in the surroundings.”

  “Not much has changed, as you can see.” Tia shrugged.

  “That’s not always a bad thing,” I replied. “I should probably get out of here so you can close.” I made my way to the door.

  “Wait, what are you doing? Like, right now? My car is just in the parking lot. Let me close up and I’ll buy you some fish and chips and we can catch up on the waterfront.”

  “I like that idea a lot.” I smiled.

  A little while later, we sat on a bench at the waterfront eating fish and chips from takeout plates. I looked around and it felt like stepping back in time. I looked down the same docks Tia and I played on when we were young. I still remember her dad chasing us when we’d run off. It was a fun memory for us, but I’m sure it raised his blood pressure. The weirdest part of it all was that nothing changed. The waterfront, the docks, the building surrounding it all, looked exactly the same. But there I was with Tia, both of us knowing we had a decade’s worth of catching up to do. I guess we changed even if our town didn’t.

  “God, I really didn’t expect to see you tonight, dude,” Tia cut into my thoughts. “Did you run into my grandparents?”

  “Yeah, I saw your grandfather earlier. He was with my grandmother on the front porch.”

  “How’s she doing?” Tia asked, taking a bite of fish.

  “Not how I remember her.” I paused. “I was a total stranger to her.”

  Tia put her fish down. “Damn, Annaka. I’m really sorry. We don’t have to talk about that if you don’t want to.”

  “It’s just Anna, now. And thanks. Today has been one of the longest days of my life.” I looked up at the sky. “Are you coming to the funeral?”