Riveder le Stelle, Part IV

Luke Altman

This is part of a serial story. Click to read the first, second or third parts.

IV.

“If you remember Her, you’ll not be lost,” Bell had said long ago. “Or, if you cannot remember Her as herself, then at least remember what she looks like. That will keep you going strong, my boy.” Bell had said this to Lane countless times, from his boyhood onward. His constant referral to “Her,” or “She,” always confused Lane. The first time he had heard it he was eight years old. At that time he had not yet taken any interest in the “shes” around him. Yet, Bell spoke of this “She” as someone of greater importance, and soon after Lane always put himself on the watch for Her, whenever She would come along, so he could remember what She looked like.

“If you remember Her, you’ll not be lost.” Those had also been the last words that Bell had told him. By that time Lane had met Tara. By that time Bell knew Tara quite well, almost as well as Lane knew her. And though Bell held Tara in high regard, both he and Lane knew that “She” was not Tara.

“Remember what She looks like, Lane, my boy,” Bell had often told Lane in his gruff but even voice. “Lots of them will try to look like Her, but not many do. You’re lucky when you find one who does look like Her, and so is She.” Lane never understood that until Bell died. Even now, as he recalled what Bell told him he could not understand it.

That was the only thing Lane could remember at this point. His memory was now almost completely gone. Right now, all Lane remembered were those few, meaningful words of Bell. He did not remember why he was walking with a bloody knife in his hand and a hot rifle slung on his shoulder. He did not even remember how or why he had gotten into these woods. Nor did he remember how his left shoulder had gotten to hurting so badly. Obviously he did not remember when night had fallen, though he did have some suspicion that it had been a long time since he had seen the sun. He did not remember his destination, nor his origin. He did not even remember the city. All he recalled were the small bits of counsel Bell had given him, a few sentences out of so many that held meaning.

Regardless of his lack of memory, he did know quite a lot. At least he thought he knew a lot, considering the situation. He knew that he was hurt and bleeding. He knew that it was dark all around him. Lane also knew that he was lost, for he did not remember where he was at all. From that knowledge he deduced that he was looking for something, but he could not recall what he sought. He also knew that he was very tired. It must have been from all the walking he had done to get himself lost in this forest. Lane knew that he was hungry and thirsty, for he did not remember that he had both food and water in his pack. He did not even remember that he was wearing a pack.

None of that made him sad, though. He did not remember Her, and that made him miserable. He could not remember Her face at all. Nor could Lane recall what She looked like, so he was not able to search for any that looked like Her. He knew that Bell would be ashamed of him. Though he did not remember, Bell’s talk about Her had been the subject from which all his advice, counsel, and teaching had began.

A few days before Lane’s eighth birthday his parents had disappeared. No one ever knew what exactly happened to them. Some said they ran off, away from their home in the city. Others said they died. Still others claimed they heard the jackals hunt and kill them. No one did ever know, though, which was why his parents never appeared in the obituaries. Then again, the obituaries never mentioned Bell’s death either. On his eighth birthday, his caretakers introduced him to Bell. Soon after they also disappeared, leaving Bell to raise and tutor Lane from then on.

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