The Stories We're Told

So where do I go from here? The last two days have left me rattled. For ten years, I’ve been steady in my belief that if I just do what’s expected, I’ll be okay. Maybe not happy, but at least okay. But Glen’s recent revelations about my past have shaken me.

Before meeting Glen, our school janitor and gardener, my earliest memories were of being at the Home for Abandoned Children, which is Arcadia’s group home for children whose parents were killed during the uprising against the Arcadian Council. Except my parents weren’t killed - they left Arcadia without me. But when Glen said they would never have abandoned me and that they tried to protect me, memories came flooding back. But how do I trust those memories when everyone who has kept me safe since then has told me something else?

When I get back to the Home after school, I head for the lounge to see if Emily is back from the school musical auditions.

“Hey, how did auditions go?” She looks up at me and I know. “What happened?”

“I sang really well. I know I did...the best even. But I’m just in the chorus.”

“Did you ask about it?”

“Oh Anya, it doesn’t matter. I’m not going to make trouble even if it’s not fair.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Mrs. Lambeth, one of the Caretakers, walks in and comes over to me. “Anya, you’re needed in the kitchen early tonight. Report to Mrs. Shelley now and you will still need to help her after dinner. Maybe you’ll learn that you don’t get to run off and do whatever you want here.”

I know all too well that running away brings trouble. If I hadn’t run away that night when I was six, maybe my parents would still be here.

I’m actually glad to go to Mrs. Shelley. Ever since seeing her wearing my mother’s locket last night, I've been anxious to speak to her alone. As I head into the kitchen, I find her chopping vegetables. I don’t see the locket but maybe it’s just tucked into her shirt again.

“Hi Anya. Come help me with these potatoes.”

I grab a knife and start slicing. “Mrs. Shelley, yesterday I saw you wearing my mother’s heart-shaped locket. Where did you get it?”

“Anya, I don’t know what you are talking about. That was just some necklace that’s been in my family for years.”

“Can I see it?”

“No, I don’t have it on me. Besides, why would I have your mother’s locket? She was a traitor after all. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”

I couldn’t deny it. That’s what the Caretakers have always told me. Maybe I’m wrong about the locket. I can barely remember my mother’s face so how can I remember a necklace she wore?

Trust no one, Glen had said. No one, including myself, it seems.

“So I hear you’re working with Glen at school to repair the classroom garden you destroyed.”

I nod as I continue chopping.

“What do you two talk about?” Her tone was friendly, innocuous, but something was off.

“Not much, he just got the cleaning supplies and showed me the gardening shed today. Yesterday was the first time I met him.”

“Hmm.” Mrs. Shelley grabbed the potatoes and turned towards the stove, the conversation over.

The next day, after a sleepless night, my mind is wandering during math. I used to be better at paying attention, at maintaining the appearance of doing what was expected. I don’t know what’s going on with me this week. Even before Glen told me he knew my parents weren’t traitors, something had been bubbling under the surface.

I zone back in to catch the last part of Ms. Henry’s announcement. “So if you’d like to represent West High in the math competition next month, just see me after class. Alright, that’s it for today. I’ll see you on Monday.”

I linger, waiting for a few other students to let Ms. Henry know of their interest before approaching her. “Did you need something, Anya?”

“I’d like to be part of the math competition.” I’m still struggling to look people in the eye. I take a breath and continue. “I always do really well on your exams and I think I could be good at the competition.”

I can see Ms. Henry hesitate. “Well yes, Anya, you have done fairly well on the concepts in here. But for these competitions, it takes more. Most students get their parents to help prepare and they have to have someone drive them there, and … well, you know. I just don’t think it makes sense.”

Yeah, I know. It wouldn’t be right for someone like me to represent the school. It never has been...but what if I’m destined for more?

After school I head to see Glen in the garden shed. I’m not sure I want to. I’m torn between wanting to know more about my parents and holding onto the story I’ve known for so long. Unfortunately, my history teacher, Mr. Dunbar is there too.

“Ah, Anya, I was just telling Glen that I really need that garden replaced as soon as possible. I’m sure you don’t mind working over the weekend to make that happen.”

“No, Mr. Dunbar, I don’t mind.”

“Great,” says Glen. “But we are out of the mint and lavender plants here so you’ll need to help me gather more. Why don’t you go on home and we’ll just meet at 8 tomorrow morning. Do you know the old brown barn? It’s about a mile or so past the Home, along the stream. There’s a lot of plants growing around there. Just follow that path. I’ll see you then. We can have Mr. Dunbar clear it with your Caretakers, right Mr. Dunbar?”

I don’t remember having ever been to the old barn, but until two days ago I didn’t remember spending time in those woods with my parents and their friends when I was little either. When I get to the barn, I find Glen inside.

“Is this place safe? It looks like it’s about to fall down,” I say.

“Yeah, it’s certainly changed a lot in ten years.”

A memory surfaces. “Didn’t there used to be a ladder here?”

“Yeah,” Glen answers. “What else do you remember?”

I tell him about how two days ago I started remembering happy times with my parents out here, listening to them passionately talking into the night with friends about creating a better life for everyone, not just the Chosen of Arcadia. I tell him about my mother’s locket and Mrs. Shelley’s strange behavior and about the night ten years ago when I saw my parents’ lifeless bodies dragged from our home by the Council Security Forces.

“But those memories aren’t real. I think I just made them up when I was little, when my parents first abandoned me.”

“They’re real, Anya. I knew your parents then. They’re good people. What do you remember about going to the Home back then?”

I’m six years old, waiting in the young girls’ dorm room for the Caretaker to come back. I had been in the sick room for a few days, since I first came to the Home. I want my mommy and daddy and I want to go home, to my real home.

The lady comes back in. “Where’s my mommy and daddy? Where did they take them? I saw them with the soldiers and they were hurt.”

“Nobody took your mom and dad, Anya. They left you. Our brave soldiers found you wandering outside at night alone,” Mrs. Lambeth said.

“But why didn’t my parents take me with them?”

“You ran away and your mommy and daddy got mad and left you. It’s a good thing too because they were bad people and betrayed Arcadia. You weren’t safe with them, but if you be a good girl and do what you’re told, you’ll be safe here.”

But I don’t remember my parents being mad at me. Didn’t my mommy tell me to run away when the bad soldiers came?

“I don’t know, Glen. I don’t know. This is all so confusing. I’m not sure what to believe. Where are my parents?”

“Did you ever wonder why you were told they left Arcadia? Think about it...how many people caught in the Uprising left? None, right? No one leaves. The traitors all were killed, right? So why not your parents?”

“I don’t know! Why did they leave me?”

“Anya, do you really believe that? Search your heart.”

“You keep saying that but how am I supposed to believe something that goes against everything I’ve known for so long?”

“How does the Council benefit from making everyone believe your parents left?”

They had friends back then, friends who listened to them long into the night. “They wanted to turn us against my parents, make us think they were no good. Was the Council afraid of them?”

“Brian and Melissa are loved by a lot of folks here. People will follow them.”

Someone is walking on the path outside the barn. Glen motions for us to go out and start gathering the mint and lavender that grows nearby. We speak no more of the past.

Monday’s classes are utter torture. I wasn’t able to speak to Glen any more about my parents the rest of the weekend. As soon as the last period is over, I rush down towards his office in the basement. As I approach the stairs, I hear a commotion. Glen is being escorted in handcuffs by two security force members.

“Clear the way. We have a traitor to Arcadia here.”

I try to catch Glen’s eye but he gives me a slight shake of the head to warn me away. So I just watch them drag him away, doing nothing. Keeping my head down, doing what I’m told, staying safe. My shame engulfs me.

Emily joins me for the walk home. “Did you hear about the janitor they arrested?” she says. “I wonder what he did. Do you think he killed someone?”

“No, he didn’t kill anyone.” He didn’t do anything...it was me, always me.

I can’t sleep again. I’m glad as older girls, we get our own rooms because I don’t think I can be around anyone else right now. I know they must have been watching Glen and maybe even me but I can’t understand why. I’ve done what they’ve asked, showing compliance at every turn. They’ve always treated me like I’m useless and have ignored me, so why watch me now?

I feel like I should do something to help Glen. But what? I’m not brave and I have no one to help me. But I can’t just let this go.

I need to get back to the school garden shed. Glen showed me that box buried in the compost the other day. It must be important - I need to go tonight.

I’ve never snuck out of the Home before and my heart is beating so loudly I’m convinced it will wake the Caretakers. I head to school and thankfully the shed isn’t locked. I dig through the compost bin until I feel the small metal box. There’s just enough light streaming through the windows to see, and I try to open it up. It’s locked, as expected. Your heart is the key, Glen had said.

The locket - my mom’s heart-shaped locket! I shove the box in my backpack and make my way back to the Home. I don’t know how I’m going to get the locket back from Mrs. Shelley or even if that’s what Glen meant. I scramble up the trellis next to my window and make my way back into my room. I carefully shut the window as the lamp on my desk flickers on.

“Hello Anya.” Mrs. Shelley is waiting for me.