From: "Emily Miller " Subject: Before: Memory 1/1 E.MILLER Date sent: Wed, 12 Nov 1997 16:46:49 -0600 ARCHIVE: Anywhere DISCLAIMER: Nobody belongs to me. They belong to Chris Carter. CLASSIFICATION: VA RATING: G SUMMARY: A memory of Samantha-- or is it? My Webpage: http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Rampart/8203/ Before: Memory [1/1] E.MILLER ____________________________________________________________________________ Memories were an escape. He could remember a good day from back then, a bad day, an adventure, anything, and things, for awhile, would be better. He was good at remembering things. When he thought about incidents from his life up until just over a year before, he would BE there. Like it was happening then, at the time. But, always, he knew exactly when and where everything he discovered hiding in his mind had happened. He was never sure when something would make him think of an earlier event. Once, the smell of new paint reminded him of the time he had drawn all over her walls with crayons when he was mad because she got something when they went shopping and he didn't. Then there were the ones that SEEING something brought on. Two girls yelling at an older boy reminded him of her friends bothering him. Or sometimes, rarely, a feeling or sound made him recall a distant time. But, only once, all four things surfaced a day he couldn't remember no matter how hard he tried. It was a warm day in late spring when it happened. He was sitting on the grass, watching the other seventh graders yell and cheer at the eighth graders playing basketball. He could smell the grass, something that always reminded him of days like this one. He could see, but not hear, the smaller kids playing at the day care across the street. One girl looked so much like her it made his throat close with threatening tears. And there was suddenly a vision of an earlier time. He knew it was an earlier time, because she was there. About 4 years old, it looked like. So it was a long ago earlier time. They were in a field of grass and small pink and purple flowers. She was picking the flowers, stooped on the ground, carefully examining each flower before pulling it up. He was standing just a few feet away, not doing anything, just watching. He was confused now. It was obviously spring there, too- the sun was shining above, the breeze that made her hair fall into his eyes and the grass gently wave and whisper warm- but he had no idea where they were. And there were no grown-ups to be seen. Even more confusing was her. She was wearing a nice pink sweater he didn't remember her ever having and her hair was tied out of her face with a matching ribbon. She'd always had braids. He didn't say a word as she continued to pick the flowers, didn't speak when she stood up, turned, and ran to him. "Here!" She said, handing him the flowers, then smiling up expectantly. He took them, and smiled back. "They're nice." Her smile widened, and he knew she was surprised. He wasn't all that nice to her very often. She took advantage of it. "C'mon!" She yelled, and raced off across the field. He shoved the flowers in his jeans pocket and ran after her. "Better run faster!" He called as he got closer. She turned to see where he was and then went faster. But he still caught up and half-tackled her. She fell, laughing, on the grass. "Don't hurt me, don't hurt me!" She giggled as he pretended to threaten to step on her. Then he collapsed beside her. "Hey, look. The moon!" He pointed it out to her. "What's it doing out now? It's only afternoon." "Maybe it's watching us. I bet it wishes it could be out playing with its younger sister." "And its big brother, who's the nicest big brother in the whole world!" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Fox! Fox Mulder!" The voice jerked him from one of the best things he'd EVER recalled. Even if he didn't remember when or where it had happened. Maybe he'd imagined it. "Fox Mulder!" He stood up and turned to see who was calling him, then realized the bell had rung and the other kids had gone inside. It was probably his dumb teacher, yelling at him for being late. But it wasn't. It was the second grade teacher. "Fox? Can I talk to you?" She asked. "Sure," He said. She smiled sadly. "I was cleaning out my desk yesterday and found something I think you'll want. It's an old paper of Samantha's. I had the class write a short story about a perfect day they'd like to have, and she worked for HOURS on it. She was so proud of it, I promised I'd hang it up in the classroom, but before I had the chance..." He knew she was trying to be nice, even though he wished people could just come out and say 'kidnapped' like they wanted to. That was what everybody thought had happened, anyway. "Thanks," He said. She smiled again, and handed him the the paper. Then she left, without even telling him he was late for class. He looked at what he was now holding, and saw that it was more than just a report. She'd done a whole book. It had a cover- "My Perfect Day, By Samantha Mulder" it said, in her careful but hard-to-read print. The inside, only half a page long, was written in clearly struggled-on writing. MY PERFECT DAY WOULD BE ONE WITH MY BIG BROTHER FOX. WE WOULD GO TO PLAY SOMEWHERE WITH NO ADULTS IN A FIELD OF FLOWERS. WE WOULD JUST RUN AND PLAY AND HAVE FUN WITHOUT ANYBODY SAYING IT WAS TIME TO GO INSIDE AND GET READY FOR BED OR EAT OUR DINNER BEFORE WE WERE READY TO GO IN. IT WOULD BE THE BEST PLACE TO BE IN THE WHOLE WORLD, AND WE WOULD GET TO STAY BY OURSELVES ALL DAY. FIRST I WOULD PICK FLOWERS WHILE I TOLD FOX TO GO DO SOMETHING ELSE SO HE WOULD NOT KNOW WHAT I WAS DOING. THEN WHEN I HAD GOTTEN LOTS OF FLOWERS REALLY PRETTY COLORS THE PERFECT ONES I WOULD GIVE THEM TO HIM. HE WOULD LIKE THE A LOT AND WOULD THANK ME FOR THEM WHICH HE WOULD NOT DO IN REAL LIFE. THEN WE WOULD JUST RUN AND RUN UNTIL WE COULD NOT RUN ANYMORE JUST TO HAVE FUN. I WOULD PROBABLY GET TIRED FIRST AND HE WOULD PRETEND TO PUSH ME DOWN AND THAT HE WAS GOING TO HURT ME BY STEPPING ON ME. BUT HE WOULD JUST BE KIDDING AND WE WOULD LAUGH. THEN HE WOULD FALL DOWN WITH ME AND WE WOULD LOOK AND SEE IF THE MOON WAS OUT. I SAW IT ONCE DURING THE DAY ON THE WAY TO SCHOOL AND WE WOULD SEE IF IT WAS OUT AGAIN. AND THEN WE WOULD GO HOME AND GET TO HAVE GOOD STUFF FOR DINNER AND THEN WE WOULD WATCH A GOOD MOVIE WE BOTH LIKED ON TV. THAT WOULD BE A REALLY PERFECT DAY, BECAUSE FOX IS MY BEST FRIEND. He was crying when he finished. How could she have thought that much of him when he'd always been so mean to her? She must have been the best kid in the whole world. Definitely not one that deserved what had happened to her. At that moment, stading alone on a warm spring morning with his sister's book in his hand and tears running down his face, he made up his mind that he would find her. No matter what.