{"id":2152,"date":"2020-12-12T20:24:47","date_gmt":"2020-12-13T03:24:47","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/?p=2152"},"modified":"2020-12-19T19:11:30","modified_gmt":"2020-12-20T02:11:30","slug":"as-a-family","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/2020\/12\/12\/as-a-family\/","title":{"rendered":"As a Family"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

prompt: Write about a character discovering something new about their past that changes how they remember an important moment….<\/em><\/em>
available at Reedsy<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The attempted assassination of Prime Minister Haidara on my seventh birthday, a bright Thursday morning, stunned the Federation and brought the city to a grinding halt. School was disrupted by the news, and the instructor left the holo on all day as we waited to see if she would survive. By the end of the school day it was obvious she would, and we went home.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Throughout the block adults were crying, wandering around in shock, or silently drinking with nothing more than a sad nod between them. As children, we understood that it was an important event, but we didn\u2019t fully understand it. I returned to an empty flat to do my school work and wait for my mother to return. Except, that day I had no school work to do, and she never came home.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

On a normal day, I\u2019d do my school work until my mother returned from her shift as a firefighter. She\u2019d make a light dinner and then argue with the holo. I never understood it. They weren\u2019t listening; it was a show, not a call. She\u2019d get agitated and keep arguing until I turned off the holo. She\u2019d say \u201cthank you, sweetie\u201d and kiss me goodnight. This wasn\u2019t a normal day.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A police officer woke me in the middle of the night. She said my mother had an accident and wasn\u2019t coming home; she was dead. I was angry. \u201cHow come the Prime Minister gets to be okay but not my mother? You\u2019re police, help her! Why didn\u2019t you help her? She wasn\u2019t here for my birthday!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Instead of answering the rage and fear of a child, she held me as I wept, and she wept with me. She smelled like flowers and held me until I cried myself to sleep. She carried me, asleep, to the main police station on the zeroth floor and held me through the night.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The next day I went into foster care, with Ms Elma, an older woman who had a two-room flat on the 50th<\/sup> floor of the block. It was like the one I\u2019d lived in with my mother, but covered in kitschy nicknacks and floral prints, with an obscene amount of potpourri in little jars on every surface. It was like suffocating under a fluffy blanket.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When she first came to visit, I didn\u2019t recognize her. A tall, ebon-skinned woman with deep brown eyes, a halo of black curls, and sharp cheekbones, standing outside the flat. \u201cIs it okay if I visit with you, Markus?\u201d Her accent was lilting, like some of the instructors, especially the ones that taught Bambara and French.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I nodded and she came in, her lavender dress floating with every step. She greeted the old lady then sat on the floor in front of me. When she got close I smelled the flowers. I fell into her lap and let her rock me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDo you remember my name?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I shook my head. Everything from the past the few days was a blur, except that the Prime Minister lived, and my mother died.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMy name is Violet Samassa. I wanted to see how you\u2019re doing.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI want to go home.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI know, little one.\u201d She smoothed my tousled blonde curls and I wondered at how pale I was against her rich skin. \u201cYou\u2019ll be here for a little while, until we can find a forever home for you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I whispered in her ear, \u201cI don\u2019t like it here. Can I go with you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She hugged me close. \u201cI have a son. He\u2019s your age exactly. You were both born on the same day. Tomorrow, I\u2019ll bring him and we\u2019ll go for ice cream. How does that sound?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I nodded, afraid that if I said anything more she would leave. Instead, I clung on, hoping for the moment to last. It didn\u2019t.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI need to get to work,\u201d she said. \u201cI\u2019m on the night shift now, but I\u2019ll see you tomorrow after school, yes?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI don\u2019t want to go back to school.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh but you must,\u201d she said. She leaned close and whispered, \u201cit will get you out of here for a few hours.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When I returned to the classroom the next day, the other students avoided me. They looked away when I turned toward them. I\u2019d become invisible. Only one student paid any attention to me. I didn\u2019t know him, but I recognized him from the class. He came over without saying a word and gave me a hug. It was all I could do not to cry.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m sad your mom died,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMe too,\u201d was all I could get out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

After that, he sat with me for the whole class and did his best to cheer me up. I think he got me to laugh a little when he made fart noises behind the instructor\u2019s back. After a day that passed mostly in a fog, we walked to the lifts together and rode up. As I got off on the 50th<\/sup> floor he said, \u201cSee you tomorrow.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When Violet showed up at the flat an hour later, she introduced her son, who laughed and made the fart noise again. He hugged me, and she looked at him with eyes wide. \u201cYou didn\u2019t tell me you knew Markus.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI didn\u2019t know his name,\u201d he said, \u201cbut we\u2019re friends now. Right?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cRight,\u201d I answered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWell, Markus, this is my son, Ash.\u201d She rubbed the close-cropped black curls on his head. \u201cDid you know you both have the same birthday?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTwins!\u201d Ash put his arm around me. \u201cCome on, twin, let\u2019s get ice cream!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ms Elma didn\u2019t look away from the holo the entire time this was going on. It was just as well, as the few times she\u2019d tried talking to me were annoying and awkward. After ice cream, I ended up spending the night with them. And begged her to let me stay.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A month later, Violet and Ash surprised me with a late birthday party at their flat. My present was the adoption papers she\u2019d started. While it wouldn\u2019t be complete for a while, Ms Elma was fine with me moving into their place right away. I stopped calling myself Markus Plesh and started calling myself Markus Samassa.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Within a year Violet became \u201cmom,\u201d both officially and in my heart and mind, while Ash and I became twins for anyone who asked. I still missed my biological mother, but I remembered her less well as the time passed. The more my new mom tried to find out about my mother\u2019s death, the more walls she ran into. My mother was one of eight people from Block 17 whose death on that date was sealed under injunction from the Defense Force Intelligence service.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Although she wouldn’t talk about it, it became apparent to Ash and me that mom had some demon related to that<\/em> day. Our birthdays were often frantic affairs, full with as many activities as possible. We thought at one time she was doing it to help make the day joyful, rather than a day of mourning. As we grew older though, we noticed the haunted look in her eyes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At eighteen I tried finding out what could about my biological mother\u2019s death. I figured it had something to do with her work as a fire fighter. Why would the Defense Force hide the \u201cnon-work-related accident\u201d of a member? Still, all the records were sealed, even for next-of-kin. I put a notice in public records to ping my comms whenever any information about her death became public and set it aside. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ash and I chose police for our mandatory service. Mom talked to us before we left. “I’m not going to say this more than once. If you need to pull your weapon to protect someone else, don’t hesitate. If it’s to protect yourself, you need  to make that decision then.” The haunted look returned. “I don’t think I could live with myself if I hadn’t been protecting others. I just hope neither of you have to do such a thing.” That was the only time we\u2019d heard she had ever<\/em> had to fire her weapon.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

With that bit of information I checked the public police records around the assassination attempt. Mom was on duty that day, in the protection detail as the Prime Minister toured the outside of Blocks 17 and 19. She was one of four officers who fired back. She was off the following day, then moved to night shift, at her request.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When we finished our mandatory service, Ash and I followed in mom’s footsteps, staying on with the police. Ash moved around every few years, while I just stuck with the place I was first assigned out of mandies, Erinle, the second planet in the Dem system.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhere were you when the Prime Minister was shot?\u201d Major Karter was leaning back in her chair. She always seemed to be on the verge of tipping over \u2014 but never did that I<\/em> saw.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“What brought that up?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Just realized it’s almost 25 years ago, now, but it’s the first big<\/em> thing I remember as a kid,\u201d she said. “Makes me feel old. I was in third grade then, skipping classes and hanging around the block when all the holos started showing it. You?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cFirst grade classroom, Block 17, Bamako,\u201d I answered. \u201cBut that\u2019s also my birthday, and the day my mother died.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYour mother\u2019s a police officer on Sol 3,\u201d she said, letting her long, silky blue hair dangle to the floor behind her. She picked a pretzel out of the bowl on her desk and threw it at me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMy biological mother died. Commodore Samassa is my adopted mom.\u201d I walked over and looked down in her eyes, the same blue as her hair, in a pale face dotted with freckles. \u201cDon\u2019t forget, I\u2019m going back to Earth for Ash\u2019s and my birthday this evening. I\u2019ll be back in two weeks.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She sat up in a flash, nearly bumping my head, the front of the chair slamming down on the floor. \u201cThat\u2019s today?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo, four days from now,\u201d I said. \u201cThe commercial liner from here to the Sol 3 gate is over sixty hours.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cRight, I knew that,\u201d she said, fishing out another pretzel, \u201cI was talking about the leaving part. Thought you were leaving tomorrow. Your brother going to be there too?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cEvery year. He\u2019s got it easier, though,\u201d I said. \u201cHe\u2019s stationed on Luna now, so it\u2019s a short hop for him.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSo how did you end up out here?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cLuck of the draw straight out of mandies, then the place kind of grew on me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt does that,\u201d she said. \u201cYou know, they say that the forests around here are what Earth used to look like a long time ago.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMaybe,\u201d I said, \u201cbut it\u2019s the ocean that I love. The clean, salt air when I\u2019m outside the block, the gulls \u2014 just pulls me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019re weird. You could get the same lots of places on Earth \u2013 like Maude, Antarctica. Hey,\u201d she raised her comm, \u201cdo me a favor and get some good coffee while you\u2019re there? A couple kilos of the Ethiopian beans.\u201d She flicked her comm, sending authorization for purchase on her behalf to my comm.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSure thing, Major.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSorry I didn\u2019t get your present yet, It\u2019ll be at your desk when you get back. And don\u2019t argue with your mother when she starts talking about a promotion.\u201d She smiled. \u201cMother knows best, right, Master Sergeant?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI just got this.\u201d I pointed to the rank on my collar tab. \u201cYou trying to get rid of me to battalion?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNot trying to get rid of you. They\u2019re moving me to battalion next month. I\u2019m trying to get you there so that when I<\/em> go I\u2019ll have at least one person I can put up with.\u201d She laughed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cRight, but I doubt it.\u201d As I gathered my things to leave she was leaning back in her chair again. \u201cAnd don\u2019t fall and bust your ass, sir. I need to know I\u2019m coming back to a commander without a stick up their butt.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDon\u2019t doubt my word, Markus! Or<\/em> my balance!\u201d She threw another pretzel at me and I dodged it and slipped out the door.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The trip was a long stretch of boredom bookended with frantic changeovers. Train to shuttle to station to liner; sixty long, slow hours of super-C; then liner to station to shuttle to train and, finally, to Block 17.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Accustomed to making the long trip annually, I used the sixty hours of boredom to shift my sleep schedule over to match Federation standard time. When I arrived at the block I was wide awake and ready for the day. Mom had taken time off from her new command role, so we spent lunch reminiscing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ash showed up in time for dinner, and handed me a small, wrapped present. I handed him his, also wrapped, and we agreed to hold off on opening them until morning. I was sure mine was my favorite \u2014 habanero sauce from a little farm on Sol 2. I was equally sure he knew that his was his<\/em> favorite \u2014 hard candies flavored with licorice root and pine bark. It was bitter, sour, sweet, and rich; all at the same time. Mom usually shipped presents to us, to arrive when we returned from our annual vacation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI don\u2019t understand you boys,\u201d she said, as we sat around the table. \u201cYou both have degrees, you could be officers, but you\u2019re both NCOs. Why?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI like the work as an NCO better,\u201d I said. \u201cI see how much time the Major spends with reports, and budgets, and requisitions, and \u2014 no, I\u2019d rather just keep solving crimes.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m with Markus on this one.\u201d Ash slapped my shoulder. He\u2019d grown half a head taller than I, with mom\u2019s complexion, but his hair was beginning to thin at the temples and crown. \u201cBesides, officers have all those functions they\u2019re expected to attend.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I looked at him and raised an eyebrow. \u201cYou\u2019re an E-7, Senior Sergeant now. When your next promotion comes and you\u2019re an E-8 like me you\u2019ll be eating those words.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ash made an exaggerated expression of shock. \u201cYou what?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019ll be expected to go to all those functions too,\u201d I said. \u201cBoring conversation, decent food.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mom got the look.<\/em> The one that said we\u2019d just annoyed her a little too much. \u201cIf it\u2019s that way, no surprise this year. We\u2019re getting up early tomorrow to go to the Capitol building.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIs that meant to be a punishment?\u201d Ash asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe should swing by the museum,\u201d I said. \u201cWe haven\u2019t been in ages.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe\u2019re not going sight-seeing.\u201d She picked up her comm and sent us both a packet. \u201cI didn\u2019t send your presents to meet you at home this year, you\u2019re getting them there, tomorrow.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We looked at our comms. It was promotion orders to Warrant Officers. I was being promoted to W-3, Master Technical Officer, while Ash was being promoted to W-2, Senior Technical Officer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mom smirked. \u201cIt wasn\u2019t easy to get your commanders to stay quiet about it. They both put in requests earlier this year, about a week apart. I thought they were collaborating, but they weren\u2019t.\u201d Her face softened and pride radiated from her smile. \u201cThe Federation likes their Detectives to be Officers, or at least Warrant Officers.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWow, I\u2026 don\u2019t know how to respond to that,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou what?\u201d Ash\u2019s repeat of his earlier exaggeration made mom laugh.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThis way, you\u2019re officers, but you don\u2019t have to deal with the budgets and requisitions.\u201d She leaned back. \u201cThen again, I<\/em> haven\u2019t had to deal with a budget or requisition for years now.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBecause you give it to a Colonel, who gives it to a Major, who passes it on\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAll right, all right, sorry I started it.\u201d Mom shooed us into the main room and turned on the holo. \u201cNo more talking about work tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCome on, mom, we\u2019re just \u2014\u201d Ash started.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She cut him off with a curt \u201cI\u2019m pulling rank.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We watched a football match, then got ready to turn in for the night. The holo was still on low volume when the newscaster broke in with, \u201cThe high court has just announced that the sealed records of the attack on Prime Minister Haidara will be released tomorrow, on the twenty-fifth anniversary of the attempted\u2026\u201d I clicked the holo off and went to bed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My comm woke me up shortly after midnight. Thinking there was trouble with the Major I checked it. Instead it said \u201cALERT: Records for Kara Plesh found.\u201d My mother \u2014 the alert I\u2019d set years ago. Hands trembling I read it, and collapsed, dropping my comm to clatter on the floor.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mom and Ash must\u2019ve heard it, because they both came. Ash picked up my comm and read it out. \u201cKara Plesh, 32, firefighter, Bamako, attempted assassination of Prime Minister Haidara, died when police returned fire\u2026. Oh gods, your mother.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDid you\u2026?\u201d I tried to ask. I felt seven again; small, vulnerable, and afraid.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI didn\u2019t know, baby, I didn\u2019t know.\u201d Mom fell into a heap. \u201cI stayed with the Prime Minister, and the Captain did the paperwork. They never told me who \u2014 they never\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I had a brief flash of anger which was immediately squashed by the overwhelming memories of security, love, acceptance, everything she\u2019d ever done for me. Now it was my turn. I held her close and let her cry into my chest. \u201cI\u2019m here, mom, I\u2019m here.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m so sorry, baby, I didn\u2019t know.\u201d She forced the words out between sobs.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s not your fault.\u201d I began to rock her, and wept with her. We relived the night I first met her, except our roles were reversed. Ash sat on the floor and wrapped his arms around us both, and together we cried, assured each other, and shared our pain \u2014 as a family.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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