The most surreal thing about surviving such an affair with memories intact was the realization that everyone else’s minds, with the aid of the Sinstitute’s co-opted memory magic tech, simply filled in the gaps. “It almost feels like nothing happened all week,” one mother laughed to another. “I remember taking the kids to school and that’s literally it. The most boring week I think I’ve ever had.” Her friend laughed and agreed, vowing that they would try to make the next week more interesting.
Cecilia and Matthew continued to live at the Blackmore Estate as Gerald operated as CEO. In a surprisingly wise move, the boy’s first decision with his newly inherited fortune was to go to community college early and start work towards a business degree in hopes of helping the company climb even higher. Blackmore Enterprises went strait-laced in the meantime, no longer dealing in illegal weapons to foreign oligarchs and focusing more on providing quality internet solutions to a growing area, their original “front.”
Cecilia’s first move upon returning was to ask her brother what he remembered of the week. “It was such a shame,” he’d said, “truly. To think father perished in a freak roof fall from putting Christmas decorations up--how the mighty have fallen.” He snickered at his own pun, clearly pleased about his sudden climb in the company. Cecilia and Matthew decided not to tell him about what actually happened to William or about his seized Fem-Fatal, letting him keep his buzz and his sanity. Matthew, Gerald knew, was his father’s gay punk-rock-loving illegitimate son, who he was now allowing to stay at the estate from the goodness of his heart.
Detective Lashbrook’s gamble paid off, and the citizenry remembered him as the beloved area police chief of thirty years (he got Kevin to help him clean up the department website). Everyone also fondly remembered his two children, Matt and Kevin. “I still remember the day you were born,” Mrs. Nutterly crooned, pinching Matt’s cheeks before handing him the box of donuts Lashbrook had ordered. “You’ve grown up so fast--such a strapping young man! Why, you’ll be turning eighteen soon, won’t you? Goodness, you make a woman feel so old! Give your regards to the family for me!”
Chief Lashbrook naturally made good money, having totally headed up the department for several decades, so he decided to purchase a house. He returned to 919 Waterfront Lane and offered the nice young couple far more than it was worth, who were ecstatic to be able to move to a larger place with their child. His first move was to replace all the gas fireplaces and appliances--just in case--and then settle in with his new family.
Matt got a job at the local Movie Gallery. Everyone was amazed how quickly he picked the basics up, and even more impressed by how fast he was able to rewind stacks of VHSes after Omni’s rewind-reversal spell wore off. “Guess I was born with it,” he’d replied with a wink. Every night after closing he’d pick Kevin up and head over to the Blackmore Estate. Kevin and Cecilia would study together (and study each other), and Matthew tried desperately to teach Matt how to play DDR properly so he would stop embarrassing him at the mall.
A few days after it had all gone down, Lashbrook walked out to the edge of the boardwalk to grab a smoke and ponder life. It was chilly, and the old man’s breath produced as much smoke as his cigarette. Matt saw him standing by his lonesome and joined him, leaning on the old wooden railing next to him.
“Cigarette?” Lashbrook offered him.
“Nah,” Matt politely replied, “thanks though. I’ve got an image to uphold as the Police Chief’s son.” Lashbrook laughed, patting him on the back.
“You’ve grown up a lot these past couple weeks,” Lashbrook replied. “You’re the smartest two-week-old I’ve ever met. I’m proud of you.”
Matt chuckled, pulling his jacket closer around his neck. They stood side by side, gazing out across the vast ocean. The lights from distant boats danced hypnotically across the frosty waves. Kevin was looking for Lashbrook and ran over as soon as he saw him. “I got you something,” he said, reaching into his pocket and producing a small, folded piece of paper, handing it to him.
“What’s this?”
“I stopped by the station after school today. I talked to the suspect sketch artist guy, I forgot his name, but I told him every detail of your family from your memories you’d told me and had him sketch up a portrait for you. I told him it was for a story I was writing for English class.” Lashbrook unfolded it and froze, eyes lingering on the smiling image of his imaginary wife and daughter. He had a whole lifetime of memories with them still, every last experience as real as the chilly nip of the cool ocean air this evening and as fake as the date a woman told him they’d gone on in 1972 together. “I just… I don’t know. I… I’m really thankful about you taking me and Matt in, and treating us like we actually belong somewhere, so I thought… I thought you’d want to see your family again, one last time.”
Lashbrook took a deep breath, eyes skimming the details in their faces before exhaling and folding it back. “The fact you’d do that for me means more than you’ll ever know,” he replied, his eyes welling up, “but you were wrong. That family was never real.” He tossed the sketch into the sea, smiling warmly and turning to face the boy. “Even if they had been, there’s only one family I care about now,my real, true, chosen family...” he grabbed Kevin and Matt by the shoulders, then pulled them into a powerful embrace, “...and you’re it.”
“Dang it, you’re making me ruin my mascara,” Matt sniffled. “I love you, ya’ old pig.” Kevin was unable to speak from sobbing too hard--the happiest tears of his life.
“Gerald invited us to the Estate to have Thanksgiving dinner with him, Matthew, and Cecilia,” Lashbrook added, wiping the cold tears from his own face with the back of his wool glove. “I know he’s kind of a shitty kid, but I told him we would. I figured you kids would want to. Just remember--no gacha talk with him. Ignorance is bliss, and Cecilia would rather spare him that trauma for as long as possible.”
“Of course,” Kevin replied, sniffling blissfully.
“It’s kind of wild,” Matt said, looking thoughtfully at the moon’s reflection in the waves. “All of that went down, and we’re the only ones who can know about it. It’s kinda’ lonely and depressing, ain’t it?”
“It’s a burden we bear together,” Lashbrook replied. “I’m sorry for how it ended for so many, but I’m thankful it happened so I could be here now--and so I could have a family like you two. Speaking of families, it’s time to start thinking about Christmas--”
“Can I get a Nintendo 64!?” Kevin asked.
“Uhh…” Matt looked uncomfortably at Lashbrook, who had sent him to KB Toys earlier to grab him a Playstation. “Well…”
“We’ll, uh, we’ll talk to Santa,” Lashbrook replied, shifty eyed. He knew Kevin was too old to believe, but at this point, Lashbrook could just about believe himself after all they’d been through. “Let’s get home, it’s getting cold. We’ll order a pizza or something and watch the new Simpsons.”
With that, the family walked back into their warm yellow house.
~~~
END