“I Remember”
January 3, 2014
Note: I’ve typically been composição literária notes at the end, but for this case, I must make an exception as to be clear to you, or at least the ones who haven’t read my anterior works. I have been thinking about doing a sequel to one of my stories, but never did because I didn’t think I could make anything long and commendable out of it. But with this project, I received some inspiration and motivation to do so in a short story. So, this short is a little sequel to “Skipper’s Curse.” If you haven’t read it before and plan to, be aware that this will contain spoilers. I hope you enjoy.
— § —
It had been a two months since Dr. Blowhole’s last strike. Marlene had received a terrible blow to the head and couldn’t remember much about it, but from what Skipper had told her, she didn’t miss much. She was injected with a ‘Serum’ invented por Dr. Blowhole that put her in a trance to do whatever he told her. He ordered her to kill Skipper, but apparently, it just wore off before she got the chance. Marlene was grateful for that, but couldn’t help but feel like there was something missing. . . .
In fact, she knew there was something Skipper wasn’t telling her. Something he was holding back, but she couldn’t figure out what it was or why he wouldn’t tell her. She could see it in his eyes. Whenever the subject had come about, he became distant and tried to change the subject. But despite the fact that he’d been untruthful to her since it happened, Marlene felt somewhat of a — connection to Skipper. It seemed crazy, but in some weird way, she felt so much closer to Skipper since she’d woken up for reasons she couldn’t explain.
Secretly, Marlene sought Kowalski’s help to remember without Skipper’s knowledge. Like the good friend he was, Kowalski made the effort to wake two hours before the others, grab a cup of coffee and head over to Marlene’s to try and help her regain her memory two days a week. They’d gotten close — close enough to where Marlene could just see the memory beyond hazy vision, but she could never break the barrier.
It was frustrating, really. Why couldn’t she remember? It seemed almost impossible. Some days she nearly pulled her pele, peles out in her vexation.
Now, Marlene stood in the entrance of her cave, staring out at the sunrise after yet another unsuccessful session with Kowalski.
“I’m sorry we aren’t getting anywhere, Marlene,” Kowalski said as he prepared to leave.
“It’s all right, Kowalski. It’s not your fault. I just don’t understand why I can’t remember,” Marlene replied.
Kowalski sighed and put a comforting flipper on her shoulder. “The mind is a puzzling thing. No one ever really understands much of why the mind does what it does. Maybe it’s just that your mind is subconsciously waiting for the right moment to come to bring those memories back. Or maybe that part of your mind was just damaged beyond repair. It’s not necessarily so that you’ll never remember, but I’m afraid I can’t guarantee that you will. I really am sorry. I wish there was mais I could do for you,” he told her.
“No, Kowalski, you’ve done mais than enough. Thank you, really,” Marlene assured him.
Kowalski smiled sympathetically and patted her shoulder. “I’ll come back Friday morning.”
Marlene shook her head. “Nah, don’t bother. I’m done with this therapy stuff,” she told him.
“Are you sure? I think with a little mais time, we might—”
“No, Kowalski. I can live with not remembering,” she told him. Although, she wasn’t sure if she believed that even herself.
Kowalski sighed and nodded. “If you change your mind, you know where to find me,” he told her. Then he turned and left her.
Marlene continued to watch the sunrise with a heavy coração for the seguinte couple of hours.
For most of the morning, Marlene remained in her habitat. She’d given up on trying to remember and instead thought about ways she could get through living without that memory. It’s hopeless, she thought. It’s just a dumb memory. If it was really important, I’d remember. Right? She sighed and ran a paw over her face. I would give anything to remember what Skipper said to me.
Marlene’s brow furrowed and she sat up. Skipper? How did he . . . She suddenly remembered the flashback she’d been having, the blurred one she could never clear. That was Skipper’s silhouette in front of her. She couldn’t really make it out, but she somehow realized that it was him.
Finally, Marlene got what she’d been wanting for the past two months: an image. She saw Skipper in front of her, holding her por the waist. He said something, but she couldn’t quite make it out and she concentrated harder. His voice barely broke through her memory.
“I amor you, Marlene.”
Now she knew it had to just be her mind playing a cruel trick on her. Surely, what she was seeing wasn’t what happened. That was impossible. Wasn’t it? She’d known Skipper for a long time. She would know if he felt that way about her. Wouldn’t she? Skipper was good at hiding how he felt about a lot of things, but would he be good enough to hide those kinds of feelings?
Marlene looked at the pinguim habitat. There was only one way to find out.
“Skipper?” Marlene called as she climbed down their ladder.
“Right here, Marlene. Is everything okay?” Skipper replied, pouring a cup of coffee.
Marlene looked at the others. “Can I speak to you alone?” she asked.
Skipper’s furrowed his brow. “Sure. Boys, do you mind?” he asked the team. They nodded and made their way for the hatch. Kowalski exchanged a glance with Marlene on his way out.
“What’s on your mind, Marlene? You look kind of upset,” Skipper said with a look of concern.
“Not upset, really. mais . . . confused,” Marlene explained, leaning on the mesa, tabela seguinte to him.
“About what?” Skipper asked.
“I think I finally remembered something,” Marlene replied. Skipper stared blankly for a moment and set his mug on the counter, eyeing the peixe inside it.
“Really. What, um, exactly did you remember?” he asked, not meeting her eye.
“Just part of when I — assaulted you,” Marlene lied, trying to think of a way to coax the answer out of him.
“Well, what’s confusing about it?” Skipper asked, still not meeting her eye.
Marlene studied him. “Skipper, is there something you haven’t told me about that day?” she asked.
Skipper seemed to hesitate. “No, Marlene. I’ve told you everything,” he insisted.
“Are you sure?” Marlene persisted.
Skipper nodded, but still would not look at her. “Yeah. I’m sure.”
Marlene took a slow, deep breath. “Skipper, do you amor me?” she asked finally.
Skipper raised his eyes from his mug to the mural across the room. For the seguinte couple of minutes, neither of them said anything.
“What makes you say that?” Skipper replied at last.
“Just answer the question, Skipper,” Marlene insisted.
Skipper continued to stare at the wall. “Yes,” he answered in a weak voice.
Marlene blinked. What she saw was true? “All this time, why didn’t you ever tell me?” she asked.
“I was trying to protect you,” Skipper answered, finally turning his head to meet her eye.
“From what?”
“Marlene, you saw what Dr. Blowhole did to you just for being my friend. If he ever found out that I’m hopelessly in amor with you, who knows what the psycho will do? I wasn’t going to put you at that kind of risk,” Skipper explained.
Marlene stared in disbelief. “Hopelessly?” she repeated. Skipper tightened his beak shut. “Isn’t amor all about taking risks, though?”
Skipper sighed. “It’s not just about the risks, Marlene. You deserve better than me. Someone who doesn’t have to run off on missions. Someone who can always be there for you. I can’t guarantee that I’m going to be here every time you need me,” he told her.
“Skipper, that doesn’t mean we can’t try to make it work,” Marlene replied. She stepped closer. “Because when you amor someone, you at least make an effort, right?”
Skipper looked to the floor beside them. “Why would you want to make an effort with me?” he asked slowly.
“Because I amor you too, Skipper,” Marlene replied. She wasn’t sure how she didn’t realize it before, but she couldn’t deny that she felt the same way.
Skipper gradually rose his gaze to meet her eye again.
“And I think I’d like to know mais about how I really snapped out of my trance,” Marlene continued.
Skipper smiled slightly. “How ‘bout I tell you this Friday at eight o’clock over dinner?” he suggested.
Marlene returned the smile. “It’s a date.”
Image por link
January 3, 2014
Note: I’ve typically been composição literária notes at the end, but for this case, I must make an exception as to be clear to you, or at least the ones who haven’t read my anterior works. I have been thinking about doing a sequel to one of my stories, but never did because I didn’t think I could make anything long and commendable out of it. But with this project, I received some inspiration and motivation to do so in a short story. So, this short is a little sequel to “Skipper’s Curse.” If you haven’t read it before and plan to, be aware that this will contain spoilers. I hope you enjoy.
— § —
It had been a two months since Dr. Blowhole’s last strike. Marlene had received a terrible blow to the head and couldn’t remember much about it, but from what Skipper had told her, she didn’t miss much. She was injected with a ‘Serum’ invented por Dr. Blowhole that put her in a trance to do whatever he told her. He ordered her to kill Skipper, but apparently, it just wore off before she got the chance. Marlene was grateful for that, but couldn’t help but feel like there was something missing. . . .
In fact, she knew there was something Skipper wasn’t telling her. Something he was holding back, but she couldn’t figure out what it was or why he wouldn’t tell her. She could see it in his eyes. Whenever the subject had come about, he became distant and tried to change the subject. But despite the fact that he’d been untruthful to her since it happened, Marlene felt somewhat of a — connection to Skipper. It seemed crazy, but in some weird way, she felt so much closer to Skipper since she’d woken up for reasons she couldn’t explain.
Secretly, Marlene sought Kowalski’s help to remember without Skipper’s knowledge. Like the good friend he was, Kowalski made the effort to wake two hours before the others, grab a cup of coffee and head over to Marlene’s to try and help her regain her memory two days a week. They’d gotten close — close enough to where Marlene could just see the memory beyond hazy vision, but she could never break the barrier.
It was frustrating, really. Why couldn’t she remember? It seemed almost impossible. Some days she nearly pulled her pele, peles out in her vexation.
Now, Marlene stood in the entrance of her cave, staring out at the sunrise after yet another unsuccessful session with Kowalski.
“I’m sorry we aren’t getting anywhere, Marlene,” Kowalski said as he prepared to leave.
“It’s all right, Kowalski. It’s not your fault. I just don’t understand why I can’t remember,” Marlene replied.
Kowalski sighed and put a comforting flipper on her shoulder. “The mind is a puzzling thing. No one ever really understands much of why the mind does what it does. Maybe it’s just that your mind is subconsciously waiting for the right moment to come to bring those memories back. Or maybe that part of your mind was just damaged beyond repair. It’s not necessarily so that you’ll never remember, but I’m afraid I can’t guarantee that you will. I really am sorry. I wish there was mais I could do for you,” he told her.
“No, Kowalski, you’ve done mais than enough. Thank you, really,” Marlene assured him.
Kowalski smiled sympathetically and patted her shoulder. “I’ll come back Friday morning.”
Marlene shook her head. “Nah, don’t bother. I’m done with this therapy stuff,” she told him.
“Are you sure? I think with a little mais time, we might—”
“No, Kowalski. I can live with not remembering,” she told him. Although, she wasn’t sure if she believed that even herself.
Kowalski sighed and nodded. “If you change your mind, you know where to find me,” he told her. Then he turned and left her.
Marlene continued to watch the sunrise with a heavy coração for the seguinte couple of hours.
For most of the morning, Marlene remained in her habitat. She’d given up on trying to remember and instead thought about ways she could get through living without that memory. It’s hopeless, she thought. It’s just a dumb memory. If it was really important, I’d remember. Right? She sighed and ran a paw over her face. I would give anything to remember what Skipper said to me.
Marlene’s brow furrowed and she sat up. Skipper? How did he . . . She suddenly remembered the flashback she’d been having, the blurred one she could never clear. That was Skipper’s silhouette in front of her. She couldn’t really make it out, but she somehow realized that it was him.
Finally, Marlene got what she’d been wanting for the past two months: an image. She saw Skipper in front of her, holding her por the waist. He said something, but she couldn’t quite make it out and she concentrated harder. His voice barely broke through her memory.
“I amor you, Marlene.”
Now she knew it had to just be her mind playing a cruel trick on her. Surely, what she was seeing wasn’t what happened. That was impossible. Wasn’t it? She’d known Skipper for a long time. She would know if he felt that way about her. Wouldn’t she? Skipper was good at hiding how he felt about a lot of things, but would he be good enough to hide those kinds of feelings?
Marlene looked at the pinguim habitat. There was only one way to find out.
“Skipper?” Marlene called as she climbed down their ladder.
“Right here, Marlene. Is everything okay?” Skipper replied, pouring a cup of coffee.
Marlene looked at the others. “Can I speak to you alone?” she asked.
Skipper’s furrowed his brow. “Sure. Boys, do you mind?” he asked the team. They nodded and made their way for the hatch. Kowalski exchanged a glance with Marlene on his way out.
“What’s on your mind, Marlene? You look kind of upset,” Skipper said with a look of concern.
“Not upset, really. mais . . . confused,” Marlene explained, leaning on the mesa, tabela seguinte to him.
“About what?” Skipper asked.
“I think I finally remembered something,” Marlene replied. Skipper stared blankly for a moment and set his mug on the counter, eyeing the peixe inside it.
“Really. What, um, exactly did you remember?” he asked, not meeting her eye.
“Just part of when I — assaulted you,” Marlene lied, trying to think of a way to coax the answer out of him.
“Well, what’s confusing about it?” Skipper asked, still not meeting her eye.
Marlene studied him. “Skipper, is there something you haven’t told me about that day?” she asked.
Skipper seemed to hesitate. “No, Marlene. I’ve told you everything,” he insisted.
“Are you sure?” Marlene persisted.
Skipper nodded, but still would not look at her. “Yeah. I’m sure.”
Marlene took a slow, deep breath. “Skipper, do you amor me?” she asked finally.
Skipper raised his eyes from his mug to the mural across the room. For the seguinte couple of minutes, neither of them said anything.
“What makes you say that?” Skipper replied at last.
“Just answer the question, Skipper,” Marlene insisted.
Skipper continued to stare at the wall. “Yes,” he answered in a weak voice.
Marlene blinked. What she saw was true? “All this time, why didn’t you ever tell me?” she asked.
“I was trying to protect you,” Skipper answered, finally turning his head to meet her eye.
“From what?”
“Marlene, you saw what Dr. Blowhole did to you just for being my friend. If he ever found out that I’m hopelessly in amor with you, who knows what the psycho will do? I wasn’t going to put you at that kind of risk,” Skipper explained.
Marlene stared in disbelief. “Hopelessly?” she repeated. Skipper tightened his beak shut. “Isn’t amor all about taking risks, though?”
Skipper sighed. “It’s not just about the risks, Marlene. You deserve better than me. Someone who doesn’t have to run off on missions. Someone who can always be there for you. I can’t guarantee that I’m going to be here every time you need me,” he told her.
“Skipper, that doesn’t mean we can’t try to make it work,” Marlene replied. She stepped closer. “Because when you amor someone, you at least make an effort, right?”
Skipper looked to the floor beside them. “Why would you want to make an effort with me?” he asked slowly.
“Because I amor you too, Skipper,” Marlene replied. She wasn’t sure how she didn’t realize it before, but she couldn’t deny that she felt the same way.
Skipper gradually rose his gaze to meet her eye again.
“And I think I’d like to know mais about how I really snapped out of my trance,” Marlene continued.
Skipper smiled slightly. “How ‘bout I tell you this Friday at eight o’clock over dinner?” he suggested.
Marlene returned the smile. “It’s a date.”
Image por link