guess where we were.
"Yes."
Charis would spend the night in the arms of one of Montgomery's top officers. Two days later, the good General would lead a militia north into Canada to try to take Quebec. He would fail, in no small part to her sending advance warning to the Canadian and British troops stationed there.
"You were wearing a red dress," I said. I looked out past her, to where uniformed officers of the American militia were kibitzing with their patrons. We were in a small mansion belonging to a local businessman. It had a nice big downstairs for entertaining, and six bedrooms upstairs, which according to my memories were also being used for entertaining. Red dress Charis was likely in one of those rooms, without her red dress.
"Don't get jealous," she said. "This stuff happened two centuries ago, when I was still alive."
"I'm a little torn," I replied. "You were aiding the enemy, after all."
She laughed. "Your enemy, not mine."
"Not really mine either. I wouldn't be born for a long time after this. It's kind of crazy to be here now."
I looked around the room again. "Where's Clara?"
It was as if she was just waiting for us to look for her. She stepped out from the midst of the gathering, in a frilly white dress, her hairstyle matching Charis'. She came up to us and took my hand.
I squatted down so we were at eye level. Charis joined me. "Now what?" I asked.
"He'll try to change things, to undo what we've made," she said. "It will be hard for him, because the memories bind us and give us strength. They're more real to us than anything he can conjure up, and true creation is hard to destroy. He doesn't really know how to make, he just fakes it. The cracks are everywhere if you know where to look."
"He found us pretty fast in New York," Charis said.
"He knows New York well. It will be harder for him to find us here."
I didn't completely understand the rules of the game of hide and seek we were playing, at least not on the surface. Clara was an extension of us, so there had to be some base part of ourselves that knew what was going on.
"So we just hang out here until he catches up?"
She nodded. "Yes, daddy. Then we have to run again, and we have to be quick. Leave too soon and he'll be able to follow right behind. There is no leaving too late."
I knew what she meant. I could still hear the cracking of the Tommy gun ringing in my ears. "How do we know if it's the right time?"
"Things will change," she said. "That's the clue. It's the right time when we see him. We have to all be together, not touching but close by. Think of a memory. Any memory to get us away, but detailed is better. It makes us harder to find."
"Okay, let's just concentrate on staying together then," I said. "What happens if he kills us?"
She rolled her eyes at me again. It was super cute, but I hated when she did that. "He didn't know you could do this. Now that he does..."
She didn't need to finish. I got it. He wouldn't let us live long enough to remember again. Maybe he wouldn't let us live at all. I could picture an endless cycle of rebirth and murder, from now until never.
"So the longer we survive the more powerful we get, right?" I asked. "The more powerful we get, the easier it will become to defeat him."
"Yes, and no. Remember the balance, daddy. Always remember the balance."
The answer gave me a chill. I leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. "Thanks, Clara." She was so real sometimes.
I stood back up and looked out at the assembly of soldiers and citizens. There was nothing to do but wait for Ross to show his face. When he did, we would leave.
"Any particular memory you'd like to visit?" I asked Charis. I was trying not to think too much about this one.
She laughed. "How about the time you made out with Tammy Robinson?"
I could feel my face turning red. "I was sixteen," I said.
"It was very cute. Your first chance to get to first base."
She was patronizing me. "I've learned a lot since then."
"You guys,"
"Yes."
Charis would spend the night in the arms of one of Montgomery's top officers. Two days later, the good General would lead a militia north into Canada to try to take Quebec. He would fail, in no small part to her sending advance warning to the Canadian and British troops stationed there.
"You were wearing a red dress," I said. I looked out past her, to where uniformed officers of the American militia were kibitzing with their patrons. We were in a small mansion belonging to a local businessman. It had a nice big downstairs for entertaining, and six bedrooms upstairs, which according to my memories were also being used for entertaining. Red dress Charis was likely in one of those rooms, without her red dress.
"Don't get jealous," she said. "This stuff happened two centuries ago, when I was still alive."
"I'm a little torn," I replied. "You were aiding the enemy, after all."
She laughed. "Your enemy, not mine."
"Not really mine either. I wouldn't be born for a long time after this. It's kind of crazy to be here now."
I looked around the room again. "Where's Clara?"
It was as if she was just waiting for us to look for her. She stepped out from the midst of the gathering, in a frilly white dress, her hairstyle matching Charis'. She came up to us and took my hand.
I squatted down so we were at eye level. Charis joined me. "Now what?" I asked.
"He'll try to change things, to undo what we've made," she said. "It will be hard for him, because the memories bind us and give us strength. They're more real to us than anything he can conjure up, and true creation is hard to destroy. He doesn't really know how to make, he just fakes it. The cracks are everywhere if you know where to look."
"He found us pretty fast in New York," Charis said.
"He knows New York well. It will be harder for him to find us here."
I didn't completely understand the rules of the game of hide and seek we were playing, at least not on the surface. Clara was an extension of us, so there had to be some base part of ourselves that knew what was going on.
"So we just hang out here until he catches up?"
She nodded. "Yes, daddy. Then we have to run again, and we have to be quick. Leave too soon and he'll be able to follow right behind. There is no leaving too late."
I knew what she meant. I could still hear the cracking of the Tommy gun ringing in my ears. "How do we know if it's the right time?"
"Things will change," she said. "That's the clue. It's the right time when we see him. We have to all be together, not touching but close by. Think of a memory. Any memory to get us away, but detailed is better. It makes us harder to find."
"Okay, let's just concentrate on staying together then," I said. "What happens if he kills us?"
She rolled her eyes at me again. It was super cute, but I hated when she did that. "He didn't know you could do this. Now that he does..."
She didn't need to finish. I got it. He wouldn't let us live long enough to remember again. Maybe he wouldn't let us live at all. I could picture an endless cycle of rebirth and murder, from now until never.
"So the longer we survive the more powerful we get, right?" I asked. "The more powerful we get, the easier it will become to defeat him."
"Yes, and no. Remember the balance, daddy. Always remember the balance."
The answer gave me a chill. I leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. "Thanks, Clara." She was so real sometimes.
I stood back up and looked out at the assembly of soldiers and citizens. There was nothing to do but wait for Ross to show his face. When he did, we would leave.
"Any particular memory you'd like to visit?" I asked Charis. I was trying not to think too much about this one.
She laughed. "How about the time you made out with Tammy Robinson?"
I could feel my face turning red. "I was sixteen," I said.
"It was very cute. Your first chance to get to first base."
She was patronizing me. "I've learned a lot since then."
"You guys,"
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