MNEMOSYNE, Chapter 1
Table of Contents
MNEMOSYNE
Chapter 1
Fit for Life is the goal, the new addition will flourish, today is a victory. Fit for Life is the goal, the new addition will flourish, today is a victory. Fit for Life is the goal. The new addition will flourish. Today is—
A light flashes bright enough to penetrate my closed eyelids, and my hand instinctively forms a visor over my forehead. I open my eyes to look out the car window and see the railing of the conservation bridge speeding past me, then I look farther, toward the usually lonely creek and green grass below. What is that white tower, wide and crystalline, in the middle of the nature preserve, reflecting sunlight directly at me?
The car keeps cruising on autopilot and the building is quickly speeding away, shrinking in the distance until it looks like a tiny piece of quartz. Now it’s gone, vanished behind the downward slope of the bridge, leaving me with nothing but a vague impression of the thing. Where did it come from? When? Why would it appear like that, today, of all days?
Ever since I hired Tiffany, I’ve been trying to follow her advice to meditate, using my morning drive for my attempts. I’ve been instructing the car to take this path over the conservation bridge to avoid traffic and ensure a smooth, quiet ride for my meditation. Maybe that’s it, the meditation. I could have missed that building before simply because I’ve always passed it by with my eyes closed. But I’ve driven over that bridge without meditating, I would have seen it before today. It really is like that tower appeared out of nowhere. As if it interrupted my meditation on purpose.
That’s preposterous. I’m the only one interrupting my meditation. I need to get back into my mantra—but it’s too late, my car is pulling up to the Fit for Life Facility. I have to focus on work, not on meditation. And certainly not on some anomalous tower.
I get out of the car near the Achievement center and look at the grounds of the facility below. I think of the new building, not that one by the bridge, but the one we’re opening today, the Yoga Center. I think of my months of work leading up to today. I think of how much I need to be prepared, how much I need to prepare everything and everyone else, and I feel myself refocusing.
I know what to do. I’ll walk through the grounds of Fit for Life, contemplating what I’ve built and what we’re building and what today is for. That will make up for the break in my meditation. That will get me prepared.
I walk down the hill from the Achievement center and it’s working immediately. I love these buildings, love just being near them, love each one’s design and purpose. I love how each one is clean and white… like that...
No, my buildings are nothing like that thing by the bridge. Besides their large windows, these buildings are neatly beveled and soft, like man-made clouds, stucco clouds designed for human inhabitants and brought down to rest among grassy hills. They’re reassuring, not alarming or disarming, because I designed them that way. They’re like a counter to that thing by the bridge, because I know what they are and what they’re for and what good they do for me and for others.
I walk down the winding path around the Welcome Center, where everything begins, to the Fitness Center, where everything is achieved. I stop to admire its large, bulbous design and its role as the centerpiece of our efforts. Even this early in the morning, I can see people working on their fitness goals. I take a deep breath and focus on joining them in the spirit of claiming the day.
Finally relaxed, I turn to my right and see the Communications Center resting atop the last grassy hill of the Facility. I look farther, past the hill and downward, and I see the real significance of today, the latest addition to the family, the teal-tinged Yoga Center. Some cleaning and some celebratory decorating are all that’s left, then the opening celebration will begin, then—
I hear a loud, guttural honk, then notice the rare sound of a diesel engine. I’d forgotten about the delivery. I turn and walk back toward the parking lot in front of the Welcome Center. A large flatbed truck is waiting, its bed full of adolescent trees, a generous gift from the local government for “contributions to city wellness.”
“Are you Mr. Vance?” the driver asks as I approach, and it seems like he’s smirking at me.
“Yes,” I say. “But you need the facility manager. He’ll be down there by the teal—”
“I’ve never seen this many of these things,” he says, one eyebrow raised ironically, and now I’m sure he’s smirking. He tilts his head back towards the trees and asks, “You order em?”
“Technically, no,” I say, effacing a humble smile. “The local government donated them.”
“Figured. They’re a government kinda tree. Impractical, lots of maintenance. They’re a special breed of bonsai. Big bonsai. A bigger pain than the little ones, too.” His smirk turns exaggerated, as does my smile in return. “You sure you want em? Maybe I take em back?”
“Like I said, they weren’t my choice,” I say, checking my impatience as I tell him that I’ll get the facility manager.
I head towards the Welcome Center—but couldn’t I just call or message Jasper? I could even go directly to the Yoga Center, that’s probably where he is, conferring with Tiffany about our plans for today. So why go to the Welcome Center? Am I procrastinating? Is it because of the delivery driver, did he throw me off that much? Sure, I don’t feel like rushing to help him, not with that smirk and that tone of his. But…
Maybe it’s those trees, there’s something about those trees...
No, that’s not it. I’d intended to go to the Welcome Center. To check on my customer service people. As the face of our facility, they need to be extra focused today. I’ll check on them, then check on Jasper’s location. These are all just steps toward making today a victory.
I walk through the wide double-doors of the Welcome Center. A beautiful young woman in a sleek compression shirt sits behind the reception desk, while a young man rests his elbows on the desk, leaning towards her. They don’t seem entirely focused, and I need them focused. I should get their attention subtly, then use this as a teaching lesson, I’m trying to remember their names… but I can’t help staring at the Fit for Life logo on the back of the young man’s shirt. Something about it seems off. Not that it’s different from any other instance of our logo, it’s simply a rainbow of colors piercing through the lettering as always, like light through a piece of—
“Alex!” my two employees shout, almost in unison.
They’ve both turned towards me and stiffened, like military privates caught slipping. I feel stiff myself, but I’m simply trying to focus, while they seem unusually nervous. Probably because I’ve just seen them flirting. I try to put them at ease with a wink and a smile and a slightly sarcastic “good morning” before I get down to business.
“There’s a truck full of trees in need of planting,” I say, gesturing with my thumb toward the parking lot behind me. “Where might my facility manager be?”
“I think he just came through, didn’t he?” she asks of the young man.
Despite it being my usual practice, I can’t remember their names. Maybe I never knew their names, maybe Regina hired these two and I’ve only seen them in passing. I need to talk to her about keeping me in the loop. Ever since—
“Yeah, he did,” the young man says to the girl. “He said he had to fulfill his duties as a midwife,” they both start laughing. “As Tiffany’s midwife.”
They stop laughing and look at me, again with that startled look, and the girl asks if I want her to message him. They really are nervous. Maybe it's because I haven't called them by name?
“Don’t worry about it, I’ll go get him,” I say, smiling, then adding softly, as if I’m imparting a secret, “I didn’t mean to startle you two, but let’s stay focused today, alright? Now, time for me to startle Jasper—and mean it!”
They laugh, but, as I walk away, it nags at me that they might not mean it, then the fact that that nags at me starts to nag at me and—this opening is getting to me, isn’t it? Or maybe it’s those trees… There’s all sorts of unresolved stress. And unresolved planting. I need to find Jasper. And Tiffany. It’s her big day, this is the opening of her Center—but she won’t be stressed, she’s never stressed, she’s the incarnation of calm. Jasper will handle the trees, Tiffany will handle the calm. I’ll find the two of them and things will start to smooth out.
I look up at the Yoga Center and take it in like I did with the other buildings. There’s something soothing about it, more than the fact that it's finally finished. It's typically round and white, like the rest of the Facility, but tinged with a hint of teal, as if a soft, green light colors it from afar. A large garden stands at its center, the meditation garden, an open-air space filled with grass and trees and large meditation rocks. In the center of the garden stands Jasper, his enthusiasm and energy already apparent from my position outside.
He’s smiling, laughing a bit, talking with Tiffany. Acting as her midwife, as he said, I’m sure. I haven’t seen her in a few days, and the sight of her, of the two of them, is reassuring. Jasper in his cargo pants and a slightly dirty T-shirt, Tiffany already dressed for the opening celebration, her blonde hair pinned up neatly, her white and blue dress flowing smoothly from the collar around her neck to the top of her sandals.
For a moment, I’m reminded of a Japanese painting of a wave, a fitting and relaxing image—until it reminds me of the trees. The tedious, Japanese trees. I look back to Jasper, his slim, sinewy frame ready for anything, whether it’s enjoying himself or working himself to death, and I’m reminded that, right now, we need to get to work.
As I enter the meditation garden, I shout, “Jasper!” and startle the two of them, even startle myself, I hadn’t meant to shout like that. Fortunately, Jasper smiles at me as if he enjoyed the surprise.
“Well, good morning to you too, Alex,” he says, meeting me halfway, his hand extended. “I’m assuming you have a pressing duty for me. Perhaps something involving unnecessary foliage?”
“There’s a truck full of free government trees, Jasper,” I say, noticing the unusual sternness in my tone. I don’t intend it, but it’s like I can’t stop it. “We need to do something about the trees. We can’t have anything getting in the way of the opening. No distractions.”
“We’ve got it all under control, boss,” Jasper says, gripping my shoulder playfully. “That’s some serious tension, sir. I can feel the stress through my hand. Maybe we could all meditate real quick? Tiffany, what do you think?” I start to say something, but Jasper steps back, his palms extended towards me, and continues: “Okay, okay. The trees. I’ll get right on it, boss. But don’t you think I’m entitled to a bit of levity? Seeing as how I’m the only one here willing and able to tend to those so-called gifts, I think I should get a little leeway.”
“Of course,” I say. I’m trying to smile, trying to join in on the lighthearted banter, but I feel inexplicably irritated. “All I’m wondering, Jasper, is where can we possibly hide the trees for tonight? I mean, obviously, you can’t just bury the damn things right here in front of the Center, not today, not in time for the—”
“Plant, Alex.”
“What?”
“You said bury, Alex,” he says, his smile huge. “Bury the damn things.”
“Bury, plant, okay, whatever,” I feel myself smiling, too, but I also feel myself fighting it. “Okay, have your laugh.”
“Alex, everything is fine,” Tiffany says, part of her hand momentarily covering the bottom of her mouth. As her hand comes down, I can’t help but relax at the sight of her smile. “In fact, Jasper was just telling me about his plans for the trees. It’s a lot of work and he wants to put it off until after the celebration. He’s cleared some space for them in the shade, away from the festivities.”
“Precisely,” Jasper says, affecting the air of a stiff butler. “Now, Mr. Vance, sir, I must attend to that very matter. The concealment of his majesty’s royal yoga plants is my utmost duty.”
As Jasper walks away, I’m not amused as usual—but why? Jasper is always endearing to me, often hilarious, and he’s my best employee. Nothing’s wrong, at least not with him. He’s simply trying to have fun and enjoy the big day. He’s even trying to enjoy those—
It’s those trees. That’s what’s getting to me. What is it about those trees?
“So do we call you ‘sir’ from now on?” Tiffany asks. “Or should we go with Mr. Vance?”
“Alex,” I respond with a sigh. “Please call me Alex, as always.”
“You aren’t the chill boss as always, Alex.”
“You’re right,” I say. “I think it’s something about those trees. It’s like they’re more of a distraction to me than they need to be. I feel like they remind me of something."
Tiffany looks off, trying to remember something herself. Then her big green eyes light up.
“Maybe I’m wrong, but... Do you know that nature preserve with that small bridge? It’s just down the road from here.”
“I think so,” I say.
“Doesn’t it have the same trees? I’ve only driven by it a couple times, but the trees there really stood out,” she pauses, her head slightly turned down and to the left, trying to remember.
I follow her lead, trying to remember something myself. She said the trees stood out, but I don’t remember seeing any trees by the bridge, although I did over it this morning as usual. There was something standing out, though, wasn’t there? Something that stood out enough to break me from my meditation. I try to visualize that moment. I see the nature preserve speeding by, I see that, yes, there were the same trees, I see a spot of light above the trees, I see a white blur—but it wasn’t blurry when I saw it, actually saw it, on my way to work. It wasn’t blurry at all, it’s my memory that’s blurry...
I can almost identify the white blur, it’s like the name of an old acquaintance on the tip of my tongue. No, not like the name of an old acquaintance, more like the tip of my tongue. It was the tip of something. Something tall and angular, something that caused a blinding light to break my meditation. It was the sun bouncing off of the tip of a—
“Alex, what is it?”
It was a tower by that bridge, wasn’t? A wide, crystalline tower standing in the nature preserve, reflecting sunlight directly at me—that’s what had stood out—not the trees.
“You said the trees stood out?” I ask. “But what about that tower?”
“Oh yeah!” she says, pleased by the reminder. “That’s right, I don’t know how I forgot about that thing.”
She forgot about the building. I forgot about the building. But how could either of us have possibly forgotten a building like that? I ask her if she’s certain, if she means that crystalline thing I saw this morning.
“I think that’s it,” she says, completely uncertain but trying to help. “I mean… I’ve seen some sort of building there, at some point, I think.”
I have this urge to grill her on it, to really make sure she remembers, because we both need to remember. I need to remember. But a loud beeping startles me. I snap my head around and see the truck and the trees in the distance.
“The trees again,” she says, with a mixture of laughter and concern. “They don’t want to leave you alone, do they? How about you help me put up some decorations? Get your mind off of the mystery of the trees.”
I nod, and Tiffany finds a box of decorations. She pulls out a bunched up banner with colorful lettering, begins to stretch it out… into a wide, white rectangle. The tower. Again.
That’s the real mystery, isn’t it? Even the mystery of the trees and why they’ve bothered me so much this morning comes down to their initial presence around that tower. It wasn’t even the trees bothering me, not really. It was the trees reminding me of that tower while the back of my mind fought not to remember, that’s what was bothering me.
But I don’t have time to sort that out, not now, not while Tiffany needs my help with this banner. No, I don’t have time for the tower right now, I need to get a ladder. There. Now get up there, put this thing up. Don’t mind that color and shape, it’s fine, whatever it happens to remind me of, it’s fine.
Welcome to the Yoga Center, it says. See? Looks great. And Tiffany loves it. Now, on to the next thing, before I think of that building again. I’ll have plenty of time to think about it later, after the opening. What does Tiffany need next?
But what about during the opening? I could think about it then. I could even ask other people about it then. There’s going to be a lot of people, so surely someone will remember it more than Tiffany does. More than I do.
I’ll just wait until the opening. Besides, by then, I might not even remember the thing anymore. I already forgot about it once. But… do I really want that?
I walk outside to get something from Tiffany’s car, and I see the bonsai trees up the hill. I almost curse them, yet again—but I realize now how they could help me focus on preparing the Yoga Center. If Jasper hides the trees well, I’ll probably forget the tower. If he doesn’t, I’ll see the trees and they’ll remind me of the tower. That way, I can leave it up to the trees and get my mind on what matters.
Although…
Part of me hopes Jasper doesn’t hide them well, doesn’t it?
