Ex Librus: Empty-Headed

Logan Arsenal stared out the window watching the clouds pass by. A leaf blew off a nearby tree and her hazel eyes followed it as it danced across the classroom windows. “Logan!” The teacher’s shout startled her out of her reverie. Before he could repeat the question, Logan answered. “The square of the hypotenuse is equal to the sum of the squares of the sides of a right triangle.” “That’s correct,” he turned back to the chalkboard and wrote out the formula while Logan went back to staring out the window for the rest of the class period.

At the end of class, Logan stuffed her notebook into her tote bag and followed the rest of the students out of the classroom. Nikolai Bellicose, who had been a friend since the beginning of the school year, was waiting for her. “I don’t suppose you can give me all the answers to the eighth period history test. I mean, seeing that you can see the future and all.” Logan shrugged. “It’s only going to be a quiz and you don’t need my help to pass it. And I can’t exactly see the future. I get this bad case of déjà vu, like I’ve done it all before, like...”

“Like that movie where this guy wakes up and it’s the same day?”

“No, Nikki. It’s like I’m remembering things that haven’t happened yet. But I can’t remember that far ahead.” Nikolai passed his quiz without Logan’s help just as she said he would. After class they walked to the buses and said their goodbyes.

Logan sat in the front seat of the bus away from all the troublemakers. Logan always left the bus before the turnaround. Her grandparent’s house embarrassed her. Wearing used clothes embarrassed her. But the woods she walked through to go home didn’t care about her clothes or the house that she lived in. She felt at home among the trees and bushes that sheltered the wildlife that flourished hidden from the prying eyes of others. It was the one place where she felt safe and free to be herself.

She has spent every summer since losing her parents running through the woods. She climbed every tree that she could shimmy up. She spent time splashing through the small stream that ran through it to the nearby creek. She hunted for frogs and pollywogs in a nearby swamp. She chased butterflies and dragonflies with equal zeal.

But the most she could garner during the school year was a safe path home, well clear of the neighborhood bullies who teased her. She would make bows and arrows from fallen branches and broken vines and take aim at the scoundrels who tormented her at school. It released the anger, but failed to relieve the pain.

Nikolai Bellicose was doing his best to atone for his sins. When he first met Logan, he had tried to trip her in the cafeteria. It didn’t work. He tried several times to catch her off guard, but she always seemed to know his plans. Gradually, his new friends told him stories about the girl who knew things. And eventually, he decided that he wanted to learn everything that she knew. But every so often, he would try to trip her. Every day, he waited until Logan was safely on her bus before walking slowly to the back of the line and crawling into the back seat of the waiting limousine. “One of these days,” he told himself, “I will follow her home.”

Logan rarely came out of the woods except to pick up the mail or to go to school. And no one came to visit her grandparent’s home to check on her. It was just as well. When she was at school, there was no one home. She kept a garden in the clearing behind the old house. Every Easter she collected the peeps from the elementary school and took them home to raise. Her grandmother had taught her to sew and cook. And every year someone left a box of old clothes by the mailbox.

Logan Arsenal stood at the checkout station running items through the scanner. She smiled wanly at the customer who seemed agitated that it was taking so long. He looked familiar to her, but she couldn’t place the face. Suddenly, she stopped scanning and held up the item she had grabbed. A thousand words for the same piece of fruit flashed through her mind as she examined its weight. She scanned the tag attached to the fruit and bagged it before resuming her task. As the last item fell into the bag, the scenery changed.

Logan was back home. Nikki sat at the crude wooden table cradling a coffee mug in his hands. “I don’t want you to be alone for Christmas. Please, come stay with me.”

“I can’t. I have to take care of the house.” Logan brought two plates of freshly wilted dandelion greens to the table. A heavy dressing of bacon fat, sugar, and cider vinegar coated the greens with crumbled bits on bacon scattered on top. Nikki stared at the food on the plate. A thick slice of homemade bread slathered in butter accompanied the greens. On the back of the stove was a large stewpot filled with simmering broth. Earlier, she had dropped some homemade noodles into the broth.

When they finished the greens, Logan dropped the plates and forks into the cast iron sink. She picked up the two bowls resting on the drainboard and filled them with the noodles from the broth. Bits of chicken floated among the noodles along with some diced carrots and onions. Nikki wondered if Logan had ever tasted steak or shrimp or lobster, all foods that he took for granted.

Nikki and Logan watched as the sudden squall turned into a full-blown blizzard obscuring the road in front of them. They were late and the weather wasn’t helping them any. Suddenly, a large semi hauler loomed in front of them, brushing them over the embankment. It was a long fall before they woke up again.

Prep school graduation required suits and ties for the men and long white gowns for the ladies. Public schools were renting gowns at the time, but not their alma mater. Logan joked about the “wedding dress” she had on. Nikki smiled. “Keep it,” he replied. “You’ll need it in four or five years.” She blushed. She couldn’t imagine herself being married. She lost touch with Nikolai after graduation. College was out of the question for her. She was having trouble sleeping, remembering things, and being social.

Nikolai hadn’t seen Logan for nine years since graduation. He had stopped to buy a few things on his way home from work. She looked exhausted. He offered to take her out to dinner when she got off work. She didn’t seem to recognize him. He waited in his car for close to an hour before going back inside the store. Logan wasn’t there. The store manager told him that Logan didn’t work there and had never worked there.

Logan was busy digging up the onions in her garden when the sound of a motorcycle cutting through the brush attracted her attention. “Ain’t got no money, if that’s what you are after.”

The rider took off his helmet and shook out his long hair. “I’m looking for Logan Arsenal. Her book is overdue at the library.”

“Ain’t got no books here. Just my garden and some old rags.” Logan placed her trowel in the basket with the onions. She stood up and dusted off her knees. She picked up her basket and walked toward the house.

“Nikolai is in trouble. The library wants you to save him.”

“Who is Nikolai?” she stepped up onto her back porch. “And what am I supposed to save him from?”

Before the stranger could answer, the surrounding scenery glitched and a younger version of Logan stood upon the porch wearing a worn-out pair of jeans and a hand me down shirt tied at the waist. She jumped down to the dirt patch and approached the motorcycle with wide eyes. “How fast can it go? Can I have a ride?”

“Sure,” he replied. “Hop on behind me and hold on tight.” He strapped on his helmet and revved the engine, raising some dust, as he rushed down the path to the highway. Seconds before hitting the pavement, a sudden shift in the scenery occurred. Logan found herself sitting in the back seat of a helicopter. The man up front landed on the top of a skyscraper. “They are waiting for us inside,” he said as he helped her out of the back of the helicopter.

“I’ve never been in one of those before. What’s it called?” she asked.

He ignored her question. “Hurry,” he chided. “We are running out of time.”

The bright morning sunlight coming through the window nearly blinded Logan as she opened her eyes. She rolled over in bed away from the window and stretched her arms and legs. A moment later the door opened and Nikolai brought in a tray of food. “How are you feeling?”

“Hungry. What’s for breakfast?”

“Your favorite,” he said as he sat the tray on the rolling table.

She sat up and reached for the table, pulling it toward her. “Not so fast,” he scolded. “First, you have to tell me what your favorite breakfast is.”

Logan frowned. “Seriously?” she asked. Nikolai nodded, holding the metal plate cover firmly in place. “Fine. A mushroom and cheese omelet with a side of scrapple and some fried potatoes. Now, can I eat?”

Nikki sighed. “Close enough. I didn’t have any mushrooms for the omelet.”

“I’ll live. But why the third degree about breakfast?”

“We almost lost you. We had to reload all your memories. It took us a while to figure out there was a virus erasing them all.”

“Well, that explains the feelings of déjà vu and being empty-headed.”