The Trouble with Time, Part 9 - Memory

"So what is the golden garden?"

As soon as the Frenchman left, Kevin ushered her to a back room, flipping the open sign to closed.

"The Golden Garden is," he begins, then hesitates, "hard to explain adequately. But here's what you need to know, to decide if you should go: it's an enchanted garden that affects the memory of those who enter there. More precisely, it takes memories from those who enter. The longer you stay, the more you forget. And there's no logic to which memories it targets. It might be you only lose mostly things irrelevant to you, though losing any part of a past will change a person, even if only slightly, but it can also be some of the things that are the most important to the person. And it affects memories specifically: knowing things isn't affected. Someone who enters will still be able to talk, and tie their shoes, and know the capitals of all the countries, if they knew that beforehand, no matter how long they spend in the Garden. They will still recognise their mother as their mother, even if they don't remember anything they've ever done with her. They will still recognise their friends as their friends, recall their names, but not all the times they've spent together."

"But those times are what makes the friends," she says, quietly. "The friends won't feel like friends, will they? They will feel like strangers, just ones you know you used to be close to?"

"Yes," Kevin admits. "Usually, after people leave the garden, they can regain some of the memories, but never all, and never properly. The memories that do come back will be like memories of dreams, not like memories of real life."

"Why does monsieur what's-his-name need the orange?"

"I don't know. But things that grow in the Garden have some special properties, and if they're required as ingredients, normally nothing can replace them. Because getting anything from the garden poses such a hazard to anyone who enters, even simple things have an incredibly high price once they're here."

"Like two bottles of First Love."

"Like two bottles of First Love. But unlike something like a First Love, things in the Garden aren't difficult to get because they're so rare, or because timing is vital, or because only just the thing will do. They're difficult to get because of the cost to whoever goes to get them. Technically, you can simply walk into the Garden, get the orange, and walk out. The problem is you might lose yourself on the way. Hell, you might forget why you're there in the first place, or forget the way you've just walked, and take a long time to get out, if you ever do."

She's quiet for a long time, thinking through what she just heard.

"Where's the tree in the Garden?" she finally asks.

"From where my door leads, it's about half way to the middle of the Garden. I know it doesn't sound like much, but the Garden is huge. It will take you hours to walk, one way."

"How much is hours in that place? Memory-wise? How fast do people lose the memories?"

"A day will visibly change a person. People who have made it out after a couple of weeks remember very little of themselves."

She's quiet again.

"So we need to find a way to minimize the time I'm in there, maybe some way to move around faster," she says. "And a way to make sure I don't forget why I'm there, and how to get out. And I'll need to write down everything important, so that if I do come back remembering nothing, at least I have my past self telling me who I am. Maybe there's a way to make the forgetting slower?"

"I don't know if there is," Kevin hesitates. "But if there is, I think Sam might know. I'll ask them."

"Is there any other way for me to get the First Love?"

"Luck," he answers after a moment of thought. "The only other way for you to get your hands on a First Love is through luck. But you don't need to make the decision right now. Take a night and sleep on it."

She's quiet for a long time after that, weighing her options, weighing the risk of not managing to get the First Love in time to the risk of going into the Garden. She doesn't want to do it. She doesn't want to do any of it. And if she forgets everything, it won't matter if she gets the First Love or not. It will all be for nothing. She knows Kevin would still finish her work anyway, and that means a lot to her, even though at that point it doesn't really matter anymore.

This is a terrible idea.

But it seems to be the least terrible of the ideas she has. She sighs.

"I don't need a night. Nothing will be different tomorrow. I'll do it."
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 The topic for tomorrow is Pier.

~matleena