Other than telling me to get into the car and no, I couldn’t have any ice cream, Mom was relatively silent on the drive back home. She looked lost in thought.

Part of the pill pak was sticking out of her purse, which was sitting between us. She said nothing when I removed the pak from her purse and rolled it in my hand. Other than dosing instructions, there were no markings on the pak. No company logo, manufacturer, origin, date or anything useful in figuring out what the pills contained. Well, there was a warning not to take more than the specified dose, along with a phone number to call if you did.

The package also ominously stated “Water soluble.”

I hit the button to lower my window. Mom used her buttons to raise it back up and pressed the button that locks out all the other buttons so I couldn’t lower the window again.

Mom frowned at me. She said, “I know what you’re thinking, Buster. Don’t try that again!”

“Try what?” I asked as I uselessly pressed the now inactive button to lower the window.

Mom glanced over at me and said, “Put those back in my purse, please.”

I held the pill package tightly as I looked up at Mom. “You’re going to kill my brain, aren’t you?”

Mom frowned as she grabbed the packet from my grasp. “It doesn’t kill your brain.”

I started to cry. “It turns you into a fucking zombie!”

“It does not! And watch your mouth!” shouted Mom as she hit the brakes a bit too hard at the red light. She took a few deep breaths and looked over at me. “That’s not what it does, honey. What the nurse told me is that since you’re obsessing with those thoughts, the pills will help you lose focus on them that lets nature flush those dangerous old memories in a natural way.”

“Dangerous? Really?” I asked with a tinge of anger. “How can my memories be dangerous?”

As we accelerated away from the red light, Mom said, “Dangerous because those old memories from a life that’s no longer relevant to you can only bring pain and sadness. Chrystal, you deserve to have your own life. A life filled with new memories, new joys and yes, new sadness. A life uniquely yours, not saddled with old memories that aren’t you anymore.”

“But they are me!” I exclaimed. “Just last night, something on TV made me think back to when I was in the fifth grade before; that day Dad came up to school on Kite Day a week before school ended for the summer. Dad had a bought a new kite. He taught me how to get it in the air. And how to gain altitude. We – Dad and I – had our kite flying higher than anyone else! Yes. The memory of Dad no longer being here made me sad. But Mom! The memory of flying a kite together with Dad made me so happy!”

Mom glanced over at me as she ran her fingers through my hair. “But you can have new memories, Chrys. Oliver can come up to school and help you fly a kite.”

I folded my arms and frowned. “You don’t get it. It’s not about the freakin’ kite. It’d be fake with Oliver. He’d be trying to create a memory and it wouldn’t be the same. The memory of Dad and me was… was… was organic! It just happened. It was spontaneous and wonderful. And that’s why it’s so special. And besides, when the principal too over a few years ago, she banned kite day.”

Mom frowned at me as she drove into the driveway of our house. “Don’t go around declaring any new memories you make, with Oliver or anyone else as fake. You’re making memories all the time. And some memories will fade over time. I barely remember anything from those camping trips you’re always talking about.” She stopped talking and I thought she was done. I put my hand on the door handle and was about to open the door.

Touching my arm, Mom continued. “You know what I do remember from one camping trip? You dumped your can of fishing worms on my hair!” She started tickling me. “I wish I could forget that, you little monster!” I couldn’t help but giggle.

She stopped tickling me and suddenly looked wistful. “But you know what, honey? Your best memories are yet to be made. I’ll never forget my first kiss by a boy. Johnny Bartlett. I wonder where he is now? But you have that to look forward to.”

I screwed up my face as I opened my car door. “I think I’d rather have worms in my hair.” I closed my car door.

Mom took my hand to walk with me to the front door of the house. She grinned knowingly. “You say that now. But trust me. There’ll come a time when that will change.”

As Mom opened the front door, I said, “Even if that’s true, it doesn’t mean I want to lose my old memories. It’s not like my head is going to fill up.”

Mom set her purse on the kitchen counter and took the pill pak out and set it on the table. She said, “Go play. Don’t make too much noise though. I have a headache and I think I’ll lie down a bit before making dinner.”

Surprised, I asked, “I’m not going to school today?”

Mom shook her head at me. “Naw. I think we’ve had enough for today.” She took a couple of pain pills. “See you in an hour or so.” She went into her room and closed the door.

I entered the kitchen and picked up the pill pak and looked at it. I looked over at the sink. I could shove these down the garbage disposal. She wouldn’t be able to stop me. And afterwards, what could she do? Spank me? I sighed and put the pills back down. She’d just go back and get more pills.

I went to my room and changed from my dress to a cute set of sweatpants and t-shirt. I picked up Mr. Bunny and went back into the living room. I attached my thumb drive to the TV and settled in to watch an old episode of Gunsmith Cats.

“She’s asleep.”

I rolled over on my side when I felt sure that Mom had walked back into the kitchen. Once again, Oliver had come over for dinner. He might as well live here. He and Mom were sitting at the kitchen table with their after dinner Keurig coffee to have one of their many discussions after they were sure I’d gone to sleep.

“I feel so sorry for her,” said Oliver. “Most little girls don’t have to put up with so much shit.”

Mom sighed. “That’s why I feel it’s important to clear her mind of pointless and irrelevant memories. It just makes her unhappy.”

“Do those memories really do any harm? She thinks those memories help to define her.”

Mom grunted. “Trying to take her side so she’ll like you?”

“No, of course not.” Oliver declared. “It’s just that it created such a major source of contention between you two. I wish you’d told me sooner that Chrystal was a Switcher victim so I could have helped. You don’t have to do this alone.”

“I was scared. I was afraid I’d lose you over it.”

“I love you, baby,” said Oliver. “We’re in this together. I needed to know since she’s going to be my daughter too.” He chuckled. “I always wondered why that little girl was such smart-ass. But I have noticed that lately she’s been a much more normal child.”

Voice cracking with a cry, Mom said, “Oh, I love you so much too. Look. I’m not trying to be mean here. I certainly don’t want her to be a mindless zombie. The nurse told me that these pills,” Mom rattled the pill pak. “… will only ease her mind. It won’t alter her personality. That’s basically been set. The DHS claims they have a high success rate with these pills.”

Oliver said, “How exactly does the DHS define success?”

“The nurse said somewhere between 92% and 94% of the girls after taking the pills become completely normal ten year old girls with normal reading, math and retention levels. They laugh and cry pretty much as any girl.”

“And outside those ranges?” pressed Oliver.

There was a pause. Then Mom said, “About 2% experience no change. Um… and about 5% experience a blank mind. That’s very rare.”

“What do you mean, a blank mind?”

Mom paused for a long time. “Um… just that. They lose it all. They go into special care and are re-taught everything.”

“Five percent isn’t really good odds, considering.” Oliver said. “That’s too risky if you ask me.”

Mom said, “Are you suggesting I don’t do anything?”

There was a pause and then Oliver said, “I’m suggesting we wait it out a for a while and see what happens if nature takes its course.”

Mom said, “I just want what’s best for my daughter.”

Oliver said, “And I want what’s best for our daughter.”

I couldn’t fight off sleep any longer…

To be continued…