Sunday, January 22, 2012

137

Sherlock Holmes knew that all he ever saw or heard or read or knew was still in his brain; he only had to access it. Sara Ferguson knew this, too, because she could time travel.

Sara could look at an old picture, perhaps the one where she was nine years old, standing in the kitchen, laughing with her older cousin and pointing. Sara was wearing the blue velour shorts she loved and didn't want to stop wearing even though they were getting too short for her. Her t-shirt was from Heath Road Elementary and she had begged her mom for it at the Heath Road Bazaar two years prior. Her hair was up in a bun and loose strands were tickling her face, driving her mad when she had a quiet moment to feel them. Her socks were dirty white with blue bands around the tops, specially chosen to wear with her blue shorts even though the left sock had a hole under the ball of her foot. She was helping her cousin Bette make a salad and had offered to clean the carrots with the potato peeler into the side of the sink with the garbage disposal. There was going to be steak and she could smell it cooking on the grill as they worked. Bette trimmed radishes so the white insides showed and she balanced them in her eyes and said, "I'm Little Orphan Annie!" Sara's mom grabbed the instant camera from the low cupboard under her father's drawer and made Bette and Sara pose again. Bette had repeated her line, but added, "Did you know that radishes are good for retinas?" which had made Sara laugh again.

Sara blinked and was sitting in her cell, the last living member of her family.

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