Episode 3: “I Don’t Remember My Brother”
Genre: Mystery/thriller
Protagonist: Blank Slate
Antagonist: Sympathetic
Subgenre 1: Contemporary
Subgenre 2: Children’s Book
Must Contain: Clones
Trope: Amnesia
Who am I? Honestly, I don’t remember. I woke up with a headache and a bit of a sore throat in a big white room. An old man then rounded the corner. “Good morning,” he said. I tried to respond, but my throat was too dry. He handed me a cup of…something…and told me to drink.
“Who are you?”
“What’s wrong? Do you not recall?”
I shook my head.
“I’m your dad.”
My dad? I have a dad? I honestly can’t remember a thing.
“Well, why don’t you go explore the house? That should jog your memory.”
I hopped out of the chair and ran into a room across the hall. There was a spare bedroom full of toys and electronics, and it just lay there undisturbed as if it was all mine. I ran to a tablet plugged into the wall. But my disappointment rose as I unlocked the screen. It required a passcode, but I couldn’t guess what it was. I threw it back down and ran toward the miniature race cars.
I put together some tracks and pulled out a car. Was it my favorite? I’m not exactly sure. I flipped the switch on the motor, and an excited voice said, “Start your engines! Place your car at the beginning of the track to get started.” I placed my car down and lifted the lever to start the race. As the car rolled down, it got stuck between the wheels of the motor while the voice deepened then disappeared. I flipped the switch again. Oh no! The motor was out of batteries.
That’s okay! I’ll just play with something that doesn’t require electricity, like the ball resting in the corner. As I picked it up, I saw another boy enter the room. He stared at me with his green eyes as if he was scared of me.
“Hi,” he muttered.
“Hey. What’s your name?”
“It’s PJ. Who are you?”
“I…don’t know my name.”
“Oh.”
We spent a couple of seconds staring at each other. What was I supposed to do?
“So…do you know who I am?”
“I think so,” PJ sounded more comfortable with me. “I’m going to call you PB!”
“PB?” I liked the sound of that. It’s like we were similar.
“Want to play?” PJ held up a couple action figures.
“Sure! How do you play?”
“You hit the swords together,” PJ looked confused.
“Ready….Go!” PJ pivoted the figure and hit mine with his sword. I stood there blankly, wondering what my next move needed to be.
“I hit your guy,” he said. “He’s knocked out.”
“Oh,” I said. “I didn’t know.”
“One more time,” PJ held the figure out. I readied my hand, knowing to tap the swords together. “Ready? Go!”
Our plastic heroes swung at each other. I had gotten pretty good, but no one was going to win this way. So I lifted my guy up and stomped on the other figure’s head.
“Hey! I win!” I elated.
“No, no, no,” PJ grunted. “You can’t just stomp on my guy!” He threw the figure on the ground and pulled a remote controlled truck out of a trunk. “Here, we can play with the truck. Watch me.”
PJ lifted up on a switch and the truck zoomed across the room. He flipped another switch to slow the truck’s speed before it took off toward the pile of stuffed animals. Before it could hit the cushions, he turned a wheel, and it swerved to face us.
“You can play with this one,” he handed me the remote. “I have another one in the trunk. I’ll be right back.”
I throttled the switch, causing the car to ram into my foot. I picked it up, faced it away from me, and revved it up again. But it was going so fast. What happened? I realized that I had accidentally flipped the acceleration switch from slow to maximum. The car didn’t have time to stop as it ran right into the wall, creating a dent and destroying the bumper.
PJ ran back. “What did you do?”
“I don’t know. It was an accident. I’m sorry.”
Redness filled his face. “No, you aren’t! I don’t want you anymore; you’re ruining everything. Now get out of my room.”
Confused and hurt, I shuffled out of the playroom before PJ slammed the door behind me. My dad peered out of the room where I had woken up.
“Come here,” he whispered. I followed him back and sat in my chair. However, I saw something familiar ahead of me. It was PJ, and he was sitting in my chair! What was going on?
“I heard the ruckus, and I’m sure you’re confused.”
I nodded my head.
My dad sighed. “I guess I didn’t give you much explanation when you woke up.”
“No,” I muttered. “But I think I get it.”
“Oh?”
“I look just like PJ. I’m like a clone. It’s why he looked at me so harshly when he walked in the playroom. It’s why he expected me to know exactly how to play his games. And it’s probably why he doesn’t want me anymore.”
“Did he say that to you?”
Water fell from my eye as a pit formed in my stomach. What was going on with me?
Dad kneeled beside me. “You’re pretty smart for having just woken up. Yes, that’s all true. PJ would get so bored that I took the liberty of cloning his DNA. That’s where you came from. I never meant for him to be upset with you. I only wanted to give him a brother.”
“But he doesn’t want me.”
“That’s what he says right now, but with a little time and with a little patience, you two will get along. Learn to play, learn to talk, learn from what he tells you. In time, he will learn to accept your presence, and eventually, he will learn to love you.”
© D. S. Bertolo Books | 2023
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