Forget to Remember by Alan Cook

be fiction. They say a writer’s
first novel has autobiographical elements. Or maybe they all
do.”
    A desire was growing inside Carol. “I’d like
to go to North Carolina and find out the truth. Am I Cynthia or
aren’t I? Even if I have to go by train. It would be fun to take a
train across the country. It might help me remember things. Maybe I
picked the name Carol because it’s part of Carolina.”
    Rigo showed alarm. “Going cross-country
without an identity is a dangerous business.”
    Frances nodded her agreement. “Why don’t you
wait until we have the results of the DNA tests—yours and Mrs.
Horton’s? If you don’t match, there’s no need to go, because that
means you’re definitely not Cynthia. If you do match, you have to go.”
    Carol had caught hints from Rigo that he was
afraid she’d disappear. She was glad he was concerned about her,
but she was chafed by the idea that he always had to be with her.
She wanted to run her own life. She was going to run her own
life.
     
    CHAPTER 8
    Carol suggested they walk to the football
game. It couldn’t be much more than a mile to the high school from
the house, mostly downhill. Of course, it would be uphill
returning. Since Palos Verdes went from sea level to 1,500 feet, a
walker or jogger had to go either up or down. There wasn’t a lot of
level terrain.
    Rigo said he’d walked to school and had even
walked home. He admitted that after he owned a car, he pretty much
forgot about walking. “I need to drive because I have to go
directly to the restaurant after the game. Of course, I’ll take you
home first.”
    “No, I’ll walk home.” Carol thought of the
Ramirez house as home. It was the only home she knew. She’d started
taking walks in the hilly neighborhood, between the time Rigo left
for work and his parents arrived home. She wanted to gain strength
and stamina. Walking uphill let her know how out of shape she was.
She was sure she’d been physically fit before she was attacked.
    Once they were in Rigo’s car, it occurred to
Carol he’d be late for work. “The game is going to overlap your
working hours. Won’t you have to leave early? Friday must be one of
the busiest nights at the restaurant.”
    Rigo grinned. “I’ve got a special
dispensation from my boss to arrive late on the days we have home
games. I just have to work harder when I get there. And I may not
be able to eat dinner until late.”
    “You’re too skinny to have played football
yourself.”
    “I don’t like any sport where you get hit by
somebody twice your size. Tennis is my racket.”
    They parked in the high school parking lot,
and Rigo paid the nominal fee for the tickets. Carol didn’t like
not having any money of her own, and she vowed to change the
situation. Maybe she was Cynthia Sakai. If so, she’d be financially
set for life. That would be nice.
    She and Rigo had spent the last two days
scouring the Internet for information about the Sakai family. They
had looked at the missing persons photo of Cynthia. Carol
remembered what Rigo had said about it.
    “This picture makes her look almost weird. I
mean, she was apparently a model, but you’d never know it looking
at this shot. I’m into old movies. One I like is a cult movie
called Fast Times at Ridgemont High , which had Sean Penn in
it. More important, a young and very beautiful Phoebe Cates was in
it, surely one of the most gorgeous women who ever lived. Yet, I’ve
seen a PR photo of her in which she looked almost ugly. I think
we’ve got the same situation here.”
    “What made you think of Phoebe Cates?”
    “You did.”
    Carol knew Rigo was just trying to be nice.
After all, she had scars and bald spots. She was wearing her beret.
Still, a woman liked to hear compliments, however insincere.
    They walked into the stadium and sat in the
bleachers. Most of the spectators were noisy students or parents.
The teens couldn’t sit still. They were always running around to
get something to eat or