Unremarkable (Anything But) by Lindy Zart Page A

she entered the cavern. Water dripped down the walls in gentle pings, the temperature cooling immensely without the heat of the sun. She shivered out of habit since the cold air didn’t bother her anymore.
    Almost immediately, the ground beneath her changed, became slippery and smooth. Honor bent down, feeling the metal grate. With a deep breath, she lifted it up, surprised by how light it was.
    “ Nowhere to go but down,” she muttered, keeping her grip on the grate as she slipped through the hole, careful to put it back in its place above her. She didn’t know what direction she should be moving, so Honor picked a tunnel on the right and began to walk.
    The thoughts that kept her company as she journeyed were unwanted. Memories once happy now filled her with sorrow. The one that hit her the hardest was the last time her family had been whole. Why she was thinking of it now, when she’d been able to keep it buried for so long, irritated Honor. She didn’t want to remember the past because it was gone forever and she would never get it back. She would never see her dad again and she didn’t really know if she’d ever see her mom and sister again either.
    Realizing and accepting that hollowed out a part of her and filled it with despair. So many things had been kept from her, information she clearly would have benefited from knowing; like the knowledge of what she had the potential to be and had inevitably become.
    It hadn’t been anything significant—that last day spent together. They’d had a picnic at Junction Park. It was a warm day in August, a constant breeze adding a hint of fall to the air. The sun shone and nature, peaceful and plentiful, made it close to perfect. Scarlet, then ten, pushed Honor on the swings and later Honor braided her hair as her mother braided hers. Her father watched with a content smile on his face. He was going on a trip that night to an out-of-state tool convention. He said he wanted to do some remodeling at the barber shop and was told there would be good deals on do-it-yourself tools.
    Later, she remembered him turning at the door, his brown hair forever in disarray, suitcase in hand, and his gray eyes shining with love. “Love you, baby girl,” he said, winking.
    Honor was always the last to see him off when he went on trips, the bond between them strong. She missed her father the second he was gone and that time was no different.
    “Love you, Dad,” she whispered to a closed door.
    His airplane had crashed somewhere in Nevada. It was a private plane, flown by a local man her dad had known for years. She couldn’t remember his name or if she’d ever been told it. Honor had never met him. She now wondered if her mom ever had. Had he even really gotten into a plane? Had he ever really taken trips in the name of his business? Maybe it had all been a hoax, like almost everything else Honor had thought to be true. Her breathing quickened and a sick feeling swirled in her stomach. She pushed on through the dark and drafty tunnels, trying not to think of all the things she didn’t know.
    She used to imagine she heard his voice in her head, telling her to be strong, to never give up. But Honor hadn’t heard his voice in a long time and now the silence of it was blaringly loud. Over two years had come and gone since she’d last seen her father. His death had changed her; it had woven a fissure that never healed through all of them.
    Honor lowered her head, the loss hitting her fiercely, taking her breath away. Usually she was okay, but today, now, with all that had come to pass recently, the barriers that kept her functional were removed and it was unbearable. The pain was in her head, her throat, her chest, and it was growing, tightening.
    Keep moving. Think about something else. Keep going. Although it was her own voice telling her that, Honor liked to imagine it was her father's. She couldn't remember the exact timbre of his voice, but she knew it sounded a lot like Nealon's