I wonder if I’d ever decide how Doctor Vavilovs’ office makes me feel. It’s here that I learned the tricks that help me remember my birthdays. It’s here I remembered the day my little brother was born, after forgetting who he was not a month after. But it’s also a constant reminder. Two days every month I come here. Because I was foolish. Selfish. Stupid. That will be with me forever. And so will this office.

His receptionist and student smiles to me as I walk in. She arrived last year and would sometimes sit in on our appointments. I waived and pointed to the doctors office. She nodded, and gestured for me to go on in. She was mute.

I knocked while opening the door. Doctor Vavilov was sitting at his couch, looking over my file. As I walked in, he dramatically checked his watch. “Hmm.” He said to no one and nothing in general. “Time, where does she go?”

“Same place we do.” I respond, taking my place in the chair across.

“Hmm.” He said again. “Well, shall we get started?”

I took a moment to get comfortable. And then I took a moment longer to make a show of getting comfortable. I had two minutes before the appointment officially started. They were mine to use. Finally I nodded.

He took the pencil from his ear, and sorted through my documents, writing a few notes down on a pad that sat next to him. Than he erased something at the end of it. “How is your family doing?”

“Well.” I say. “Mama is getting ready for a new piece. And there hasn’t been a workplace incident at the forge for almost eight months now.”

“I had heard about that. Just in sight of a new record for the forge is it not?”

“Nine months.” I agree.

“Your father is doing good work than, as foreman.”

“His best.” I agree again. “Nothing less will do.”

“And how are your brothers doing?” he asked, this time looking up for my answer. Carefully studying my answer. Looking through my eyes.

This caused a flash of anger. Not at him. I couldn’t blame him, he was doing his job. The anger was towards me. He watched my response because this was a trouble area. A thing I had forgotten before. And I hated myself for it. That I could forget one of the most important people in the world. He and the other adults would offer me excuses. But I had to leave myself accountable for my actions.

“Nikolai and Erak are doing very well.” he nodded at my response, smiling slightly. He was happy for me. For my small victory. “Nikolai has been moved to Ashfild. He’s serving as one of the lawyers now at the Central Labor Union.” I say proudly.

“He’s doing extremely well for himself. And accomplishing amazing things for the union I’m sure.” He said, happily writing more notes down, after sweeping away eraser marks. “Now how is little Erak doing? He’s at such an important period of development isn’t he?”

I grinned. This was also a test. “He’s trying to speak in full sentences now.” I say fondly and proudly. I help him with flashcards almost every night.

“Oh really? Already?” he said, with genuine interest. “That is rather quick? He’s about what now? Nineteen months?”

“Fourteen.” I correct harsher than I intended. “The smartest kid his age!” I insisted, leaning forward in the chair.

He smiled. “Well I am glad that you’ve been able to form such a strong attachment with him.” He said, writing in his notes, erasing and than writing again. “Can you tell me the first time you remember meeting him?” I hesitate. He looks up from his notes, and said, “Please, take your time. This is at your pace, Hildr.”

“No.” I said. “It’s fine. I have it.” I started regulating my breathing for a few seconds as I tried grabbing for the memory. It’s one that I’ve remembered before, so it’s easier than the first time. When I’d lost it. “I was taken out of school. It was right before lunch. Papa came in and checked me out to see him. He was wrapped in my old blanket, the one that grandma knitted when Nikolai was born, when Papa handed him to me and...” I sniffled. Rubbing my eyes I continued. “He looked at me and held a finger to touch my nose. He just held my nose and I...I decided that I was going to be the best big sister in the world.” I looked at Doctor Vavilov and said bitterly. “And then I forgot him.”

“Hildr you can’t blame yourself for something you have no control over.” He interjected. “And this event was also the one that finally allowed you to realize and accept that you needed help.”

“Right.” I say, not willing to argue. It was easier to agree. I knew it was my fault. My mistake.

“Let’s move on.” He said, flipping through my file. “Off the top of your head, tell me the first thing you recall.”

“Three weeks ago I recited the tale of Ragnar Lodbrok at the hall to the smaller children.” I rattled off, not giving it much thought.

“From memory?” he asked, with a sly smile.

“Yes.” I laughed. “From memory.”

“Can you describe the children’s faces?” again, writing notes on his pad. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him run out of paper. He breaks his pencil a lot.

“Excited.” I say, than smiling as I said, “Enthralled.” A good word. “It is a good tale. Filled with action.”

“And the room around you?”

I frown. Furrow my brow. “It’s the last room down the left corridor. Do you know it?”

“I do not.” He says, patiently. “Your hall is not for me.”

“There’s a hearth in the middle. It was burning low, and I had to keep one of the children from stoking it too high. That’s when I decided to tell them a tale.” I rubbed my temples, annoyed. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright.” he said, writing more notes. The pencil snapped and he cursed. He got up to sharpen it. “Please continue. You were describing the room for me.”

“There’s sage hanging on the rafters. I’ll need to change it out tomorrow, now that I think of it.”

“The Union provides the Society with sage?” he asked, looking up from his notes, confused and maybe annoyed or suspicious. The word ‘apprehension’ comes from the either.

“We grow it.” I say. “Or rather Gyoja does. Nothing the hall has comes from the Union.”

“Ah.” he said, returning to his notes again. “Yes that would make sense.”

“On the walls to either side, carved into the wood, is Fleki and Gheli, with Huginn and Muninn flying above them. And at the back of the room, sitting on his throne, is a carving of the All-Father. That’s why I picked this room to tell the story. It’s a good place for stories.” I smile. “Is that good?”

“Perfectly recalled, yes.” He said, writing more notes, growling at the eraser shavings. “This is a very strong memory, I’d say.”

“It’s easier to remember the things that happen at the hall”

“Well it is a place of significance to you.” Than he chuckled, checking his watch. “It doesn’t hurt that you spend most of your freetime there as well.” Than, he placed his hands folded in his lap. “I think it time we discussed why you forgot the time of today's appointment.”

I cursed to myself. I had almost thought that he’d forget to bring it up. This in turn made me smile. The Doctor forgetting. “It’s not the same as usual.” I assured him. “Not like when I can’t remember at all. I was just...very busy.”

“What had you so distracted? Nothing that would endanger you I hope, I did notice you were entering the police offices after all.” He said, with simple concern.

“Not me. I was there to help...to help a comrade find the bravery he’s always had.”

“Can you elaborate further?”

“No.”

“Fair enough. Well then let’s move on.” he started shifting his papers around, and pulling out a dark green piece of construction paper about the size of a notecard. “This will be your color for the week.”

I nodded, studying it hard. Trying to commit it to the deepest parts of my memory. This was one of the things he used to test and train my memory. I had to remember the color of the cards three weeks out.

“Now,” he said, shoving it away, and flipping back in some of his previous notes. “What was the color of the card last week?”

I opened my mouth, ready to spit out an answer, but hesitated half way through. “Yel...low?”

“Are you asking me or telling me?” He grinned.

“Yellow.” I said again.

“Yes it was yellow.” he nodded. “And the week before that?”

“Blue.” I remembered that clearly. Blue was the easiest color to remember.

“And the color at the beginning of this month?”

I didn’t remember. I didn’t even remember going to therapy at all that week. Instead, any attempt to recall it was met with that familiar grey emptiness. I tried my breathing exercises. I tried my recall ticks. I got nothing for my efforts. I growled in anger, eyes closed.

“It was red.” Doctor Vavilov sighed. My eyes snapped open. I glared at him. “You can look at my notes if you want.” He snorted, holding them up.

“You could have given me time!” I bark.

“Hildr.” He said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “You’ve been trying to remember for the past fifteen minutes.” I sucked air between my teeth. “It was becoming painfully clear that you would not recall the memory.” noticing the pain and anger I pointed at myself, he smiled encouragingly. “It’s nothing to be angry about, nor is it in any way a failure that you don’t remember. That is the point of all of this, to make you stronger. Do not get discouraged, that’s the only way that you can lose.”

“Now,” He said, standing. “You’re scheduled to see me again next tuesday at the usual time. Do not forget again, you won’t have an excuse for it.”

“Thanks, Doctor.” I say, shaking his hand and walking out the door.

“Green!” He said after me, “Don’t forget!”