Memory Girl Read Online Free PDF Page A

beams. “I expected to love my Family but not to have the deep love I feel for my husband—even before my first memdenity.”
    Merry, who sits in the front row, raises her hand. “Did memdenity hurt?”
    â€œNot at all!” Greta chuckles. “It’s like going to sleep and having wondrous dreams of new people and experiences, then waking to find these experiences really happened to you—at least through memories. My second mem was the best. That’s when I remembered all my firsts with Monroe: first meeting, date, and our beauteous wedding.”
    â€œOoh, I hope it’s like that for me,” says Polly, a quiet youth who shares my interest in reading retro-books. Many rainy days we’ve sat together in the reading nest, a cushioned seat surrounded by curved windows, traveling to faraway places with words.
    â€œBlah! Too sappy,” spits out Homer. “Tell me exciting memories, like in retro-century when people wentbrain-crazy or the Attack on ShareHaven. If I’d been there when that the terror-mob Attacked, I would have ripping kicked those—”
    â€œHomer!” Instructor Penny slaps her hands together, a gesture for silence. “You will not speak rudely.”
    â€œBut I want to know about—”
    â€œHomer!” She rises in her chair warningly.
    He opens his mouth as if to argue, then slumps his shoulders. “I apologize,” he mumbles.
    Marcus, in the chair beside me, lifts his hand. “May I ask a question?”
    Instructor Penny nods, clearly relieved. “Please, do, Marcus.”
    â€œI was wondering about the other youths from the last born-group,” he says slowly, as if carefully choosing each word.
    â€œYes?” Greta says, turning toward him. “What would you like to know?”
    â€œYou each went to different Families. Do you still see them?”
    â€œOh, yes.” Greta nods. “At City Center, faith service, and Sunday Fair.”
    â€œBut is it the sameness?” Marcus gnaws his lips. “Are you still friends with all fourteen of your born-mates?”
    Her tawny skin pales as she glances over at Monroe, who gives a terse shake with his head. Greta’s smile stiffens as she answers, “I am friendly with all of my community.”
    Marcus’s brows knit together, and he picks at the dirt under his thumb like he always does when troubled.
    Greta goes on to describe her community role in the Role Assignments Office, where she organizes communal workhours, and her daily Family chores of tending livestock and gardening. She glows when she speaks of her Hu Family relatives: three sisters, a brother, five nieces, seven nephews, and a grandfather who is the only Family member who appears older than twenty-five, a founding member of ShareHaven who didn’t cease aging until the rare age of fifty-two.
    â€œGramps refuses hair shading,” Monroe adds with a pearly grin that dimples with humor. “He says he earned every one of his gray hairs.”
    â€œHe certainly has.” Greta grins back at her husband.
    â€œI’ve met many of our founding citizens and they are so wise in experience,” Instructor Penny adds, then glances at the wall timepiece with surprise. “Graces good, we’re out of time. This has been such an inspiring talk. Thank you so much for sharing with us.”
    â€œI’ve enjoyed coming here. I know I learned much here, but I remember little of those youth years.” Greta gazes around the room, from chairs to work stations to the large table stacked with Name Books. “When I think of my childhood, I visualize a tall building in a faraway place called Chicago. My home was a two-bedroom apartment on the ninth floor, with a balcony blooming with potted flowers and a sparkling blue view overlooking the lake.”
    â€œBut you’ve never left the island,” I blurt. “What of your Abigail memories?”
    â€œThey