Free The Fog of Forgetting by G. A. Morgan Page A

forget Mommy and Daddy!” yelled Teddy.
    â€œShhh, Teddy, he’s only joking,” said Chase, but he had the sinking feeling that Seaborne was being completely serious. “Do you have a boat?” he tried again, desperate.
    â€œI did. Once.”
    â€œWhere is it?”
    â€œAt the bottom of the sea.”
    Chase smacked his own forehead in frustration. Compared to this guy, he was a born conversationalist.
    â€œI can’t believe this fog,” said Knox, staring at the line where the horizon should have been. “When’s it gonna burn off?”
    â€œIt never burns off,” answered Seaborne, climbing out of the boat. He had gathered everything he could from the Whaler: boat hook, cushions, radio—even the old pair of sunglasses from the cubby in the console—and used the bowline to tie it all in a tidy bundle, a network of veins flexing across his muscled forearms. He lifted it to his shoulder. “The fog is always there. I’ve never seen it change, except when it crowds in at dusk.”
    â€œBut if it never burns off, how does anyone go back and forth?” gulped Chase.
    â€œThey don’t. Not usually. You are the first people from beyond the fog I’ve seen since I came here myself.” He smiled again, that sudden, warm smile that seemed so out of place with the rest of him. “It’s nice to have company of my own kind.”
    Seaborne walked past them, toward the white lights on the cliff, glowing dimly in the haze. He began to climb, scaling the cliff as easily as if he were crossing the street.
    â€œComing?” he called down.
    Chase and Knox exchanged glances. What else could they do? They let Teddy go first, still wrapped in life preservers, and moving slowly. Seaborne was waiting for them at the top, the bundle of possessions at his feet. Chase saw it and mentally kicked himself for making no objection to him stripping the boat. Another careless mistake. He bent over to catch his breath, more out of habit than necessity.
    â€œWho else lives here?” he asked.
    â€œAyda has many inhabitants,” said Seaborne.
    Chase lifted his head. Progress . “Where do they live?”
    â€œWell, some of them live here, in Melor. Others live in other lands.”
    Chase exhaled loudly. Not much progress. At this rate, Teddy would be a teenager before they got any real answers.
    Knox was fiddling with a stone he’d brought with him from the beach. He held it a minute, then pitched it over the cliff. Teddy watched it fly until it disappeared and landed with a distant thwack .
    Seaborne grimaced and picked up the bundle. “You’re very sure of yourself, aren’t you, lad?”
    Knox tried to come up with a smart reply, but came up short.
    Seaborne considered the three boys for a moment. “There are forces at work in Ayda that are not always visible to the eye—or particularly friendly. Take nothing for granted,” he said seriously.
    A shiver went down Chase’s spine. Was it his imagination, or was the fog getting thicker? He turned away from the cliff’s edge. The white lights led inland and disappeared in the murk several hundred feet down the path. The air was thick and quiet, as if the fog had absorbed all the normal sounds and smells of the forest. For the third time that day, he felt afraid.
    â€œIt is a mystery, to be sure, your presence here,” Seaborne continued, looking directly at Chase. “Boats do not idly wash up on Ayda’s shore. Indeed, it is hardly possible—” He broke off and dove ahead into the woods, stopping once more to watch as Teddy tried to dig his way out of his life-preserver suit. His mouth twitched again.
    â€œâ€™Tis a strange costume young ones now wear beyond the fog.”
    Teddy froze.
    Seaborne stooped down to help him out of the last life preserver.
    â€œTell me, little man, would you like to see my home?”
    Teddy nodded, the little braids