their faces clearly, but he knew who they were.
They were his family.
Then the faintly remembered voices began in his head, one voice standing out from all the others.
“We are not afraid to die … we will not leave our land …”
But they had left. The book had said they fled to Mexico.
“It will do you no good to kill us … my son will find you, and he will kill you …”
The words echoed in Alex’s head. He stood up and began walking up the hillside, and then, when he was near the top, he plunged into a tangle of scrub oak, and a moment later began digging. The earth, packed hard after nearly a century and a half, resisted, but in the end gave way.
Two feet below the surface, Alex found the ancient skeletons. He hunched low to the ground, staring at the three skulls, their hollow eye sockets seeming to plead with him; then he slowly reburied them. When the job was finished, he began walking once again, staying high on the hillside, but always keeping the hacienda in his view. The memories were coming clearer now, and images of what had happened there flashed brightly in his mind.
The walls—the whitewashed walls—were stained with crimson, and the bodies, crumpled and torn, lay still in the dust.
And then, as he moved around to the east, the images began to fade, and soon were gone altogether.
The images were gone, but the memories remained.
Finally he came back down into the village.
Lisa Cochran looked up when the bell on Jake’s door clattered noisily, and waved to Alex as he walked into the pizza parlor. He hesitated, then joined Lisa and Bob Carey at the table they were sharing.
“How come you weren’t in school this afternoon?”
“I went to the library,” Alex replied. “There was some stuff I wanted to look up.”
“So you just went?” Bob asked. “Jeez, Alex, didn’t you even ask anyone if it was all right? They’ll mark you down for a cut.”
Alex shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.”
Lisa looked at Alex sharply. “Alex, is something wrong?”
Again Alex shrugged, then glanced from Lisa to Bob. “Can I … well, can I ask you guys a question without you thinking I’m nuts?”
Bob Carey rolled his eyes and stood up. “Ask Lisa,” he said. “I gotta get out of here—I promised Kate I’d come by on my way home and give her the homework assignments.”
“When’s she coming back to school?” Lisa asked.
“Search me,” Bob replied. Then he lowered his voice. “Did you hear anything about her not coming back at all?”
Lisa shook her head. “Who’d you hear that from?”
“Carolyn Evans. She said she didn’t think Kate would come back to school until after they try her dad, and if he gets convicted, she doesn’t think Kate will come back at all.”
Lisa groaned. “And you believed her? Carolyn Evans? Oh, come on, Bob. Even if Mr. Lewis did do it, nobody’s going to hold it against Kate!”
“I don’t know,” Bob replied. “Sometimes people can get really weird.” Then, after shooting a meaningful look toward Alex, he left.
“I don’t believe it!” Lisa cried when he was gone. “I swear to God, Alex, sometimes people make me so mad. Carolyn Evans spreading gossip like that, and Bob looking at you like you’re some kind of nut—”
“Maybe I am,” Alex said, and Lisa, her mouth still open, stared at him for a moment.
“What?”
“I said, maybe I am a nut.”
“Oh, come on, Alex. You’re not crazy—you just don’t remember a lot of things.”
“I know,” Alex replied. “But I’m starting to remember some things, and they’re really strange. I mean, they’re things I couldn’t possibly remember, because they happened before I was even born.”
“Like what?” Lisa asked. She started to fidget with a straw that lay dripping Coke on the Formica tabletop. She wasn’t at all sure she wanted to know.
“I’m not sure,” Alex said. “It’s just images, and words, and things that don’t look quite right. But I don’t know what it all means.”
“Maybe it doesn’t mean anything. Maybe it’s just all in your brain. You know, from the accident?”
Alex hesitated, then nodded. “Maybe you’re right.” But in his own mind, he wasn’t so sure. The memories had seemed too real to be figments of his imagination.
Suddenly Lisa looked up at him. “Alex, do you think Mr. Lewis killed Mrs. Lewis?”
Alex hesitated, then shrugged. “How should I know?”
“Well, none of us knows,” Lisa replied. “But what do you think?”
Suddenly Alex remembered his dream from the night Kate’s mother had died.
“I