February 28th 2664 (Adult Nardho's POV)

PSALM FOR THE MOUNTAINS

I will lift up my eyes to the hills, from whence come my strength

To the mountains:

Levo oculus meos in montes

Will I ever be as majestic as you are?

Up there, smiling at the clouds

Blanketed by the soothing mist

Unmoving, undeterred by the roaring winds

Will I ever be as fearless as you are?

Bold in the face of storms

Patient whenever the rain comes

Marvelous under the sunshine

To the winds:

Please carry my sorrow away

Heal my wounds

And let me be as free as you are

-N.A.S

The flowers that became my and Moira's alma mater's namesake were not really blue. Blue orchids, or Vanda coeruela, were more purplish than azure. According to Kenta, there was only one species of truly blue orchids, the Thelymitra crinita. Curious, I of course asked him why the founders of our university decided to go with the former instead of the latter and he explained that it had to do with each flower's habitat. Vanda variants typically grow in temperate places surrounded by hills and mountains, which Red Sycamore had in abundance. Meanwhile, Thelymitra variants could grow in higher elevations but they would do much better in hotter coastal areas and our alma mater was nowhere near a sunny ocean. If we forced them to survive without receiving much heat, their blossoms would not be able to mature and fully bloom.

"If our university were located closer to that beach in Golden Valley, perhaps we would have seen the exterior walls of the Student Union building embellished with carvings of Thelymitra instead," Kenta once speculated. "Perhaps one day I or another botany-enthusiast will succeed in hybridizing the two species together. Imagine that, Nardho, the marriage of the land and the sea."

Last year, after countless failed attempts, he finally had a breakthrough and his creations, petite yet sturdy violet flowers he called Pulchra caelestimare lewisensis, were proudly displayed on the biochemistry department's roof garden. I had promised Moira and Izzy to bring them to campus so that they could see Kenta's scientific feat and this afternoon I fulfilled my promise.

"These flowers are gorgeous!" Izzy gasped. "How long did it take Uncle Kenta to come up with this entirely new species? 37 years? I know he's obsessed with plants, but damn!"

"Yeah, he's ambitious like that. He was still 29 when the idea first struck him," I replied as my niece crouched down to get a closer look at the flowers, "and now he's about to turn 67. If that man is not perseverance itself then I don't know what to call him."

Moira, who had stayed quiet the whole time I explained botanical stuff to Izzy, reached out for my hand and squeezed it tightly. "I wish I could remember more about what he was like when he was younger," she sighed. "This memory loss, it's troubling me. It's one thing if I was cursed to never form new memories ever again but it's another thing entirely that I'm unable to recall much of my experiences in college and the decades after."

"Not to invalidate your feelings, Auntie Moira, but an inability to form new memories would be extremely sad," Izzy interjected. "Being stuck in the past would suck, yeah, but not having a future to look forward to would be soul-crushing," she then turned to me. "Wouldn't you agree, Uncle Nardho? Knowledge of the past and hope for the future are equally important because they affect how well we enjoy our present."

"I wouldn't argue with that," I tried to smile. "Moira, I'll do my best to learn more about how human memory works. Even if I keep failing to find a way to restore your old memories, I'm not giving up. As impossible as it may seem, I want to see if we can reverse your retrograde amnesia. If Kenta can wait almost 40 years to see his dreams come true, I can too."

"That's sweet, but in 40 years you'll be 97 and I 96," my wife lowered her gaze to the ground. "Who can guarantee that we will both still be alive? Isn't the average life expectancy for average Indigo Infernoans around 85 as of this year? How much could technology advance in less than half a century?"

"Nobody knows, honey," I tightened my grip around her fingers. "But I won't stop the fight."

"Speaking of things worth fighting for," Izzy interrupted, "who or what inspired Uncle Kenta to create those flowers? Why didn't he throw the towel in after so many failures?"

"For Lewis, I guess, whoever that is," Moira chimed in as she read the Latin nomenclature printed on the information board next to the patches of flower. "That's what lewisensis mean, right? Was there ever a professor named Lewis?"

"That's Johan's middle name," I laughed. "He is a lucky guy, getting flowers dedicated to him."

"What did Uncle Johan do to make Uncle Kenta adore him this much?" Izzy asked. "That's the greatest act of love I've ever heard of. My parents are loving, yes, but I don't think mom and dad would ever do this sort of thing for each other."

"That's something I've been teasing my older brother for since forever," I laughed harder. "I've always jokingly told him that Kenta is way too good for him. He usually would retaliate by saying Moira is too good for me."

"Am I really?" Moira stared at me, her lips curving upward but her eyes started to fill with tears. "You sure it isn't the other way around? You being patient enough to stay with me even when I have caused you—", her voice was laced with a tinge of regret and she struggled to finish her sentence. "Caused a great deal of pain," she at last whispered so faintly I barely understood her.

"Auntie..." Izzy pulled her into a hug. "As far as I know, you and Uncle Nardho have a rock solid marriage. You heard him, right? He's willing to spend the rest of his life figuring out how to get your memories back, so I'm sure he doesn't think you're a source of pain."

"Maybe he's too kind and polite to say it outright," Moira sighed. "There's no way he doesn't think a spouse forgetting a lot of crucial moments together isn't painful."

Izzy shifted her gaze between my wife and me before replying. "You didn't mean to forget things. No one can blame you for your illness and no one could have foreseen it."

"Moira," I put my hand on her cheek and cupped her face. "The path ahead isn't going to be easy, but I promised you once that I will be with you in health and in sickness. I have no intention of breaking that sacred promise. We are a team, for better or for worse, get it?"

"What did I do in my past lives to deserve a husband like you?" she sobbed onto my shoulder.

"I'm sure you were nothing short of a celestial being," Izzy reassured her. "Mom and dad would agree with me. They think you're the gentlest woman they've ever known."

"Speaking of a gentle person," I cut in, "you told me you wanted to have a reunion with our friends from the dormitory right, Moira? Do you remember Rain and their girlfriend Vannie?"

"The quiet and shy one?" she asked hesitantly. "The one who loved poetry and modern dance?"

"So you do remember a bit!" I exclaimed. "Yeah, that's Rain. They and Vannie are in town so if you are still up for friendly chit chat I can give them a call and see if they can meet us today."

"That would be lovely," she murmured. "Izzy can tag along too, right?"

"Oh, I'm not sure I'd be much fun around people almost twice my age," the young lady in question smiled apologetically. "I'll just explore this huge campus on my own while you catch up with old friends. Any suggestion of what else I should see, Uncle Nardho?"

"There's a trail leading to a river not very far from here," I showed her a map of the campus on my phone. "If you keep going past the bridge, you'll find a cave with a statue of Mother Mary."

"This is surprising," Izzy said with a hint of amusement in the way she spoke. "I thought mom mentioned briefly you've stopped being a practicing Catholic in your early twenties."

"I get a feeling he is now holding to any hope he could find," Moira held up her right hand. The rosary bracelet I told her to keep after her episode of night terror many months ago still adorned her wrist. "Maybe it's the only thing keeping him sane," she looked up to study my expression. "Maybe even when he outwardly denies it he does like the idea that someone is listening."

I closed my eyes and nodded slowly. She wasn't wrong. I was playing my own version of Pascal's wager because if there really were nobody up there the worst that could happen was I made a fool of myself but if there was somebody then perhaps it couldn't hurt to coax whoever this entity was into doing me a favor—nothing to lose and possibly a powerful deity to negotiate with. If this sounded sacrilegious, then be it. I needed a reason not to return to that time I filled my pockets with pebbles and made poor Johan cry. I needed a reason to believe in tomorrow.

---

Rain and Vannie agreed to meet at a taco shop but we had about an hour and half before the meeting so I took Moira to a park downtown. The park had not changed much from the time we were there a couple of years ago, only that there were now more street musicians, some performing solo and some as a group of three or four performers. A crowd had begun to form around them but thankfully Moira and I managed to find a corner to sit down in.

Neither of us recognized most of the songs being played, but we both still gladly listened to the alternating sounds of cello, clarinet, tambourine, and trombone. My mind wandered to the thought of how wonderful it would be right now to have Nardhia sing along to the music and to watch Johan accompany her with his harmonica. Apparently Moira had similar thoughts since she leaned closer and whispered in my ear: "Isn't your sister a singer? She would be a nice addition to those buskers. It could fun seeing her busking just because."

"My twin and I did consider a career as entertainers at some point," I answered. "In our youthful imagination, we once dreamed of being nomads and of how liberating it would feel to travel wherever our hearts please. The reason we didn't pursue this for real was because we knew we couldn't realistically achieve financial stability by being on the road."

"Fair enough," Moira nodded. "Do you miss being young? Aside from your goal of restoring my memories, which I'm appreciative of, do you think you have now accomplished everything you wanted to? You never regret settling down, did you ever?"

"Sometimes I do wish time machine isn't just a fancy gadget from the land of fantasies so that I could revisit the moments I felt invincible, but other than that I'm grateful I settled down with you." I kissed the top of her head. "You've been supportive of me, let me support you in return."

Moira put her hand on top of mine and we turned our attention to the loud musical scene before us. I glanced at my watch—twenty minutes left before we had to head to the taco shop. I was about to help Moira get up when a heavily tattooed, green haired, baggy jeans wearing guitarist approached us with a huge grin. Oh shoot, I didn't think I have spare coins on me. To my relief, the guitarist wasn't asking for coins. Instead, she bowed to us and we bowed back in confusion.

"You look familiar!" she exclaimed. "I think I've seen you somewhere, sir. Let me think," she stroked her chin and then her eyes lit up. "Ah, you're Nardho Sitohang! You were a music theory professor in Blue Orchid before you semi-retired, right? I remember you leading a jazz orchestra back in 2658. What was that piece you composed again, A Rose On The Strings?"

"Yeah, that's the one," I replied, still in shock. "I'm honored you enjoyed my composition."

"I would love to do a guitar cover of that beautiful arrangement!" she said giddily.

I glanced at my watch again—sixteen minutes to go until our meeting with Rain and Vannie. Sensing my nervousness, Moira wrapped her hand around my waist and told me to let the eager guitarist do the cover. "She's a fan of yours, let's show some appreciation," Moira mouthed.

The guitarists' fingers started moving and soon a melody I hadn't heard in six years filled the air.

Honey,

No songs are enough to serenade you

Your smile and your gentle words

They are the essence of my world

Honey,

Try as I may tonight and many nights after

No songs can capture your beauty

In my head is the echo of your laughter

In my mind is the twinkle of your eyes

In the humblest way I can

Please accept this lonesome rose

In the simplest way I know how

Let my love shows through my prose

Though I know not how to tell a tale

I know how to say what I feel

You make me feel free and strong

Though I am chained and weak

Don't let my heart break

For I know not how to mend it

Honey,

I bring you a rose on the strings tonight

I put it on top of my guitar

I bring you all that I am

All these I sing to you

Through this imperfect song

As the guitarist finished her cover and dramatically did a curtsy, Moira clapped in awe.

"That was amazing! I'm so happy I get to hear a cover of Nardho's song!" she beamed. "I'm curious, though," she turned around to face me. "Why does the last line say it's an imperfect song? What was on your mind when you composed the lyrics?"

"I would like to know to, if I'm not being impolite," the guitarist chimed in.

"It is an imperfect song because every single human language is so limited in its ability to convey undying love and admiration for someone," I explained. "I believe even if I could speak all the languages ever known to humankind I would still fail to express how blessed I am to have someone I adore."

"You, sir, are a true example of humility. I'm delighted you gave me a chance to play your own song for you," the guitarist shook my hand. "I'll let you and your sweet wife be on your way."

---

I was afraid we would be running late but Moira and I reached the taco shop just as Rain and Vannie arrived. After the waitress took everyone's orders, Vannie asked how our day had been. Moira recounted our encounter with the guitarist and Vannie laughed so hard she almost fell from her chair while Rain shook their head half in adoration and half in amusement.

"That's so random but wow you're so lucky to have a fan," the laughing woman clutched her stomach. "You haven't stopped composing songs, have you? You deserve to have even more fans, man!" she raised her glass of sparkling cider and when she saw me smiled sheepishly she smiled back. "Fame isn't a bad thing, Nardho. You can spread happiness with your music."

I second what she said, Rain signed. Happiness is meant to be shared and music is a great medium, just like any form of art. That's what I'm doing with my dancing too, spreading joy.

"I don't have any desire to be famous, but making others happy is definitely something noble to aspire to," I muttered. "There are people who have worked hard to make sure I'm happy and I would love to pay it forward. The problem is that my songs aren't always the happiest songs."

"All the more reasons you should share it with the world, honey," Moira interjected. "Happiness can only be appreciated if there is sadness too. All emotions need to be given the same amount of recognition, even the less pleasant ones like anger, uncertainty, fear, and loneliness."

It takes bravery to convey a range of emotions as an artist, Rain added. But once you do so you might inspire others to also be brave and be honest with themselves about their feelings.

"Speaking of, how are you doing nowadays, Nardho? Last time I gave you a call you confided in me that you've been seeing a therapist, so how is therapy going?" Vannie asked.

"There is some progress," I replied. "Some sessions were harder because Dr. Amanda Torres forced me to confront the lies my brain has been feeding me but that's exactly what I need, being reminded that my brain has been lying to me about my self-worth."

"That's incrediblewhat the psychologist can do for you!" Vannie raised her glass again. "To yourwell-being, may you stay well so that you can help your loved ones stay welltoo!"