Stars

On the Run

'Bucky, I don't want to be alone. You help the memories. And the nightmares. Maybe. Disclosed is my location. Tell no one.

-Flora'

Bucky followed the location she'd told him to another country.

He knocked on the door of her apartment and heard shuffling.

A slightly harsh voice asked, "Were you followed?"

"No," Bucky replied.

"Did you tell anyone the location?"

"You told me not to."

The chain slid to one side and the lock clicked open.

Flora stood there in jeans and a black flowy shirt. She pulled Bucky in and closed the door.

A white, blue-eyed cat walked up to Bucky and Flora picked the cat up.

"Who's the cat?" Bucky asked.

"Alpine," Flora answered. "She's my little friend."

She smiled lightly as she pet the cat. There was the Flora he remembered. Though she clearly wasn't the same, he could tell she was excited about her cat just by the way she looked at the feline in her arms.

Flora stepped closer. "Would you like to pet her?"

Bucky nodded and held his hand out to Alpine who sniffed his hand and gave it a small lick before rubbing her head against his hand.

"She likes you," Flora noted. "That's good."

"Flora, you wanted me to come. How much have you remembered?"

Flora pointed to a small stack of notebooks. "They keep coming and sometimes I cry and smile."

"Can I see them?"

"No!" She stepped back. "Sorry. They're private."

"That was my fault. I'm sorry."

Alpine leapt from Flora's arms and darted away.

"How are you, Flor?" Bucky asked gently.

Flora shrugged. "Okay. I think. I've found a fruit I like, and it helps my memory too."

"Oh yeah? What fruit?"

"Plums. They're all good, but I like the purple ones best."

Bucky stared at her adoringly and smiled. "I'm glad you're getting better, doll."

"Doll," Flora repeated with a furrowed brow. "That's something you called me, right?"

Bucky nodded. "Yeah."

"That's in my notebook for you."

"You have a notebook for me?"

Flora walked over to her notebooks and pulled out a dark blue one. "This blue reminds me of your eyes. Not the same color, but steel blue is hard to find."

"You remember my eye color?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"It's just an interesting thing to remember about someone."

"Hmm. So it is. But I remember."

"That's a start, Flor."

She put the notebook back and grabbed a plum. "Want one? They're ripe."

"Sure. Thank you."

She simply nodded her response.

Bucky studied her as she washed her dishes. She was similar enough, but she was also different. Her responses to his questions and comments were shorter, as though she still wasn't used to speaking. She was on edge. As he stared at her, he could see her tensed shoulders. She reminded him of a cat in her behavior; always wary and suspicious.