The Re-Rememberings of Bee Bishop

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These rememberings belong first and foremost to me, Bee Bishop. If you can read this and I am alive, you do not have my permission to consume this. If you can read this and I am dead/not born, please obtain permission from the living people in my immediate CareUnit before consuming. Unless it is an emergency, in which case, I consent.

(But if you are Momma, it’s gotta be a real emergency or it doesn’t count!)

Note: My great great great great grandmother wants me to remember her.
Source: her, herself.
Meeting: 8^th? 9^th? 22^nd? (She won’t confirm). 3^rd meeting post-remembering. (PR?)

Pretty sure the first time I met my great great great great grandmother was at the street corner that fell into the sea. She was probably sitting at the edge, asphalt and sand crumbling around her, hair slick with wet and salt, blackblackblack and fuzzy, the way hair used to be. Eyes too bright, red around the edges. (From swimming or tears? She never tells me.) Lips so dry I could see the cracks. The rest of her skin, soft, tootoo soft for all the wrinkles. OldYoung, like a painting of somebody dead. The way people look in dreams, which is how I know/feel it’s a dream. 

I don’t remember the actual first time we met but that’s how she always looks and that’s where we always meet and that’s how I always know/feel. 

And it’s hard, because I know now that we’ve met so many times BR (before remembering). And I think about that sometimes, how we might have gone my whole life, meeting, me forgetting, meeting, me forgetting (like a regular descendant) except now she’s asked me to remember. 

So. 

I’ve decided to start writing things down, just to be safe. I have water by my bedside, like quadruple greatgran told me to and I’m writing (with my hands!) notes earlyearlyearly before Momma gets me up for school. Upside, I’m prepared: Handwritten diaries have always been the only way to keep anything from Momma and Aunkie Jay and I honestly doubt those two would be able to read this on the off chance they found it somehow. 

Which is good because, for now, I am not telling anyone. Quadruple greatgran isn’t very forthcoming on the “why me???” of it all, so there is no way to confirm why it’s happening. She could just be agitated by something random, reaching out to the first person who fell asleep in the family home. 

There might not be a reason why it’s me. There probably isn’t a reason. Anyway. 

Note: Quadruple greatgran did not want to have children. 
Source: her, herself. 
Meeting: 6^th meeting post-remembering. (PR?)

The Nation hasn’t issued a New Law in decades, maybe even a century, but they did today. I think that must be why quadruple greatgran and the rest of the deadfam are antsy. It makes the most sense. 

But quadruple greatgran won’t confirm that that’s why. So, I still can’t tell anyone yet about these rememberings. 

Because if I tell them they are going to assume I’m Transitioning. 

And, I mean, I haven’t even gotten my first blood yet! I just got used to sharing a room with Baby Tash and ze are gonna miss me if I have to move to a new place and Sammie from down the street says Second Transition rituals for womb-bearers are way harder than everyone else’s Second Transition rituals, which isn’t fair and is maybe even sexist! (Sexist is an old word I learned back in history class last year. It’s a type of not fair from back when gender was less fun). And if I was Transitioning for realreals, I’d have to go to a whole new school and start a whole new chore schedule and I don’t want to do all of that if this is just a mistake! 

And yeah, I know it’s dangerous. If I am Transitioning it’s practically suicidal not to tell anyone, especially with a Second Transition, especiallyespecially with a possi-Gift like deadspeaking. And if my calling is something big? If I’m, like, a TruthKeeper or something? 

But also, also, also, it might be a one-off. It’s not abnormal for spirits to become more talkative when the world shifts. 

So, for now, I’m just gonna write it all down and keep it all secret. Sammie from down the street used to make fun of me for taking handwriting because hir thought it was a stupid elective, but that’s because hir don’t got no imagination. Sure, singspeaking whale seems cooler than learning to write with your hands, but handwriting is way better code because almost everybody can speak a little bit of whale but almost nobody even wants to write with their hands anymore. Old stuff is super useful, especially when it comes to secrets. 

And it makes sense to keep this secret or at least I think so. Quadruple greatgran doesn’t approve, but she promised not to warn Momma or Aunkie Jay that I’m lying to them. Just muttered “this is why I didn’t want children” and turned into sea foam before letting me wake up. 

It was a supesdrama exit, but maybe deadfam are just like that, dramatic without even trying. 

And yes, Momma will skin me alive if she finds out that I hid a Transition from her. But I really don’t think that’s what this is. And even if I’m wrong, then at least this will be a record, so if I die, Caretakers can still learn from me. And that’s the most important thing anyway. 

So. 

For now, it will stay a secret. For now. 

Note: There are others who want to talk to me, but they don’t wanna overwhelm me. 
Source: quadruple greatgran, but also the sea. 
Time: 10^th meeting PR.

I don’t think quadruple greatgran is just quadruple greatgran. I think she might be a bit of the sea from way back when, and some earth too (groundearth, not bodyearth). She might be a bit of other deadfam members as well, cause I know they don’t always stay separateseparate on that side of the veil. But it’s weird, cause she looks weird you know? She looks pre-Unionification human, nothing of the earth visibly on/in her. No roots for toes, no seashells for fingernails. And her hair! It’s just so strange. 

I once read that backback when, hair was made of dead human skin cells (ew) and that’s why humans in those days were so disconnected from everything, cause their heads could only grow dead them. That’s what quadruple greatgran’s hair looks like, like how hair looked when it was just dead bodystuff growing out of people’s head instead of a living reminder that we are only one tiny part of a larger organism. 

And yeah, I guess my hair is weird too because gold is weird because technically it’s not of the earth, it’s like spacestuff that got trapped on Earth, but it’s part of Earth now and it was part of Earth when we Transformed so it’s part of me and like 2% of the population and sure that’s super rare but its way more normal than dead skin. 

It’s much better our way, heads growing things from the earth, like flowers and leaves and granite andandand. Not, that we had much choice. If we had stayed the way we were, the Earth would have totally gotten rid of us. I mean it was already trying to and for good reason! We had to become more of it so we could survive all the ways it was constantly changing, adapt the way it adapted so it couldn’t out-adapt us altogether. Or at least, that’s what the Firster teachers say. It’s been forever since The Unionfication so the whys of it are all vague and legendy. But I think there must be some truth to the stories, because we don’t suffer through The Horribles like inverted seasons and unnatural storms anymore. After the Unionfication and the first laws of The Nation were passed, real healing started to happen, and we’ve been healing ever since. And you can see that healing, just by looking at your fellow human, watching how they are not one thing but lots of things. 

Which is to say, quadruple greatgran looks weird, like back when humans had tricked themselves into thinking they were “individuals,” but she feels normal, like she’s lots of stuff all rolled into one. But it’s not normal stuff, it’s spirit stuff, so yeah, she feels more normal than she looks but not quitequite normal, you know? 

My point is I don’t know what she’s made of. And I’m pretty sure when you deadspeak, it’s like a cardinal rule to know all of who you’re speaking to. But I don’t know how you figure that out and deadspeaking practicum books are practically forbidden to Firsters like me. Under normal circumstances, I would just trick Sammie from down the street to get me a book from hir school library, since what’s the point of them becoming a Seconder before me if they’re not gonna at least sneak me books, but ever since they Transitioned they’ve been kinda “I’m so mature” about everything, which means they could end up asking too many questions which means they could end up blabbing which means I could get caught. 

So, I just have to trust quadruple greatgran is mostly who she says she is. And usually that’s fine but sometimes it’s less fine. 

Like, before I left today, the sea crashed real conversationlike and she had to shush it. Only then did she admit that other deadfam want to tell me things, but they can’t because I’m too little and they can’t risk overwhelming me. 

I wanted to say “I’m already kindabit overwhelmed” but I’m pretty sure she knows that. 

No first blood, no boobs, no hair in new places, no MoodSwings, no zipzaps in my tummy, nothing that would serve as a clear sign that this is a Transition. My body is still firmly in Firster territory, and yet here she is, every night, with her weirdweird hair and dry lips, talking circles at me. 

Is it silly to say I’m tired? 

Note: Quadruple greatgran was not an enslaved person. 
Source: her, herself. 
Time: 18^th meeting PR.

Quadruple greatgran don’t often talk in sentences, just mostly in stories. (This is typical of ancestors, I know, but still weird to experience). Tonight, she told me about sirens. I knew a little already, how they are like mermaids but mean? But she told the story different from how our mythology books talk about them. 

For one her sirens didn’t live in the oldold myth places like the seas in the Odyssey. They lived on the coast of one of the newold places, the ones from real history but pre Unionfication, back when the world had things like “countries” and “states” instead of RegionGroups and CareUnits. Quadruple greatgran’s sirens lived in the ocean next to a “continent” called “Africa.” 

She said there were people, regular people, who were born, stolen from their homes in the bright of day and told they weren’t people anymore. They were locked away, first in cages, then on ships, and some of them got soso sadscared they jumped overboard. But the sharks took pity on them, ripping their throats open so they could relearn how to breathe underwater, since most humans didn’t have gills during that era. And so, the stolen/now unstolen people became the first to remember how to choose to become something different in the face of being forced to become something different. From then on, every time a ship would pass by, carrying the unstolen peoples’ relatives, the sirens would sing to them how to transform themselves, and the ones who could hear would jump, opening themselves to the sharks, the ocean, and a new way of being. 

I asked quadruple greatgran if she was one of the unstolen people who became a siren and she laughed at me. Apparently, she isn’t that old. 

Of course, first thing I did when I woke up was try to find a story that matched her story, just so I could understand it better, but the closest I could find on The Wide Web was an oldold book about something called The Transatlantic Slave Trade. I only read like a few pages and it was really depressing. Plus, according to the book, the people who jumped overboard didn’t become sirens. Of course, the book is oldold, from back when history was mostly made up and not in a good way. 

So, I’d rather believe quadruple greatgran. 

True or oppositetrue though, I know enough about ancestral cross-realm communication to know that all stories are important. But I still don’t know why she’s telling me. Like, I just keep thinking “why me?” over and over and over. While I’m at school, while I’m at the farm, while I’m re-purifying the homewater, during the pledge to the Earth ceremony, just constantly “why me why me why me.” Cause I’m like the worst age for this, for realreal. I’m not 2, like Tash, so I can’t just do any of this on instinct, and I’m not old, like gran, so I can’t rely on being an elder. I’m only 11. I should be getting pinpricks of possi-Gift, maybe some cramps to go with it, not full-out deadspeaking! 

But there has to be a reason. Deadfam don’t reach out to anyone for no reason, specially not longdeads like quadruple greatgran. 

So. Hypotheses! 

1: The New Law. 

As I noted earlier in these rememberings, one of the most probable causes for all this deadspeaking is The New Law that was passed by The Nation a little while ago. Thing is, it’s a big thing but it’s not a big thing. It’s a big thing because The Nation hardly ever bothers to make new laws anymore, not since the early days of the Unionfication. Most governing is left to the RegionGroups, most everything else left to CareUnits. So, the fact that they bothered to make a law at all is a big thing. 

But the law itself is not a big thing. All we gotta do is give a yearly tribute of bodyearth to The Nation for the global Unionfication ceremony, to show our dedication to the Earth and to a Unified Humanity. Worst case scenario, I have to cut my hair more often because my CareUnit is def gonna wanna include pure gold in the tribute. And yeah, life will probably be more annoying for a bit, like back when our RegionGroup re-allowed bodyearth to be used as trading materials and everyone was trying to steal my hair all the time. But this won’t really be like that at all because it will only be once a year. And it’s a ritual, which deadfam usually love. And quadruple greatgran hasn’t mentioned the law at all. 

Still. 

2: The deadfam have marked me as a TruthKeeper. 

Which is unfair, to be honest. I’m not the only person who has ever been born in time to lead A Final Transition ceremony. I mean, I can’t deny that it’s pretty rare, especially in my CareUnit where natural birth is still a thing. Add to that that great greatgran was blessed with dementia before she passed, so she was not only a RealmCrosser but also a TimeCrosser at the point of her Final Transition, which means I was exposed to veil and time travel during the first few months of my life. Add to that my hair. So, I mean, yeah, it wouldn’t be the first time someone assumed I was a TruthKeeper. BUT. BUT. BUT. Until my Second Transition truly arrives, nothing is for certain. I could end up having a regular zegular degular gift like storm-sensing or deep empathy. And I mean honestly, what I would give to be a normal old empath instead of a TruthKeeper. Just the THOUGHT of the coursework I’ll have to endure if I end up training under Aunkie Zel? They’re the only Truthkeeper for miles and they’re LEGENDARY at the Seconder school for being supersuper scary and kindasorta harsh. I’ve only seen her once, afterduring my First Transition when I was like 3, but I still remember her eyes, all darkdarkdark and deepdeep. And when he deadspoke? His voice was all two-toned and vibratey in my guts. And would it be cool to be able to talk like that? I mean sure, but not cool enough for all the work I gotta do. And besides, even if deadspeaking ends up being one of my gifts and even if TruthKeeping ends up being my calling, none of that is known yet. Predetermined aptitude doesn’t make me qualified for this. I mean, my bones might remember those finalfirst days with great great grandma, but my mind doesn’t! I’m as unknowledgeable as anyone else and until I’m trained, no one should be marking me as anything, just to be safe. 

3: I am Transitioning. 

Except I’m not.
I’m not.
I’m not I’m not I’m not because I don’t want to. I like this body and this house and my school and place in life and I’m not ready for all that to change yet. I already lost Sammie from down the street to a stupid Transition, I’m not gonna lose everyone else. 

Note: My great great great great grandmother survived one of the Major apocalypses!
Source: her, herself. 
Meeting: 27^th meeting PR.

WHOA WHOA WHOA SO GUESS WHO KNOWS WHAT TIME PERIOD QUADRUPLE GREATGRAN IS FROM? 

(It’s me.) 

So, I don’t know if it even counts as a real win because it was kinda Oh Duh-ish. But STILL. 

So, she was telling me about the sirens again (most of her stories are about sirens actually) but this time they weren’t in “Africa” they were in a place called “New Orleans.” Now I know about New Orleans because it being swallowed by the ocean was one of The Great Horribles that led to the Unionfication. (It was rebuilt later and is one of the more famous CareUnits now cause its rituals are oldold). But quadruple greatgran was talking about when it was a still old New Orleans. She said that it was a slipslider spot, somewhere where so many people lived and breathed and were with each other, nothing was too definite, nothing was one thing. And in this place, there were storms, reminders even their big strong buildings weren’t meant to be forever. But there was one storm, one badbad storm that destroyed soooo much. She came in hard and wreaked so much havoc. But she was a storm, nobody could blame her for doing what it was in her nature to do. What made it badbad was after. After, the people of New Orleans were surrounded by a Big Change and instead of their “government” helping them Transition, they abandoned them. Left them to suffer all alone. 

So, the sirens came. Collected them from where they were drowning and sang them how to be different. Taught them how to live different when the people they trusted left them to die. 

I asked her if she was one of those sirens, the ones who transformed during the storm and she said no, but she could have been. EasyEasy. She could have been. 

Now, there are a lot of storms that hit New Orleans back when it was New Orleans, but the one that comes up most in the archives is the one named Katrina. So, I think quadruple greatgran must be from around then. Which means, she saw at least some of The Great Horribles. 

Which means, if she’s scared of whatever’s coming … it’s gotta be bad. 

Note: Why Tributes All of the Sudden? 
Source: my brain.
Meeting: 28^th meeting.

I was sitting in class today when it hit me: The Nation hasn’t issued a law in so many years and when they finally decree something it’s not even a real law. It’s some weird decree demanding people’s bodyearth. Why? CareUnits usually are the ones dabbling in ritual. Why all of a sudden would there be a whole law for something that seems mostly for show? And bodyearth? Why not groundearth? Why not crafted pieces? Why not words or thoughts or prayers? Why our bodies? 

The Unionfication Ceremony has never been drama. It’s always just been a day to not work and say the pledge to the Earth together. Now, it’s gonna be a whole thing. A realreal Ceremony. With bodyearth. The more I think about it, the weirder it is. Since when do they need people to give parts of their bodies for anything, much less a day most people just use as an excuse to over-eat? 

I asked quadruple greatgran why she thinks they passed the New Law. The sea got wayway rocky, the sky dark, and her eyes scaryscaryscary. She answered me by telling a story, about a kingdom, that believed time would stop if they didn’t eat the hearts of their enemies. So, they killed all these people, terrified that if they didn’t, all they knew would cease to be anymore. 

I don’t know what kinda answer that is. I woke up with my teeth grinding. And I’m a tinybit mad cause it took me forever to kick that habit the first time. If it starts up again, Momma’s gonna have a fit. 

Note: The deadfam think a Change is coming. 
Source: great great great great grandma and also my stomach. 
Meeting: 33 meetings PR. 

Tonight, quadruple greatgran asked me to tell her a story. She didn’t give me any time to prepare, which I think is mean, but she doesn’t super care what I think. So. 

I told her about Tash being born. I was the youngest, so I co-led the First Transition/birthing process with the doula. I sang to the baby when it was coming into being in Momma’s uterus. I told them all about Momma and Aunkie Jay and Daddy (even though I knew the baby would never meet Daddy) and about our CareUnit and about how much they were gonna love it here. I would help make Momma weird food for her cravings and massage her feet and dance softly with the palms of my hands on her stomach, so the baby would learn dancing early. And sometimes I would just sit, head in Momma’s lap, whispering “It’s gonna be ok” over and over and over. Because I knew how scary Transitions were. How dangerous and hard. How you can’t do anything about them coming. But I knew if the baby, if Tash, could survive this? Their first Transition? I would be there for all the others. They would have me and a whole bunch of other people, waiting to support them. We would be like the sirens, guiding them to this new strange place filled with people who already loved them, who were excited to meet them, who were patient and caring and ready to teach them how to breathe different, how to become something they would have never imagined they could become. 

And when Tash came into the world, they cried, loud wailing that only babies get away with. And I helped washed them off, and kissed their tiny face, and sang to them again. And they remembered my voice. They remembered. 

Qudruple greatgran smiled after I finished. It’s the first time she’s ever smiled at me, I think. 

I don’t know how I feel about it. 

Note: I’m scared.
Source: me, myself.
Meeting: 43 meetings PR.

Whatever this is, it’s got to be more than just me Transitioning. It’s like, I can feel it, something big, something coming that can’t be stopped. Something where maybe everyone is gonna have to learn how to breathe different. 

I’m scared. Scared I won’t be able to learn how to be different fast enough or good enough or or or.

So, I’ve decided to tell Momma and Aunkie Jay what’s been happening with me. Quadruple greatgran approves. Which is good, I guess. But I’m nervous about it. Momma can be … Momma. 

But … I don’t think this is something I can do alone. And I don’t think I’m meant to. 

Quadruple greatgran with her dry lips and weird hair isn’t alone. I can tell, out on the sea, that she’s got people to be with. Sirens maybe? 

So, I’m going to tell Momma. And she’s gonna tell everyone else. And whatever’s coming, we will become whatever we need to become to survive it. 

We’ll have to.

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