That the Science of Cartography Is Limited

Molly remembers the first maps. Blue water next to brown land, the spidery lines of roads, the thick black borders of states, countries, continents. She sits on her mother’s lap, looking at an oversized atlas, watching as her mother’s fingers trace the route of their trip to Sacramento. Her uncle lives there, Molly knows. Her uncle with the big house and the two cats who like her, and Molly can’t wait to go again. So she traces the path along with her mother, her small fingers following the pale pink of interstate highways, the thin blue of local roads. The late afternoon sun casts the pages a deep gold.

Molly knows she isn’t moving. She is still on her mother’s lap, her mother’s arms warm and comforting all around her. But she’s also on the map, in the map, following following following. Her fingers drift off course, ever so slightly, and when she touches the blue line a little ways away from her uncle’s house, she knows that her aunt is there, buying groceries. Molly can’t see her, can’t see her aunt’s knobby knuckles as she places the bags in the backseat of her car, can’t see the laces on her aunt’s shoes as she pushes her cart through the aisles, but Molly knows she’s there. She knows with someplace deep inside herself that she’s never used before.

She closes her eyes and lets her fingers drift until she feels herself getting closer and closer to something, someone. Her fingers press down when she finally gets there. It’s a blank white space on the map, but Molly knows her father is there.

Behind her, her mother sucks in a sharp breath. “Molly?” she asks, her voice soft.

“Daddy’s here,” Molly says, pointing. Her mother has to believe her. She just does.

Her mother just hugs Molly close to her chest. “I’d hoped-- You were always--” she says, not making any sense. She kisses Molly’s cheek, both of Molly’s cheeks. “Of course he is, honey. Of course he is.”

Four years later, Molly asks Mohinder for a map as he does tests on her with his needles and his machines. And Molly likes him a lot because he gives her a brand new roadmap of the United States without asking why. Later, when she’s by herself, she closes her eyes under the cold fluorescent lights and places her fingers over the map, following following following.

But she doesn’t get any closer to finding her parents again.

From Veer.