Wednesday, November 7, 2007


“Ahh, here you go, m'boy!” Joe said to me as he set me down carefully in one of the chairs around the kitchen table. “Here you go, pancakes, along with some bacon and eggs!” he said to me, grinning. He turned around and went back towards the counter. “Would you like any coffee, m'boy? I'm going to be brewing some,” he said to me.

“No thank you,” I said to him. I looked at Joe. He was a heavy-set sort of man, but you'd never call him fat. No, there was something about it. A sense of strength and power. But at the same time, all you could see was pure joy. It was almost like watching a man who had the rare opportunity of being purified.

Joe sat down quickly in front of his food, and moved his hand in a crossing motion, then bowed his head. I assume he was saying grace. Something about that seems familiar...

“So, how's the food?” Joe asked me. I looked down at my food. I had forgotten to touch it. “Ahh, that's okay,” he said, “it's understandable if you're not hungry,” he said.

“No, I'm starving,” I said to him, “I just went off into space, that's all.”

“Possibly remembering something, already?” Joe replied.

“No...” I wasn't sure what to say. Silence filled the room. An awkward silence grew between us. I had to say something. “ where am I?” I said to him.

Joe smiled. “Ahh, m'boy,” he said to me, “you would be on the outskirts of Heatherwood,” he said to me. “It's probably one of the smaller towns in the county.” He continued, “There's only about two-thousand people who live here, and most live in the town,” he said to me. “Then there are others, like myself, who prefer the solitude one can find out here.”

“Do you ever go into the town?” I asked. I realized that was a redundant question right afterwards. I put some pancakes in my mouth so that I could shut up.

But Joe replied anyways. “Yep!” he said, “I go into the town all the time, whether it's buying or selling crops and animals, spending a night with some of the otha' fellas, or going to St. Francis of Assisi on Sunday! I visit the town all the time, but I would never live there,” he said to me.

“I see...” I replied, as I took another bite of my pancakes. Something about St. Francis...

“Are you Catholic?” I asked him.

“Oh, yes! I should have explained. Yes, I was raised Cath'lic by me mum, and when I moved out here, I was able to find a really small Cath'lic church called St. Francis of Assisi, so it's where I've been going,” he said to me.

“Okay then,” I quietly replied. Something seemed to stir inside of me, a disturbance which suddenly altered the illusion I am trapped in...

I'm in what seems to be a child's bedroom. Toys are lying all over the floor, from building blocks, to action figures, to video games. Articles of clothing were hanging on the bed posts. All in all, a typical child's room. But everything seemed higher than it should bed. I was only slightly taller than the height of the bed. I looked at my hands. They were small and soft. Then I realized – I must be the child. He sees what I see. He hears what I hear.

However, what he's hearing is yelling from downstairs. I slowly sneak out of my room and walk towards the stairs. Two people seem to be fighting – a man and a woman. They're yelling about something, but I cannot make out what they're saying. But what happened next resonated with me. As the yelling seemed to come to the climax, they both then stopped and stood silently.

Then the man hit the woman hard, and she came crashing to the ground. He walked over to a vase sitting nearby and knocked it over, causing it to crash into millions of pieces. Then he grabbed his coat and walked out the door.

The woman laid on the ground weeping for some minutes. Slowly, she proceeded to get up, and I stepped back a step, to make sure I'm not seen. She walks over to a drawer and pulls out what looks like a Rosary. She moves over to an image of the crucifix on the wall and slowly gets down on her knees. She then makes the Sign of the Cross and starts to pray, weeping softly.

....My eyes open slowly, only to meet up with Joe's.

“Are you okay?...” Joe asked me. I wasn't sure what to tell him. I can't tell him what I just saw. Who knows if it was even real?

“I think it was a memory,” I said to him, “One from my childhood.” I decided not to say anymore, and figured that would satisfy him. Joe continued to look into my eyes as if he were searching for something, then smiled.

“Well that's great news, then!” Joe exclaimed. “This means it must be temporary amnesia, and you'll be back to normal in no time!” He then picked up all the plates on the table and washed them out. After he finished washing them he said, “I'll be heading to town today, so you can just stay here and have some fun. There's lots of things for you to do here. Okay?”

“Okay...” I replied.

“Alrighty then, well I'm goin' to get cleaned up, and head out. Hope your memory comes to ya', m'boy!” And with that Joe went off to get ready.

I stood there alone in the kitchen, with one question on my mind
– Do I want my memory to come back?...

* * *

Monday, November 5, 2007


The sunlight poured into my eyes as they slowly creaked open. It was morning, apparently. I found myself looking up at a grayish-white ceiling. My head seemed to be cushioned by something. I turned my head to discover it was a pillow. I was in a bed. But why? How did I end up here?

“Am heaven?” I said to myself. “ I somehow just alive?”

“I would say the latter, though the former is a pretty good thing as well,” An unknown, rugged voice spoke. I jumped up in the bed, the sheets tossed off to the side. I did not realize I wasn't alone. I turned to see where the voice came from. It was a big, burly man, with his head covered by his dark beard. From a distance, he's not the man you'd want to deal with. But when I looked at his eyes, they held a brilliant blue that revealed his character. His goofy smile also comforted me, and told me that he was someone to be trusted.

“Ah, I see you've still got some energy in ya,” the man said to me.

“Yeah, I guess so...” I replied to him. “I...ow!” There was a piercing pain in my side. I realized that my shirt was ripped and that my side was tightly bandaged. There were dried splotches of blood all over it.

“I'm sorry about that, m'boy,” the man said to me. “The doctor had to work fast, or the results may have been disastrous.” My mind went blank. What was he talking about? I put all the effort I could into remembering, but nothing seemed to arise from the blankness of my mind. Only one image stood out, and that was a cold, dark, and translucent body surrounding me. Streams of light seemed to be fading off into the depths below, and creatures whooshed around me. I was in water. Was I drowning?...

I opened my eyes. The man looked at me with concern, then as sure as he thought I was okay, he smiled.

“You got into a nasty accident, last night, if you can remember,” he said. “It was late, and I was in my library reading a passage from the Bible, when I head a sudden screeching noise outside my window. I looked out to see your car diving headfirst into the lake. I rushed out as quickly as I could and dived in to see if I could get to you. Luckily, the window was open and I was able to pull you out. Your car, however...” He looked towards the lake. “It's sunk,” he said to me. “But don't worry, we'll get a towing crew out in a few days, and it'll all be great...oh I've been so inconsiderate!” He let out a hearty laugh. “I never asked for your name. My name is Joseph, but you can just call me Joe!” He smiled and gave a peculiar wink.

I wasn't sure what to say next, considering the situation. “Well Joe,” I said to him, “It's nice to meet you, I'm...” I tried to tell him my name, but in my mind there was nothing but emptiness.

“I...don't know my name...” I said to him. Joe's smile turned serious as he stared into my eyes. He knew I wasn't joking.

“Do you remember anything, son...” Joe whispered to me. I tried to recall, but all I could remember was part of what happened in the lake. I then proceeded to tell him that.

“Looks like amnesia, most likely from the accident,” he said to me.

“No!” I exclaimed, “I can't have amnesia, can I?”

“I'm afraid you might, at least temporarily,” Joe replied. “And unfortunately all the information that might tell us who you are is at the bottom of the lake. Information, insurance, credit cards, driver's license...I'm assuming all of this is there because I couldn't find your wallet on your person.” Joe sighed. “Once the towing crew shows up, maybe we'll be able to get you some information...” But then his mouth then suddenly changed into a grin. “But until we get that, you might as well have some breakfast! I'm going to make some pancakes,” he said. “Now you just wait here a few minutes while I cook it up, and I'll let you know when it's ready.” He then walked out of the room, and I sat there alone.

“That was overwhelming...” I said to myself. I chuckled. Joe seems like a friendly guy. I looked around the room. It was rather empty, so I assume it is the guest room. The only object that stood out was a single crucifix on the opposite side of the room. Though I wanted to get out of bed, I could not help but stare at it. Something seemed to resonate in me...

“Hey, it's breakfast time!” Joe exclaimed as he walked into the room. He put his arm around me, then slowly helped me up. “Is this hurting you, m'boy?” he said to me.

I looked back at the crucifix one more time, then I looked at Joe's face.

“No, I'm fine,” I said.

* * *


I am just going to say this straight up – I don't know where I am going. I don't really know where I am. The only thoughts which seem to register in my mind is that my hands are on the steering wheel, my foot is on the pedal, and I am wandering down an unknown highway. But I know why I'm here.

However, before I have any more time to think, my cell phone rings. I wondered if I should answer it. The ring had a haunting aura to it. I kept my eyes on the road while the ringing continues to pierce my ears. After a minute, it eventually stopped, and a peaceful silence filled the car again. My eyes kept looking back at the phone, however. I sighed.

When I found a good stretch of gravel to pull over onto, I stopped the car and picked up my phone. There was one voicemail. My right thumb hovered over the call button, and I was filled with hesitance. But I knew there was no way to avoid it, so I listened to the message.

The voice I head was my mother's. I knew it would be her. Her small voice came through the tiny speakers of the phone:

“Sweetie...sweetie, this is your mom. I was just wondering where you were. You haven't responded to any of my letters or my calls. I'm so worried about you...your father is extremely angry at you. He doesn't even know I'm leaving this message, but I just wanted to know...why? Why did you drop out of college? You had so much going for you...full scholarships at a great were set. Why do you just want to throw it all aw- I need to go, your father's near. I love you.” The message ended.

“I'm sorry, mom...” I muttered, “...I...just can't take this anymore...I don't mean to sound whiny...I just need to get away for a bit...” I looked up at the St. Christopher visor clip my mom had put in my car. I found myself silently staring at it for a few minutes.

“You're the patron saint of travelers, right?...” I said. “Then say a prayer, will ya?...I think I'm going to be traveling for a while.” I then turned the ignition key violently and sped off.

* * *