Strange Awakening by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview
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Chapter 12
As Butch had said, the path wasn’t hard to follow. It was useful because I was able to avoid all the un-passable areas.
Some wild rose bushes grew in the area, which have thorns like small razors. Wise hunters used heavily lined pants. I was enjoying the walk when I saw another person 200 feet ahead.
When I got closer I saw it was a guy of about 55, about 5’7” and 140 pounds.
He said; “Do you know this is private property?”
“I’m sorry. I really didn’t think about it.”
When we got ten feet apart he said; “For Christ’s sake.
You’re Ed Jensen. I never saw you here before.”
“I’m glad you know me. I don’t know if I’ve been here before. I woke up with some memory loss a few days ago.”
He looked at me like I was a strange bug for a few seconds.
He then said; “Are you lost?”
“Not in the sense you mean.” When he didn’t laugh, I added; “Not right now, no. I’m walking from Butch’s house to mine, which should be fairly near here.”
“It is. I have my cows on one of your borders.”
“Oh, good. Again, my apologies, I won’t do this again.”
“Don’t worry about it. Butch comes through here regularly.
He thinks I don’t see him.”
I laughed. Then he did. He added; “Well, if you really have memory problems, you probably don’t remember that I owe you a favor. Anyway, a few years ago my cows got out onto your property. I wasn’t home. So my wife went over to your house and you got the cows back where they belong.”
“It’s hard to believe I did that one.”
“Well, you didn’t do it the conventional way.” He paused, then added; “My wife told me at first you said you didn’t know anything about cows. When she told you she didn’t know what to do and her husband wasn’t home, you said you’d try something.
She said you ran right at the cows yelling and they took off running and jumped the fence back to where they belonged.” He laughed, “I wish I’d have seen it.”
“It sounds like I had a really lucky day. That’s nice to know. Right now, boy oh boy.”
“Butch can be a pain in the ass, but he’s really a good guy.”
“Oh no, I didn’t mean that. Something’s going on at the Mason house and I’ve had a few interludes with gun carrying, threatening people.”
He looked at me coldly for a few seconds, then said; “It was probably hunters.”
My instincts told me the best thing to say was; “Yeah, probably. This memory shit is probably upsetting me more than anything else.”
“I can’t imagine what that would be like.”
“It’s weird. I didn’t know things like my name, where I lived, what job I used to do, or anything important. But, I also have some kind of instincts that probably make sense to no one else.”
“Well, if you feel like walking here again, I hope I’m here to say hi. I’ve got to get going on some chores.”
He turned and walked back toward his house. I said “Bye.”
I continued on home, thinking that this guy didn’t want to hear anything bad about the Masons or their property. Butch must be right that they’re hot shit around here. I passed by the cows, getting a full appreciation of their size and my bravery when I charged them. I saw my house and veered left, off the deer path, crossed the bridge over the stream and went inside.
I went to the kitchen and took some hamburgers out of the freezer and put them in the microwave. While they were heating up, I looked around for photo albums. I found two in one of the kitchen closets buried under some house related papers. I put them on the kitchen table and stared out the window into space as the microwave did its work. I was thinking of how Butch
seemed to react to his old photos and hoped I wouldn’t fall in the same category, but was just about sure that I would. What could have led to my current situation? Maybe things were always something like this, for all I knew. I decided that the pictures wouldn’t tell me much, as they are usually taken at happy events and don’t generally convey what anyone was feeling or expecting at the time. I’d have to infer many things that might not be true. The microwave buzzer went off and I took the burgers to the table and poured a glass of ice tea to keep them company. I sat down and bravely opened the books. This was more difficult than yelling at the bum next door. The beginning of the book had a disproportionate number of pictures of my current residence. There were no people, just the house. It must have been a major milestone in our lives. Further on there were lots of pictures of different cats taken here and some other house. I guess they’re all gone, but I’ll later ask Diane that one. Maybe she has them. I started seeing photos of some woman, presumably Diane, as some were taken in unfamiliar locations, but some at this house. I wasn’t in any of them.
One in particular intrigued me. She was sitting on a log by the stream, staring wistfully at something away from the camera. It was not enough of a close up to tell her age, but I’d have to guess around 30. She had long curly brown hair, which appeared blond where the sun directly hit it. She wore a tight white
blouse and blue shorts, her long white legs in full view. There were no leaves on the bushes or trees, so it must have been a warm late winter sunny day. I’d like to have climbed into the picture. I finished the burgers quickly, then brought the phone to the table and called her.
“Diane Jensen, speaking.”
“Hi. You know you’re a great looking girl.”
“And I had to go and marry you.”
“Do you remember a picture of you sitting by the stream?”
“There are probably a few. We took a lot of pictures like that when we first moved to this house.”
“When was that?”
“1983, I think. It was a happy time.”
“I hope you still look and dress like that.”
“What was I wearing?”
“A tight white blouse and blue shorts.”
“Oh, I only dress like that around you and family. I wear other things out here.”
“Too bad you’re not around me now. I also saw a lot of cat pictures. Are they still around somewhere?”
“No. We got them when we lived in the first house. They lived about 16 years and all died around the same time. It was horrible. We said we’d never get another group of the same age.”
“I guess that answers my questions for the day. I’m in a weird mood. I haven’t been thinking about anything practical.
I’d like to remember other times. I’m also wondering what the hell happened to us.”
“Don’t waste your time on that one. The answer is very simple. That goddamn brain tumor of yours was like an explosion and at the same time all the financial considerations turned sour. It was one hell of a two year period. So, with that, I’m going to hang up because I’m at work and have to stay focused on that. Love you, chubby.” She hung up.
I again wondered where this chubby stuff came from.
Neither of us seemed to fit the bill. The full stomach, the wine consumed and my dreamy mindset led me to the couch, where I laid down and slept for a while, dozing off staring at the forest through the window.
When I woke up it was still daylight and I wanted to be outside. I didn’t want to walk by the yellow house again, so I drove the car, intending to go to the reservoir. When I passed the yellow house, there were no cars in the driveway, so I considered the possibility of the lady in black also being at the reservoir. I changed my plans and drove to the town desiring to get to the red mill area again.
I was successful and parked the car on the road adjacent to the property, leaving me with a 2000 foot walk to the mill
itself. There weren’t any people in the immediate vicinity, so I walked along the river enjoying the view in all directions, when, it was beginning to seem inevitably, my day was ruined.
At a distance of 500 feet, I could see her walking toward me. I was sure who it was because of the unchanging outfit. We continued on our set courses and when we got close, I said; “Can I go anywhere without having to see you?”
She answered; “I could say the same thing.”
I got pissed. “You tell me to mind my own business and to leave you alone and then you constantly park your ass right next to me.”
“I come here because I didn’t want to run into you at the reservoir.”
I sighed, recalling that I did precisely the same thing.
She continued; “You know, I’m really starting to get freaked out. We’re giving your nosy ass every chance to remain healthy and you keep pushing your luck.”
I didn’t like the threat, but rather than confront it directly, I said; “Perhaps I’m hopelessly attracted to your deviate outfit. Do you ever change it?”
We crisscrossed and continued to move. She said; “I do believe you like my deviate outfit. A lot of old farts do.
But, I’m going to tell you, one last time, that you are putting your health in serious jeopardy. I’m not kidding.” She stopped
and reversed direction, probably heading back to where her car was parked. She walked fast, brushing by me. I considered tripping her, but decided against it. I didn’t know what to do, so I stood still watching her walk. When she was 30 feet away my annoyance said; “I guess I should be grateful that on this walk I didn’t have fifty bats chasing me around. Only one.”
Though I don’t think she understood the real meaning of the statement, I was sure that she would incorrectly insert her own insulting one and I could see her bristle, but she said nothing.
It looked as if she started to and then stopped. I turned around to get back to my car and since I was in a bad situation, I decided to see how much help the police could be counted on for. To tell them about a weird lady in black would only further their negative opinion of me, so I thought I’d follow up on any progress made on my previous report.
I drove to the station and got to see Sergeant Mobley, who was given my earlier report. I was led to his office, went in and took a seat. He entered a few minutes later saying; “Mr.
Jensen pleased to meet you.”
“Pleased to meet you, Sergeant Mobley.”
“I guess you’re here about that report you filed the other day.”
“Yes.”
“Well you don’t have anything to worry about. I drove by a few times and did not see anything unusual. When someone was outside, I stopped to talk to him. He’s a hunter, who has rented that house off and on for years. I confirmed that with Joe Mason.”
“Did you go inside?”
“I had no warrant.”
“Isn’t threatening someone with a gun some sort of crime?”
Mobley got very firm; “The only evidence of any threat is your say so and quite frankly, your say so doesn’t carry a whole lot of weight around here. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do. What you need to do is find something to do other than spying on your neighbors.”
He got up from his seat and left the room. I considered telling him that if I needed to do anything at all, that he would be the last one to figure out what it was. But, this commentary would probably turn a slightly poor situation into a contentious one. I had completed the purpose of my visit. I was now sure that the police would be absolutely no help.
I drove back home. It was more ominous than usual in the dark. But, my anger kicked in and I said to myself; “Fine, I’ll handle this alone. Any helpers would only fuck up the plan anyway.”
I didn’t want to talk to Diane about my dangerous situation, because, out of concern she would probably give me a lot of advice, which if followed, would result in my doing nothing. But, I wanted to talk to her somehow gently conveying the idea that I’d really like to meet her, but maybe this will be goodbye. I called the appropriate number and got the usual reply;
“Diane Jensen, speaking.”
“Hi Diane Jensen, this is your 3000 mile away husband. Can I have five minutes of your time?”
“Now is a good time. What do you want to know?”
“Nothing in particular. Why don’t you just tell me about yourself for a while?”
“I’m a fantastic person, who is working hard to make the best of things in a difficult situation.”
“That’s what everybody thinks of themselves. Tell me things unique to you.”
“That’s a difficult story to tell in five minutes or less.”
“All right, I’ll be more specific. How do we get along?”
“We’ve been married for 19 years. We’ve gotten along and not gotten along all kinds of ways in that time. Sometimes, I want to kill you. Look at that pen and ink drawing in the main bedroom. I drew it. That’s me wearing that hooded cloak.
Under it I have a knife and I’m on my way to kill you.”
“What made you change your mind?”
“Nothing, really. I was never seriously going to do it, but at certain times the thought crossed my mind. Didn’t you ever think about killing me?”
“No, but I don’t have 19 years of experience with you.”
“I can be stubborn and willful when I feel like it. At times I just make up my mind what’s right for me and the hell with everybody else, including you.”
I liked the answer. It showed honesty and it also sounds a lot like the way I’m feeling now. I didn’t want to say that, however, as the conversation could lead to my current situation.
I said; “Maybe I’m a little like that too.”
“You are. But not as often as me. That’s when I think about killing you.”
“What kind of things did we do when we first met?”
“We spent a lot of our free time in the Village, going to poetry readings, plays and bookstores. We also spent a lot of time at a restaurant in Jersey City, where we lived, called “The Griddle.” It was really funky and we managed to get thrown out of it once.”
“What did we do?”
“We weren’t yet together very long and we couldn’t keep our hands off each other.”
“Ooh, sounds interesting.”
“I found it funny. The Griddle was such a slobby place; I thought we were the only people who were ever asked to leave it.
They didn’t even ask us to pay for the dinners we were served.”
“We must have been really bad.”
“I don’t think so. The manager, just like many people, probably had hang ups.”
“You sound great. We have to have a person to person date soon.”
“I think we’re going to be limited to the phone for a little while.”
“Like phone sex?”
“No. I didn’t mean that. What kind of sex can you have on the phone anyway?”
“I don’t know, but I’ve seen ads for it in the papers.”
Diane laughed, saying; “Believe me; you’re not interested in any of the services.”
“Maybe with you.”
“You’re being very stupid.”
“I knew it. I was just trying to make you laugh.”
“I think your five minutes is up. Please give me your credit card number. You will be charged 69 dollars.”
“Love you, chubby. Don’t stay away forever.
“Love you, chubby.” She hung up.
I got myself some more ice tea and hamburgers, sat in front of the television and jealously watched the happy contestants jump up and down, scream and clap their hands upon winning their weeklong vacation in Florida. I really wished that I could get enthused by things like that and within half an hour fell asleep, dreaming of being someone else. I was a promising young pitcher, entering a major league ballpark for the first time.
What was overwhelmingly obvious was how well it was maintained compared to local parks. There were two decks near the infield and behind home plate. It seated so many, who, one day would come out and watch me show my stuff.