Yesterday I completely forget about the
Story a Day Challenge. So today I have written for that and managed
to get the number two in there for that challenge as well. I really
enjoyed writing this piece. It took me longer than it should have. I
found that I needed to stop from time to time to collect my thoughts.
I am pleased with how it turned out but also see a potential for it
to be longer and better. Hope you all enjoy it.
Story a Day Challenge – Day 2 and The
1 – 31 Number Challenge
Prompt: other people's memories
As a college student, money gets a
little tight. Okay, it gets a lot tight. So one morning while sitting
in the cafeteria trying to drown out the cacophony around me with the
music on my iPod, I grabbed the newspaper from the table beside me. I
pushed my plate aside, still harboring the yellow foam called eggs,
and spread the paper out to see what it offered as far as part-time
jobs. I sipped my tepid coffee as I glanced the pages, not expecting
to find anything that would be even remotely interesting or
worthwhile.
Someone from my Journalism class taps
me on the shoulder and nods his hello at me as he walks by,
interrupting my peace. Of course I have to look up from the paper to
nod back. It's the proper thing to do even though I can't even recall
the guy's name. When I glance back at the paper, a large ad catches
my eye.
The ad takes up half the page and is in
color. It is printed on a yellowed parchment that has a couple of
holes that look like burns. This is the only thing in the paper that
is colored. “Memories Needed” is printed across the top of the
parchment. Intrigued, I continued to read. “Will pay $100 per
memory. No limit”. An address was penned in at the bottom and
signed in script.
With the size of the ad and that it was
the only thing in color, every person with the paper would be
interested in this. How could they not? I sat there contemplating
about whether to even give it a try. I downed the last of my coffee,
now cold and gross. When I looked back down at the paper, I noticed
something new. The ad contained my name, first and last, scripted in
at the top.
I was a bit spooked to see my name
there, so I folded the paper, tucked it under my arm, and took my
dishes to the kitchen. I threw my dishes in the garbage after
scraping them off at the dish wash area. I bumped into the person in
front of me, and nearly fell down the stairs heading out of the
building.
I could not stop thinking about that
ad. As thought, I walked. I was not aware of anything I was doing
until my music stopped playing. When I looked up, I realized that I
was at the address in the advertisement. I stared looking at the door
of 222 22nd Street Apartment 22. I wiped my clammy hands
on my jeans, debating what to do, when the door creaked open. A
middle-aged man smiled at me. He opened the door wide and motioned
for me to come in. Not knowing what else to do, I went in. What could
it hurt? I certainly needed the money.
“Please come on in, Steven. We've
been expecting you.” The man wore a white lab coat, the kind like a
scientist or doctor might wear. He carried a clipboard cradled in the
crook of his left arm. His eyes jumped back and forth from me to the
clipboard and back again.
“You have?” My voice cracked as I
took a step further into the room.
“Of course,” a new man strolled
into the room from behind the first. “How could we not expect to
see someone at our door today after the advertisement we placed in
the paper? I must admit that I did expect to see more by this time,
but you will do just fine.”
This new man stepped around the one in
the lab coat. He was holding a pipe to his mouth even though it did
not appear to even be lit. The creases in his pants were pressed with
care. His jacket hang to just below his belt. It hung open in the
front showing the pristine care taken when tucking his shirt in to
avoid wrinkles.
“My name is Professor Manford.” He
extended his hand to me. I wiped my hands on my jeans again and
accepted his hand with a tremble that ran to my toes.
“This is Doctor Donnell.” He
motioned to the man in the lab coat. I extended my hand but was not
greeted with a hand to shake. Awkwardly, I drew my hand back and
absently wiped it on the seat of my pants.
“How exactly does this all work,
Professor Manford?” I was glad it didn't all come out in a squeak.
My hands would not stay dry and I could feel sweat starting to bead
on my upper lip.
“Come this way, Steven. We will show
you.” Doctor Donnell leads the way. I follow him in. Professor
Manford comes in behind me, thwarting any thought I may have had to
leave.
The next room is stark white. What
isn't white is either black or metal. My eyes instinctively squint at
the glare. Once I can see without being blinded, I am in awe. Wires
and electronics surround what looks like a dentist chair. I turn back
to the door. Professor Manford smiles down at me and shuts the door
behind him.
“Please, take a seat in the chair.
Everything will be explained as we go.”
“Could you please explain a little
more before I get in that chair?” I managed to stutter audibly
enough for the Professor to actually hear.
“Of course. Once you sit in the
chair, you will close your eyes and think about a memory. Some days
we will ask you to think of something a bit specific. Other days you
can think about any memory that comes to mind. While you are relaxed
with your memory, we will record it and save it in the computer
system. Pretty simple process really. Doesn't take long and you get
$100 for each memory.”
“The money would certainly help. I
just don't know.” I think out loud while scratching my chin with
one hand and wiping the other on my pants yet again.
After several minutes, the Professor
looks at me. “What's the verdict, Steven?”
“Let's do it.” I exclaim heading
for the chair. I slide into the chair with a squeak and get myself
comfortable.
“Lean your head back and just relax.
Doctor Donnell is going to place a helmet, of sorts, on your head.
Once it is on, I want you to think of a loved one that passed away
within the last couple years. Do you have a memory that will work for
this?”
“I do. My granny. She was so amazing.
I loved her so much. She passed away five months ago.”
“We're sorry that she passed so
recently. Will this be too difficult for you?”
“No, I'm good” I manage as I wipe a
stray tear from my eye.
Doctor Donnell fits the helmet snugly
on my head with a strap under my chin. It's snug but not too tight.
He then attaches some kind of electrode things to it in several
places. I try to watch him with my eyes but I just can't roll my eyes
far enough to even get a glance.
Doctor Donnell gives the Professor a
thumbs up. “Ready, Steven?”
“Ready” I say putting forth great
effort not to wipe my hands on my pants.
“Great, now just sit there and think
about your granny. Think about all the things you did together. How
amazing she was. Now, remember how still she was when she passed.
Remember as much as you can about that day. Feel everything you
felt.” He pauses. “Good.” He replies seeing tears run down my
face.
Moments turn into eternity as the tears
stream down my face and neck. I wished I could have my granny back.
“I love you....”
“All done.” Professor Manford
interrupts. My eyes flutter open as he hands me a $100 bill. I
quickly stuff it in my pocket. “You may come back as many times as
you like. I hope to see you again.” He motions me to the door.
Wiping what wet tears are left from my
face, I walk out the door.
When I return to my dorm room, I have a
nagging deep in the pit of my stomach to call home. I wipe my hands
on my pants, waiting for mom to hurry up and answer. Why isn't
she....
“Steven? Are you okay? You never
call. What's going on?”
“I was thinking about granny and
wanted to call. How is she doing? She's still doing well, right?”
Silence roared in my ears. “Mom?”
“Steven, granny passed away five
months ago. Don't you remember?”
