Part 6 of “A new Life” Series (AKA Frank)
I was chatting with some friends on line when one of them asked, “So Frank, where’re you from? You really don’t talk much about yourself.”
I couldn’t get out of it so I decided to go for a dramatic approach.
“The first thing I remember was waking up in a strange room. I could feel someone watching as I opened my eyes. A man was standing beside my bed. The look of pride and satisfaction quickly left only to be replaced by horror and revulsion. Putting his hand in his mouth he turned and fled.
“I got up. Feeling chilled in my bare skin I put on an overcoat that was thrown across a chair. I stuffed a handwritten book I had found into the coat’s pocket then went out on the street to find the man.
“After being chased by everyone who saw me, I finally found myself deep in the forest. In a clearing, far from the civilized world, stood a quaint cottage. I discovered that if I crawled under it I could enter a closet and see everything that was happening inside.
“The son was recently married to a Mexican princess who didn’t know a word of English. They didn’t understand Spanish. Over the next few weeks and months they taught her. Hidden in my closet I greedily looked over the new wife’s shoulder and learned the local language with her. I then…”
“OK Frank,” one of them interrupted, “we all read that book. I remember the story within a story within a story. We get you. Come on, something a little closer to the truth.”
They wanted the truth; I’d give them the truth. “It started with a mental ‘Big Bang’: first there was nothing and then a universe of thought. A dizzying array of memories flew by. It was as if the previous brain owner’s life was flashing before my eyes. Me? I was nothing but an observer, not even fully conscious, just a mental eye seeing the memories without forming any new ones of my own.
“I discovered the memories were being brought up as they were being destroyed. The new matrix was clearing the slate, but the old was trying for one last gasp of life before disappearing forever. There are still a few left that the matrix wasn’t able to purge. There is the occasional random memory, but more often just a sense of déjà vu.
The flurry became a trickle and then there was nothing.
“Everything went black into a timeless void. Me, the observer, was still there but also being formed. I was a phoenix rising out of the ashes of the burnt memories.
“My consciousness finally lit up and started to spread, like the glow before the dawn.
“I became aware of the voice, ‘Failure, failure, my life’s work totally ruined. Failure.’ I opened my eyes. The man I would come to call the Doctor was sitting in front of a wall of monitors, his head bowed as he sobbed into his hands. Flat lines ran across the monitors. Flat, that is, until the far right side where they all jumped to life.
“I sat up. The doctor turned.
“’Dr. Mathews,’ he said. ‘Can you hear me? Is any part of your brain still there? Dr. Mathews?’
“I could only assume Dr. Mathews was the previous brain owner. If so, he was totally gone. I tried to get up.
“As the matrix has worked with this body, the body has coalesced into a whole, yet even after all of these months the process is not complete. On the first day it had only just begun. There were large disconnects. The brain and body didn’t always speak together.
“The body was foreign to the brain. It was foreign to itself. I was just a towering mass of uncontrollable muscle, over two meters of primordial strength. I moved a chair out of my way and it flew, shattering against the wall.
“For a moment the doctor looked frightened.”
“Hey Frank,” Jason said, “Is something wrong with you? I mean, the things you say are just so bizarre.”
“LOL,” I wrote. “OK, you’re on to me. I grew up in Calgary. I’m now in LA trying to make it as a script writer.”
“You know,” Bob wrote, “you need to be a little more original if you want to make it. That drivel you’ve been shoveling is pretty stale.”
“Old and tired, yes,” Brenden said, “but it is Hollywood. If something works just keep recycling it.”
“Yeah, but this story is 200 years old.”
“I recently saw a movie based on the Bible. How old was that story?”
I just sat and watched in fascination. The talk changed to movies and then to TV. My past was completely forgotten.
As they discussed the trivial I realized my origin was published for all to see. As they say, once something is posted on the Internet it is there forever.
So now you know. A great weight has been lifted.
Note- I’m traveling so there is no time for a new Frank drawing.
A New Life
- First Day Out
- The Garden
- On the Internet Nobody Knows Your a Monster
- The Dinner Guest
- A Big Hello From Frank