Compartmentalization (Part 13)

Part 13 Loops

I was awake.

I looked around me and I saw I was on a bunk bed. I tried to think back to how I got here, but all I could remember is some song. I take the sheets off me, and bump my head on something. I see that I am actually in a bunk bed, in a concrete room somewhere. Was I taken prisoner? Where am I? It was too dark to really make out anything, so I stumbled out of bed and fell to the floor. I felt sore. Like I had been working out for a while. What am I doing here? I try to feel the red shag rug on the floor and maybe get some bearings of my surroundings and the light comes on.

“Time for breakfast! Josh, you awake?” I heard a voice in the distance.

“Who are you!?” I cried back, trying to seem not as terrified as I was.

“Haha, c’mon Josh, we don’t have time this, we gotta train!” I looked toward the voice and saw a somewhat well built man, in a grey t-shirt and sweatpants. He had short brown hair and a smirk on his face. I tried squinting my eyes, trying to see if I could recognize any of him. My mind was a complete blank and I began to feel very vulnerable.

“Are you, are you my friend?” I said softly, realizing quickly that if he was my jailer, there is no way he would tell the truth. Though, either way, I was at his mercy.

“Of course I am! Josh, are you okay?” the man with brown hair said with a face that betrays any sort of malicious intent. I don’t know if I could trust him, but if his body language meant anything, I think I am the one who was confused here. The man put his hand on my head,

“No fever, the doc said you might have some problems if you get too stressed out. Here, I am going to take you to the breakfast table, you eat, and I’ll call him, okay?” the man said as he took my arm. He seems nice enough, so I followed him.

I am awake

I am sitting at a table with a bowl of cereal. Not entirely sure what I am doing here, but with the spoon in my hand I can only assume I was eating cereal. That’s weird. I am pretty sure that I was unconscious before, maybe I was sleepwalking? Maybe that is something I do? I am not sure. I am not really sure where I am either. It looks like a little kitchen, with pots and pans everywhere. The red curtains with the white bunnies on them flood the room in polka dot light as the sun shines through. I think it’s morning. That would make sense, since I just got up.

“Hey, I called the doctor and he said that you would forget things from time to time, and that is just how you process things, so my name is,” the browned hair man began to say, but I noticed the initials on his shirt, J.S.

“‘Just Spoonin,’ am I right?” I say as I hold up my spoon. I thought it was a pretty funny joke, but he just gets an expression of confusion on his face.

“Josh,” he begins again, “my name is Jordan Steinman, and I am here to help you, okay? The doctor said you need to focus on remembering something if you really want to retain it. Now I really want you to focus, can you do that for me?”

I didn’t know what this guy’s problem was. I just wake up, and he is convinced that I don't remember anything. What a joke. What is there to remember? I just need to figure out where I am and everything will be fine. I wonder how long I have been asleep. It feels like its been years.

“Josh, I…I will be right back okay? Don’t go anywhere,” the man goes out with a concerned face. I don’t know what his problem is.

I am conscious.

I look down and I see a book in my hand. It looks like someone wrote in it. All it says is “I am awake” and the same signature twice. Who would hand me this book? I look up from the book and see a man with short brown hair sitting across from me. I see him picking up a pen.

“Josh, you dropped this,” the man says as he hands me the pen again.

“Uh, who are you?” I ask, for I am pretty sure I had never seen him before.

“We’ve been through this! Twice! Look at the book!” the man yells at me exasperated.

I look at the book and respond, “This is pretty boring, it just says ‘I am awake’”

“That’s all you wrote!”

I look again, and I see the name ‘Josh,’ hey, that's my name! I sign right under the last signature, and I see that they are pretty much exactly the same.

“Wow, you got yourself a great forger here! He copied my signature to a T”

“You can’t be, Josh, JOSH LOOK!” he grabs the book from my hands and points to the signatures, “THEY ARE ALL THE SAME! YOU WROTE ALL OF THESE!”

“That can’t be…” I look at the book and have no recollection of this at all.

“It can be! You just can’t remember!”

“No, I’ve just been asleep, it was all a dream…”

“You’ve been awake! Doctor McNabb says you need to retrain your mind to remember things, so please, just concentrate, concentrate and write whatever comes to your head!”

The man hands me the book again and the pen. I try to think of something, but the only thing that comes to my mind is that I am finally conscious again, so that is what I write, ‘I am conscious’ and sign my name under it.

I am no longer asleep.

I take the sheets off me, and bump my head on something. I see that I am actually in a bunk bed, in a concrete room somewhere. Where was I? Anyway, I am finally going to get out of bed and figure out where I am. I am in some sort of concrete room. The walls seem imposing but the red shag rug seems pretty inviting so I put my feet on it. It is colder than I was expecting, but comfy never the less.

“Josh, we need to go,” I hear a voice coming in from the next room. A man with longish brown hair to his shoulders comes in with a box, “put all your stuff in here.”

“What’s the rush? I just woke up!” I didn’t know who he was, but I could tell by his voice that something serious was happening. I also have to assume since he knows my name, he must know me. Maybe he is my friend? I have no real idea.

“We need to get out of here. Now,” he responds while cleaning up the place.

“I don’t understand, where am I? Who are you?”

“You called somebody, and now this location is compromised. We need to get out of here now. Goddamnit Josh, here!” he grabs the things on the floor, a pen, a journal, some clothes and shoves it in my hands.

“I called somebody? I don’t see how that can be, I’ve been asleep!”

“It must of been before this whole ‘forgetting’ thing happened okay? You called somebody on the outside, and now they are going to link you and me, unless we can get out of here before the inspectors come.”

“Inspectors?”

“From the UWG, Josh, they are after you, and I am not gonna let them have you.”

“Who are they?”

“Haha, aren’t you lucky? Technically I work for them, but taking care of you has been more trouble than I ever thought it was going to be. I have been refusing all their assignments, and now they are going to, arg, why am I even bothering? I am just going to explain it again in another 30 seconds or whatever.”

He grabs my shoulders and we go off to who knows where.

I am finally awake.

I find myself in a wooden cabin somewhere. I am standing grabbing a pen from a whole coffee cup full of pens that are on a wooden table. The cabin isn’t very big, it barely fits the bed, the kitchen, and the table with two chairs, but it is very cozy. I feel at peace here. I grab the pen and sit down to a book in front of me. I open the book, and look through page after page of single sentence entries like, ‘I am awake,’ ‘I am alive,’ ‘I am conscious,’ and after every sentence is the same signature. I find the whole book a little absurd, “I have heard of a dream journal, but a wake up book?” I chuckled to myself. I decide to vandalize whomever this book belongs to and write my own wake-up note. “I am finally awake,” I write, and sign. My signature looks curiously like the others, but I ignore it. I don’t even remember the last time I wrote, or did anything really, so the entries can’t be mine.

The door opens, “Boy, the blueberries are in season, that’s for sure!” I see a brown haired man say as he enters the cabin with a whole basket of blueberries. He looks in shape, black sweatpants, and a grey shirt with the initials ‘J.S.’ on it.

“Want to have an early blueberry dinner Josh?” he asks me. I reluctantly agree. I usually don’t take food from strangers, but I seem to be pretty hungry, and he seems nice enough.

“How you liking the new place?” he asks me, I thin maybe he is confusing me for somebody else, but my name is Josh, so I play along.

“Oh, it is really nice!” I say, “and these blueberries are delicious!”

“Good! The doc says that the loss of your short term memory may be due to some sort of defense mechanism, so you are just going to stay here and be comfortable for as long as it takes!” the man takes my shoulder, “I am here for you Josh!”

I appreciate the sentiment but I have no idea what he is talking about. Now that I am awake, I have no problems at all.

I am really conscious.

“You feel like you are dead?” a sad looking man with longish brown hair across the table says to me.

“What?” I ask. I have no idea what he is talking about but I play along anyway, “Why would I say that?”

“You just said that! You said you wanted to be alone, and that you felt like you are dead inside!”

I don’t remember saying that, but now that he says it, I feel like I have been unconscious all this time, I feel like, for the longest time, I have not been able to feel anything. I feel like I just opened my eyes, and this is what I see- a dark small cabin, a man sitting at a table in front of me, and a book open in front of me filled with pages of variants of  ‘I am awake.’ I feel something wet on my face, and I feel some drops. Is this water? I am not sure.

“Josh, I, I don’t know what to do anymore. I really thought this would work,” the man says as he gets up and stands by the bed, “between work, and taking care of you, I feel like I am being stretched to my limit here. That goddamn doctor is clueless, and I am stuck here with my only remaining friend, and he doesn’t even remember my name!”

I wasn’t sure if he was referring to me or somebody else, but I felt bad for him. He looks like he is really sad.

“Josh, let me promise you now,” the sad man begins to sound angrier, “I will get those responsible for this. How many people’s lives do they have to ruin before they are satisfied? How many times do they get away with murder without having to suffer the consequences? They drain all our blood, sweat, and tears from us, and when they are done with you, they throw you away. That’s what happened to you, Josh, and that is what is going to happen to me.”

I was scared of this man now, I wasn't sure what he was saying.

“Their reach is just so long and it permeates everywhere. I thought by working with them I could change them, maybe even become sympathetic, but all it has done is gotten me closer to the truth; the UWG must burn for what it has done.”

“Uh, sure whatever you say,” I say back to him, and the sad, angry man storms out of the cabin.

I am alive.

It is a grey, cold morning. I find myself waking up in a unfamiliar place. I try to get my bearings and see that I am in a small, cozy cabin. I see a journal on the night stand, and I feel compelled to write in it. Not sure why, I guess it is a routine of mine. How long have I been asleep? What year is this?

A man wonders in he has a black vest on, brown slacks, with longish brown hair, down to his shoulders. The vest has a gold embroidery on it that says “J.S.” “Justice Service?” I think to myself. I have no idea what it could mean.

“Hello Josh, how are you today?” the man tries to sound cheerful, but sounds hollow. Maybe he was just yelling a lot. He scares me a little bit.

“Who are you, if I may ask?” I ask, but really I just want him to go away. There is something in his eyes, like he just saw something terrible.

“Josh, it’s me, your friend, Jordan.” he replies, and gives a smile. I don’t trust this smile. This smile is hiding something from me. I don’t know who he is, and I don’t want to know.

He begins to prepare something in the kitchen, and with his back to me, I see and count ten red smudges near the bottom of his pants. I walk closer and see what they could possibly be.

I get closer, “Josh, c’mon, I am trying to prepare dinner here,” he says, but I look up close to them.

“What are these red spots?” I ask innocently. I don’t like them. There is something wrong here.

“Oh, dear, I forgot to change my pants. Just ignore them. They are nothing.”

I don’t like this. Something is wrong. Something is off. Where am I? Why can’t I remember? I walk over to my journal and look at the entries. Before I die, I want to prove I was alive, if only for a moment. I write “I am alive,” and I await my death.

I am cognizant.

I awake in a white room. I don’t know where I am. I don’t know where I am. Have I gone insane? Is this heaven? Am I in hell?

I feel around, I see a tab on the floor and decide to pull it. The tab is attached to something heavy, and by the time I pull it all the way, a coffee table has flipped over from below the floor. It is like a magic trick. I begin to look all over the room and see there are compartments everywhere. I pull chairs out of walls, I pull hangers out of ceilings, and the more compartments I open, the more wooden and home-y it feels.

A man enters the room. He is a well built man with short brown hair, black sweat pants, and a grey shirt with “J.S.” on it. “Jumping Snakes?” I think to myself.

“Hey Josh, how you liking the new place? I know it’s just a trailer, but I got it modified so at least you got lots of places to put stuff,” he sounds exhausted. I am not sure who this guy is, but there is something oddly familiar about him. I don’t think he is a friend or enemy, he is just someone I used to know. Don’t know him now though.

“I got you this anti-assassin suit too, you know, just in case,” he hands me a dark green spandex suit, I am not sure if he wants me to put in on now, so I just put it down on the coffee table.

“Man, it has been 6 months already. Jeeze. You just came in my life and just swept up everything didn’t you?” there was an edge to his voice I didn’t like, but there was nothing I could really pin my head down. I found myself wondering to a shelf and picking up a pen and a book.

The book was pages and pages of the same message over and over again, “I am awake.” I had an odd compulsion to write the same thing, but I decided I didn’t need to. I don’t need to because I am not in some sort of dream where I need to pinch myself anymore. I am cognizant, and I am going to seize this moment.

“Where am I?” I ask.

“You are in the middle of the desert in a minefield. This used to be an old militia site back when people thought they could overthrow the UWG. Poor bastards.” he answers, “Anyway, you won’t have to worry about moving about anymore, we are here for good.”

I felt reassured, but I wasn’t really sure why. Maybe because I would finally stay awake, that if I could stand still and be aware, hold on to this second, I could stay alive. I could feel again. This black void just threatens to swallow me whole. I hate it. I hate this. But I feel no anger. I have forgotten. But I will not forget. Never again, because if I do,

I am here

I find myself in some baroque room. It feels like something a college professor would use as an office. I find myself in a wooden chair. I don’t know where I am, but I don’t like it. There is something oppressive about the atmosphere. I realise that it is this odd smell, smells like, like a cigar? I look around and see a wooden desk, a well built man behind it smoking a cigar. He is wearing a vest with “J.S.” on it. “Jazz Service” I think to myself.

“Where am I, who are you?” I ask.

“Josh, honestly, I have run out of clever things to say after you ask that every minute or two, so just trust me when I say you are in good company,” he says, “Today, I have got the jackpot, and I brought you here because my next target is someone you might find familiar.”

I doubted it. This stranger seemed to not understand me at all. I have been asleep for so long, that I found his familiarity to be insulting. I didn’t really feel up to running away though, and I had to admit I was curious.

“She is the reason for all your troubles, Josh! One girl ruined your whole life. Can you believe it? Of course you can’t! That is probably why you can’t remember anything in the first place!” he said as he passed me a photo of someone.

I could remember, I can remember everything. Maybe not where I am, or who this guy is, but I remember. I remember that I am Josh, and that I need answers. He passed me the photo and when I looked at it, I got a headache. Something was wrong. Something snapped in my mind.

“I kill her and,” before he could finish I reached over the desk and grabbed the man by the collar.

“If you lay one hand on her Jordan, I swear I’ll,” I wasn’t sure how I was going to end that sentence, but my mind felt like it was stuck in loop, and now it was finally getting free. Something was severed.

I looked at the man I was still holding with all my unknown rage, and I saw that he was welling up with tears, “Josh, you, you finally remembered my name, Josh, it’s a miracle!” he says as I loosen my grip. As soon as I let go, he leaps over the desk and gives me a giant hug.

I am stunned, I am not sure what to think. What have I been doing all this time? What just snapped me out of what felt like infinity? Who was that girl?

All Jordan could do was hug me and repeat over and over that it was going to be okay. My mind was racing. Images that I couldn’t quite understand began to flash in my mind. I could feel the processes in my brain churning, but I didn’t know to what end. I felt this sudden urge of purpose, somewhere in my being I knew what to do. I have to do this. This is my destiny.

Then I hear in the distance, a voice, a shrill female voice, calling out to me. As the office begins to fade, I open my eyes.

I am back in the Chamber club, and I see a girl right up in my face, with large black glasses and a freckly face.

“Josh, are you okay?! Josh talk to me!” the girl says. I don’t know how to react, but my head hurts so much that it is hard to do anything.

“Josh it’s me! A_____!” the girl says again.

“Wait, wait did you say?” I respond, confused, out of my mind.

“Am____!”

“What?”

“Am___a!”

“Oh no,” is all I can think, I feel like jumping out of that frying pan wasn’t such a good idea.

“Josh Stimpleton! Did you forget me? Remember, we had like three dates, and then we became good friends? But I haven’t heard from you in ages!”

“Oh, oh god,” my last name is...

“Haha, oh Josh, you are so silly!”

It was the girl in the picture, it was the girl who started all this, it was the thing I was trying so hard to avoid.

“McNabb?” I test the waters, to see if this was really happening.

“Duh! Amelia McNabb! You silly billy!”