The Other Side

He was happy in this place for now, but he knew instinctively that he didn't belong there at all. He had to find out where he belonged - where he was from. And he had a funny feeling it would be a while before he found that place and got his memory back.

Somewhere in the back of his mind a little lingering voice was saying "why don't you stay for a while?" It did seem rather logical of a choice simply because he'd be financially secure for a bit and he knew he could fit in here.

But at the same time he thought that he didn't belong there. and fitting in and belonging were two different things. He belonged elsewhere. And until he figured out where, he knew that he would have something missing from him. Something important. And he would not be whole until it was back.

Monday morning came soon enough and Paul arrived at the store at his usual time. Della was there already, having arrived early to set up a little.

Paul began the day as he normally would. He hung his coat in the back and put some money into the register. He made sure every thing in the store was set and then unlocked the door. While he waited for the customers to come, he dusted off the instruments and set them up nice and neatly.

Della's first lesson wasn't set until eleven that morning so she came out to talk to him after she'd set up in the back. She stood behind the counter, leaning over the side and watched him as he finished cleaning the store.

"Good morning," she greeted, since he was so involved in what he was doing he didn't notice her.

Paul turned and smiled. "Morning," he replied.

"Do any thinking about what I asked you?" she asked him.

"About taking the store?" he asked. She nodded. "Yep. A lot of thinking actually."

"Come to any conclusions?" she asked in as casual a voice as she could muster.

Paul set aside his dust cloth and was about to answer when suddenly a customer entered. He was busy then with a steady stream of customers until noon.

Around twelve o'clock the place got quiet again. Della finished her latest music lesson and sat down with him to eat lunch. Chris brought over some sandwhiches for them everyday from the deli.

Chris lingered around to chat for a while and then Della brought up the question again.

"Did you think at all about what I asked?" she asked him.

"What'd you ask?" Chris asked, as he had no clue.

"I asked Paul if he'd consider taking the store," Della replied. She explained the situation to Chris. Paul watched but he didn't listen. He was just watching, suddenly feeling as if he wasn't involved in the scene at all.

Della wore a dark blue and purple dress - one of the best colors on her, and her thin figure showed it off well. Paul had thought many times before that she was beautiful, and now was no different.

He was in the midst of admiring her dark wavy hair as it cascaded down from the top of her head to the middle of her back. At the funeral she had tied it up in a bun, hiding it from the world, but now it was free and open again, and he thought it looked better that way.

"Paul?" Chris asked then, suddenly bringing him out of his trance. He looked up and saw that both of them were staring at him.

"Sorry," he apologized. "I was just thinking."

"Looked more like daydreaming," Chris commented, but dropped the subject.

"Think any more about what I asked?" Della asked for the third time that day.

Paul nodded. "Yes, actually," he replied. "But I don't know yet. I mean I like it here and everything, but I don't think I'll stay."

Christopher looked a little surprised. "Why not?" he asked.

Paul shrugged. "I don't know," he confessed. "I just feel like I have to figure out where I belong. And I like it here, but I don't feel like I belong. I have to find where I come from."

Chris and Della looked at each other. Apparently the subject of Paul's amnesia had been a topic of conversation previously, and both had thoughts on the matter.

"Are you sure you want to?" Chris asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Maybe the reason you got amnesia had something to do with where you come from," Chris speculated. "Maybe the people you thought you trusted are what caused it."

Paul was taken aback. It was apparent from his reaction that he hadn't considered such a possibility.

"I don't want to scare you," Chris assured him. "But you're thinking that where you come from was full of friends. And that may be so. But it's possible, too, that it wasn't. Maybe they were the cause of your amnesia."

Paul frowned in concentration. "Maybe," he admitted.

"Do you remember anything at all?" Della asked.

He shook his head. "I remember a few images and faces and stuff like that but it's very faint. I used to remember in my dreams, but then when I would wake up it would all go away. Now I can't remember my dreams at all."

"Did you have anything on you when you first woke up and realized you couldn't remember anything?"

"Not a thing. First thing I did was see if I had a wallet or anything. Maybe that would have ID. But I didn't have anything more than the clothes on my back. "

Chris and Della exchanged glances again. "Weird," both commented in unison.

"There has to be some sort of clue," Christopher said, determined. He frowned.

"There is!" Della realized. "He's a music lover. We've already figured that he might have been a musician."

"Might have," Paul pointed out. "Can't be sure."

"True," Chris commented.

"At any rate I know that I don't come from around here," Paul stated, trying to bring them back to the original topic. "And eventually I'm going to have to go back on the road and try and figure out where."

"Right," Chris agreed.

"I agreed I'd stay another month or so and help you out but I don't feel like I can stay any more than that," Paul told Della. "If you want to search for a buyer that's fine. But I don't think I can take the store."

Suddenly a dark face appeared in front of him.

"He's not your child," the face told him.

'Who are you?' he asked.

"Your worst night mare," the face replied. There was an explosion and the face disappeared from view.

Paul awoke with a start, his throat raw from screaming. He panted a few times, catching his breath. The dream had scared him awake.

Slowly Paul rose out of bed and staggered into the bathroom. He splashed some cool water on his face and stared into the mirror. The dream had been different. This time, he hadn't remembered. But he did remember the dream.

There was a knock on his door, and he heard Chris whispering. "Paul, are you alright?"

Paul opened the door and let him in. "I think so," he replied in a normal voice. "Just sorta scared."

"Bad dream?" Chris asked.

Paul nodded. "You could say that."

"Wanna tell me about it?" Chris asked. "Let's have some hot cocoa," he suggested. The two went down stairs and Chris fixed them some hot cocoa while Paul told Chris about the dream.

"I used to have dreams like this all the time," Paul finished. "With a black face that would just threaten me and then there would be an explosion and I'd wake up screaming. But that was all I'd remember."

"This time you remembered more," Chris stated. "Did it seem like the dream was real? I mean like it could be your life before now?"

Paul shook his head. "I can't tell," he replied. "Sort of, but not really. I mean it seemed real, but I can't be sure." He sighed.

Chris nodded in understanding as he sipped his cocoa. "Well for now I'd assume it is real," he replied. "Your first real memory."

Paul agreed. "I think I will. But it doesn't help me figure out where I came from any easier."

Paul watched as Della led the real estate agent out of the store and sighed. So far she wasn't having much luck finding someone to buy the store.

Della didn't look too pleased with the agent. She entered the store again looking rather upset and displeased. Paul frowned sympathetically.

"Meeting didn't go too well, did it?" he asked. She shook her head and made a face.

"No, not at all," she replied. "That man is a real jerk."

Paul couldn't help laughing at that. "I suppose you're still not interested in keeping it yourself," he assumed.

She shook her head. "No way," she replied. "I've got a month to find a buyer, and I'm going to find one."

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