The Other Side

Despite Monica's help there was no one in the area reporting anyone missing...at least no one fitting his description. He began to wonder if there had been anyone in his life who would have actually missed him. But if there wasn't, then where were the dreams and memories coming from? It didn't make much sense.

Other than making no progress in that area, his life seemed to be going rather well. He had gotten a job at a local food store, and, while it was not the most glamorous of jobs, it paid well and the hours were decent. The rent at the boarding house was inexpensive and Janet was a good cook.

But, as always, something he could not name was missing.

It was about a week after the full moon when Paul got his first real clue into what had happened to him. It was a calm day with nice weather and he was lucky enough to have the day off. He was heading to the music store to buy some records, having recently purchased a record player. Any sort of musical instrument was far beyond his meager budget, but he could still enjoyed music simply from listening to it.

He was whistling a melody that seemed strangely familiar and yet at the same time unheard of as he strolled into the music store.

Perusing past the Broadway, country, and blues tunes, he made his way towards the classical section. Another tune popped into his head and he began to hum it out loud as he searched through the Bach records.

He eventually made his purchase and left the store, reverting now from the classical tune he had been humming in the store back to the unfamiliar and more modern melody.

On the way there he passed a bar and, remembering his good-bye night with Dan Johnson, decided to stop in for a drink or two. So he entered, sat in a stool at the bar, and ordered a beer.

The man next to him was eyeing his bag, so Paul proudly held up his recent purchase for his inspection. The man nodded semi-approvingly, not disagreeing or agreeing with the selection enough to voice his opinion.

The bartender delivered the beer, and Paul grabbed a handful of the complimentary peanuts to munch.

He noticed the man watching him as he drank, so he turned to take in the man's full appearance. He was rather thin, sort of tall, with blondish colored hair and blue eyes. Wearing only a casual T-shirt and jeans, the man was most likely either in manual labor (such as a plumber or carpenter) or on his day off as well.

"Hey," Paul offered as a greeting. "Do I know you?"

The man studied him for a few minutes, frowning slightly. "I don't think so..." he replied. "But I'm not sure."

"You've seen me before?" Paul attempted to keep calm, but failed miserably.

"I don't know," the man replied thoughtfully. "But I might have."

"Try to remember," Paul pleaded.

"It's strange," the man answered, just as calm as ever. He appeared lost in his mind for a moment. "What's it so important for, anyway?" he asked suddenly, his eyebrows raised in an expression of obvious confusion.

"Well, it's just that I kind of have amnesia," Paul admitted. He turned towards the bar and took a long sip of his beer.

The man nodded slowly. "Amnesia," he commented, apparently in agreement. "That kinda sucks." He took a sip of his own beer, finishing it off, and set it down on the bar again.

"Yeah, just a little," Paul agreed, finishing off the last of his own beer.

The man had been studying his empty beer glass for a few moments, as if trying to decide whether or not to order another. Paul finished his handful of peanuts, but didn't get up. Suddenly, the man turned to him. "Wanna go for a walk?" he asked.

Paul shrugged. "Sure, why not?" he replied, sliding off the bar stool and picking up his bag. He placed the money for the beer on the bar and headed for the door, following the other man.

The two walked to a park about four blocks away in silence. Then they sat down on a bench. Neither spoke. Paul sensed the man was thinking about something and didn't want to interrupt his thoughts.

"You ever been married?" the man asked suddenly.

Paul looked away from the sparrows he had been watching. He frowned in thought, attempting to remember. "I'm not sure," he replied finally. The other man laughed, half at himself and half at Paul's reply. "Why?"

"Well, I'm thinking about it," the other man replied. He stared at a crack in the sidewalk. "Not sure yet if it's a good idea."

It was about the response Paul had expected. Why else would he ask such a question out of nowhere? Unsure of what to reply, Paul merely said "Well, it's a big step."

The man laughed out loud again. "That's for sure!" he replied, and Paul saw that he was grinning slightly.

"Who you thinking of marrying?" Paul asked, even though he had a feeling he wouldn't have any clue who the woman was.

"My boss," the man replied. He noted Paul's somewhat surprised look. "Well, not really," he amended. "We work together, and it's kind of a partnership, but she's really the one in charge."

"What kind of work?" Paul asked.

"Well, she's a vet," the man replied. "And I'm just about everything else in the office." Paul nodded, interested. "We've been working together for a little over a year now, and we've got a great working relationship. I'm not sure if I want to risk it by getting...involved."

Paul nodded in understanding. "I see."

"It would be sort of awkward," the man clarified.

"Probably," Paul agreed, though he didn't believe he had any experience with which to go on to base his response. But it seemed likely.

There was a long silence then. The man seemed to have given all the necessary information. Paul guessed he wanted his opinion, and tried to think of everything he knew about girls and marriage to give him advice.

The girls he had known the past six months had not been romantically involved with him, but he could make some guesses on what they would think if they were in such a situation. He recalled Della, who he himself had worked with. He didn't deny that she was an attractive woman. Would it have been awkward around the store if he had been in love with her? Or if she had been in love with him?

"I think you should ask her what she thinks," Paul replied after a long period of thought.

The man frowned for a moment. "Yeah, that's a good idea," he replied non-commitally, and Paul wondered if he was actually going to take his advice or if he was merely going to think about it and then forget it. There was a short silence.

"I think I should get back now," the man said then, looking at his watch. He stood up, and Paul did, too. "My lunch break's almost over, and I've got a ton of work to do." He looked up from his wrist and smiled at Paul. "Thanks for the advice," he told him, offering his hand.

Paul shook hands with the man and smiled back. "No problem," he replied. "I'm Paul, by the way," he added. "At least that's what I'm called." He grinned.

The man grinned back and nodded. "Joel," he replied. "I hope I see you again."

"Good luck with the girl," Paul said awkwardly as he lifted the bag with his record in it.

"Thanks," Joel replied. "And, um, good luck with your amnesia thing, too." He strolled off across the park, back in the direction of the veterinarian's office, and Paul headed in the opposite direction.

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