The Other Side

As the weeks went by, Paul began to think that Joel was more and more familar. He was almost certain that he must have known the man before he'd lost his memory. But, though Joel tried, he hadn't been able to recall ever having seen Paul before. Which only served to confuse them even more, and so they ceased discussing it.

Joel was making progress with his own life. He'd managed, after some encouragement from Paul, to tell his co-worker how he felt, and she was surprised to learn that she felt that way. Secretly, she'd been harboring some of the same feelings towards him, but had been afraid of rejection. Now they were dating.

They had known each other for awhile when Joel suggested that the three of them go out for dinner one night. Paul had not yet met the woman, but was eager to after what he had heard about her. So he agreed. He felt somewhat awkward not bringing someone else along as a date, but couldn't think of anyone to bring.

And so, about three weeks after the two had initially met, Paul found himself putting on his best clothes and meeting his new friend at Café Luigi's.

He arrived ten minutes early, as was the plan, since he was able to get there faster than Joel. He reserved them a table and munched on some breadsticks as he waited. Café Luigi's was busy that night, and he was glad he had arrived early.

Fifteen minutes later, Joel arrived. On his arm was a woman shorter than himself, with bright green eyes and auburn hair. She wore a short dark skirt and a green blouse that matched her eyes. Paul could see immediately that Joel was very happy with her.

"Paul, I want you to meet Theresa," he introduced. "Theresa, this is Paul."

"Nice to finally meet you," Theresa and Paul found themselves saying at the same time, and all three laughed. They sat down at a table and began to order.

Some time later, as was with many of Paul's dinners, the subject of his amnesia popped up. Theresa was very interested (being involved, to some extent, in medicine) and wanted to hear the story from Paul's point of view.

"I remember a few things," he admitted when she asked. "Vague flashes of memories - of people, usually. And I have very vivid dreams. But they don't last."

"What do you remember?" she asked.

Paul thought for a moment. "People," he replied. "I remember a bunch of people around my own age...I think I might have lived with them. I remember a little boy." The image of the baby that had filled his dreams at night again popped into his head. "I think he might have been my son, but I'm not sure," he added.

"You don't look old enough to have kids," Joel told him, and Paul shrugged.

"I don't think I am either," he admitted. "But that's the feeling I get."

"Anything else?" Theresa asked.

"I remember music. Lots of music," he confessed. "Songs that I can't place run through my head. And other songs I am very familiar with. I get the feeling I was very connected to music."

"Maybe you were a musician," Joel considered.

"Well, I have the talent for it," Paul informed them. He told them about the month he had spent working in a music store and discovering the multitude of instruments he could play. Both were impressed.

"From what you've told me, I think I can assume that you were in some sort of a band, and that you lived with your bandmates. But I'm not sure where the baby fits in."

Paul nodded his agreement. "I'm not either. I remember a woman a little, but I can't remember really how I felt about her. I don't remember if she was the baby's mother or not." He frowned.

"Has there been any luck in... finding someone who's searching for someone with your description?" Joel asked. Paul had told him about Monica's search.

"No. That's the strange part. I know I'm from around here, I can practically feel it. But I can't figure out then why they wouldn't report me missing."

"Maybe there's something else you're not remembering," Theresa theorized. "Something that happened that made you leave these people in anger."

Paul frowned. "Maybe," he admitted.

"Have you ever seen a doctor about it?" she asked.

"A doctor?" he repeated blankly. "What's a doctor going to do?"

"Well not a regular physican," Theresa clarified. "Like a psychiatrist or something. Even a hypnotist might help."

Paul thought for a moment. "Maybe," he repeated. "But I don't have the money to spend on a doctor. I think it's something I have to get through myself."

Paul shut the door behind him and turned on the light in his room. He began to unbutton his shirt as he walked over to the window. The sun was just beginning to go down, and already he could see the full moon in the distance. He felt bad about deserting Joel and Theresa for the night - they had wanted to see a movie or a show - but he knew he had to stay in that night. There was something more important.

He removed his shirt and shoes and began on his pants, thinking all the time about the secret. He hadn't told Theresa or Joel. And he didn't plan to. There was no reason for him to. And, though he wouldn't admit it to himself or anyone else, he was afraid. Afraid that he would loose them as friends if he told them.

It was a good thing the boarding house was quiet tonight. Most everyone respected everyone else's privacy, and he knew he wouldn't be bothered during the night. The thought relieved him.

He stood in front of his dresser, staring in the mirror. The light blue glow was already surrounding his face, and he looked down at his arms to see that the aura had completely surrounded him. It signaled the beginning.

Paul had some vauge idea that he could control the blue light and that he could control the change, but he had yet to try it. There was no need to, really. It was merely something to live with. And then move on. Try to ignore even though he knew he couldn't.

His ears began to stretch longer, the first sign of the change, and his hair grew thick on his head until it covered his face as well. His arms and legs soon followed. The physical changes didn't begin until after that.

His nose and lips stretched out to their limits and then further. His flat human teeth were replaced with sharp canines, and his nose grew dark and rough and cold. His hearing grew more alert than even his usual strong ability, and his eyesight grew dimmer. Claws appeared on his hands, which had lost their thumbs and become paws. His feet grew smaller and his legs shifted position so that he could no longer stand on them. Last was the tail, which began as a thin, wiry extension of his spine and then was shortly after covered with the thick fur that now covered the rest of him.

When it was finished, the dog that had once been Paul climbed up onto the bed and prepared to sleep. Unlike most members of his species, he had to get up for work the next morning.

"Oh, Peter, I love you," a woman's voice was saying, and he felt overwhelmed by the love, knowing that she was speaking the truth.

"I love you, too," he said, bending to kiss her. Passion flowed through his brain, threatening to take over. He didn't mind.

"She's mine!!" the face in the darkness shouted, and Paul suddenly found himself staring at a dark figure.

"No!!" he shouted back. A plea. Not a threat, but a plea. "Don't hurt her. Don't hurt the boy!"

The figure just laughed as it set the timer on the bomb. The large numbers seemed to be mocking him as he struggled to get free.

Tick. Tock.

"It's been nice knowing you," the voice told him. "No, wait. It hasn't." He laughed and stepped out of the shadows. "See my face. It's the last thing you'll see."

He screamed louder than he had ever screamed before, screaming until his throat was raw. The bell rang on the alarm clock as the bomb exploded.

Paul sat up in bed, sweating. His throat was sore. Had he actually been screaming?

Already the dream was fading from memory. The alarm clock next to his bed rang furiously, demanding his attention. With a sigh of relief, he shut it off, then headed for the shower to clear his head.

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On to part twenty-four(and the seventh month)