By Gizmo
Copyright 1999
Nathaniel looked around. From where he stood by the general store he could see most of the buildings the small town called Memory consisted of. The small hotel and saloon, the even smaller jail, the buildings people lived in, the livery stable and a few more places of interest for a visitor. He jumped off the wagon he had been sitting on, tying the reins to a hitching post. Father Ballard turned the instant he heard Nathaniel's feet on the ground.
"You must take it easy, my child. Your head is still healing."
"I'm alright," Nathaniel assured him.
"Good, then you may help me with the beans. Once we have everything loaded you're free to wander around for awhile. Maybe you'll run into Mary."
"Mary?"
"The woman you sat next to this morning. She helps me sometimes, and I'm sure she'd love to show you around. But first, to the beans!"
Nathaniel was exhausted. He had walked through town and back, helped the Father with the groceries and cared for the horse. Of course, Father Ballard had insisted he got some rest instead of grooming, but somehow caring for the horse after the visit to town felt natural. Nathaniel figured that doing things that felt natural may jog his memory some. But now all he wanted to do was sleep.
He awoke a couple of hours later, and then decided to see where the Father was at. Walking up to the alter he was first startled to see a woman sitting there on the right front row. Mary. He could see she was praying, with her head bowed and her hands clasped together. He sat down on the left front row and decided to be quiet until she was done. He watched her sideways, glancing curiously at her. Her brownish blonde hair was flowing down her back in beautiful wavy curls. Her skin and face were flawless and her nose petite and pointy. Her eyes, framed by long brown lashes, opened suddenly and he saw they were crystal blue. She spoke without looking up.
"So, you're the mystery man."
"Huh?" Nathaniel replied.
"The entire town talks about you. The handsome 'Nathaniel' who has no memory. Quite a place to end up, Memory…" Mary trailed off, finally turning to look at him.
"Yeah, it's a suitable name," Nathaniel smiled, feeling the color on his cheeks turn red when he met her eyes.
"Is it really true you don't remember anything? Not even your name?" Mary asked next, rising from her bench.
She sat down beside him on an arm length's distance while he though of an answer.
"I'm afraid it is true. But I'm beginning to adopt Nathaniel, though!"
"That's good," Mary smiled, meeting his dark eyes. Her smile made his cheeks even redder and he had to look away to keep himself from swooning. But he knew he would have plenty of time for that later.
"But how are you adjusting to church rat life, then?" Mary asked, but a second later she realized how that sounded.
"No harm meant."
"None taken," Nathaniel smiled.
"I feel quite unused to it, but I'm adjusting alright."
"I use to help Father Ballard with the funerals and weddings and stuff. I'm good with flowers. By the way, I'm Mary. Mary Sandler."
"Pleased to meet you," Nathaniel answered politely.
"I'm… someone!" he laughed.
"I'm sure you'll remember who you are," Mary said, trying to encourage him.
"One day, soon…"
A pause followed, both Nathaniel and Mary sitting in their own thoughts.
"Hey, where do you live? Here?" Mary asked finally.
"Yep, six feet under," Nathaniel replied with a warm smile.
"You're funny," Mary smiled back.
"I take it you mean the basement?"
"Yeah, the basement."
"Wouldn't you rather stay at the hotel or something?" Mary was curious to know.
"Nah, the basement's fine. I get headaches, so a little privacy is just what I need."
"Headaches, huh? From your accident?"
"I guess. I couldn't say that I know what a regular headache feels like!"
Nathaniel laughed and Mary joined in a moment later. "Perhaps you should see a real doctor? I mean, Father Ballard is good and he knows a lot, but I've never seen him treat anything this serious before."
Nathaniel could sense the worry in her voice, and in her beautiful eyes he saw the same thing. She really cares about me, and she barely knows me! He couldn't help but feel warm inside at the thought.
"I feel fine most of the time. Whatever education he has, or not, he did a good job reviving me." Before Mary could comment on that, Father Ballard walked into the church from outside and came down the aisle with a smile on his old face.
"Good evening, children," he spoke warmly and hugged Mary carefully, kissing her cheek.
"I see you two are already introduced. That's very good, very good, God bless you. Nathaniel, any news?"
"No, Father, I still don't remember anything," Nathaniel replied and his smile died.
"I'm sorry, Father."
"Oh, don't be, Nathaniel!" Father Ballard replied, still smiling widely at both of them.
"The heavenly father will fix everything in time, just have faith!"
Nathaniel allowed his smile to return.
"I hear you, Father, faith!" Nathaniel grinned, Mary smirking behind the Father's back.
"Well, I'll leave you young people alone, I have to prepare for the baptizing tomorrow morning."
Mary was quick to speak before the Father had disappeared again.
"I'll help you with the flowers, I just need to pick them first!"
The Father nodded, then began polishing the thick gold frame that held the painting of Jesus on the cross. Mary turned back to her new friend who was just opening his mouth to speak.
"You have a lot of flowers growing here?" he asked.
"You really need to get out of this place!" Mary laughed.
"Memory has some of the richest flower meadows in the country! I'd be happy to show you, if you join me today?"
"Yeah? Well, is that okay with you, Father?" Nathaniel asked, feeling thrilled just thinking of spending the evening with Mary.
"But of course, child!" the Father cried happily, still focusing on the picture frame.
"You've been so helpful here today, I completely forgot about your needs! Go on, have fun!"
Nathaniel smiled and turned back to Mary, meeting her crystal eyes. He blushed again.
"Thanks, Father," he mumbled.
"Come on, let's go right away!" Mary urged and took his hand in hers.
In the next breath she was leading him toward her favorite meadow.
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