The Victims of Memory

“The room was eerie, cold and dreadful that even the shadows wanted to fade away into the night. Where would they escape too? It is only in the dark of night that shadows do not exist. The shadows would escape into the night only to find the path of the darkness an unacceptable soul. The path to a greater character would be lost forever. The end.” The words floated from Simon’s cold breath into the grim moonlight. The campfire was crackling, marshmallows were popping, and each person was motionless. No one could believe the story ended so abruptly. “Simone if you lose something, and you look after it, for example something that you lost, like this depraved, mentally ill character does, you look for it. Why didn’t she Simon? Why didn’t she look for him?”

Ollie was disturbed by the ending, I think we all were. Ollies voice sounded husky and sinister, he cleared his throat and looked at Simon in a way that expressed exactly how he felt, uneasy. Simone sliced a piece of chocolate cake with the same precision he cut into his patients. We wanted to feel fear, and Simon’s story and actions weren’t disappointing us.

“Ollie you are so jittery, why?” Simon whispered in his raspy voice.

“I’m terrified Simon, I understand that art can imitate life, but death? Can a hollow death really imitate life?” Ollie was a licensed clinical psychologist. “This story points out your own mental health issues my friend.” Ollie held out one of his business cards. Simon reached slowly and intentionally to keep the experience alive. “Does anyone else feel that Dr. Ollie is correct? Is my main character in this story serving as a mirror of myself, for my own experiences? The victims of memory will be a best seller despite myself Ollie.” Simon took the cake and pushed the last bite into his mouth, smirking a half evil grin. Simon knew he filled their reality with the truth that haunted him so, the shadows that begged to escape from him and fade into the night. “You are a sick bastard Simon. I must bow to the success of this short sample, and salute to how excluded from life you must feel. I have no idea where to begin. Simon I faced fear after fear. I won’t be able to sleep for a week. ” Jameson hugged Simon, grabbed his girlfriend’s hand and they traveled out of sight. Simon was standing off in the distance, he literally looked like the living definition of his own story.

Months had passed since that little story had been unleashed on us. Ollie and I met at our favorite little pub in Los Angeles.

“Ollie, how are you?” I gave him the tightest hand shake.

“To be honest Paul, I’ve been in a blank state over the past month or so.’’ He waved a waitress over to our table.

“I hate to hear that. Is there anything I can do Ollie?” We shot our first drink.

“You could divorce your wife.”

He was kidding but wasn’t kidding. Ollie had been in love with Shelly since our college years. We drank another shot and sipped our beer. After talking nonsense for a bit, we finally focused. “All kidding aside, Paul. I want to talk about Simon. Why is it that he can help so many people and not deal with his own trauma?” Ollie was referring to Simon’s wife, she had been diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer’s, she was only 43. “Paul is his campfire story, the victims of memory. The character loses her husband and doesn’t look for him. I sit straight up in bed every night covered in sweat. I see Bella lost in this eerie dreadful place.” Ollie shot his pickle back and lit a cigarette. “Ollie, in his story she doesn’t look for him because she knows where he is, she killed him. This disease is killing him. She is trapped in her mind, she doesn’t know to look for him. We have all taken a turn at telling ominous and frightening nail bitters. Why is this haunting you?” I was confused at the level of anguish my friend was in. “It isn’t just a story. He is telling us he is living in this death sentence with her. Her own shadows are running into the dark to escape. We have to get him to lock her up. She’s already locked inside her mind. He won’t her go.” Tears were swimming in my eyes as Ollie spoke. “Ollie, you have to let Simon deal with this his own way and in his own time. You don’t have a family. Don’t judge him! The last time he took your advice, she tried to jump off the ledge. The entire ride home she repeated over and over to Simon, ‘Qu’est-ce que j’ai fait?’ What did I do. That phrase haunts him. I support the title, ‘Victims of Memory.’ They both will forever be. I couldn’t do what you’re requesting to Shelly. It’s until death do us part buddy.. something you wouldn’t understand.” I stood over him sternly with tight fist. Ollie coward away. “I digress, Paul.” He belted put as his back was turned and he walked down the street and into the sunset.

The doorbell rings and trick-or-treaters were on the schedule this night. Shockingly, I answered the door and it was Bella Simon’s wife. I almost panicked when the kids jumped from around her in their awesome costumes. Shelly jumped up from the couch and gave them double the treats while embracing Bella tightly. “It’s been forever, how are you? Come in won’t you?” Shelly was so beautiful. Our son and theirs were both Ninjas and in an intense battle saving their youngest daughter, a precious ballerina. It was decided that Simon and I would take the children trick-or-treating, while the best friends made dinner.

“She looks good Simon. Sorry, Shelly is always better at this.” We spoke as the kids ran ahead. “It’s been a few days now, she has resurfaced as my love and their mother. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done and the most meaningful. Her cognitive condition prevents reliable self-assessment. I moved her parents in and her mother has a knack and an ability to see her pain, treating it however, well is almost impossible. It’s anyone’s guess. If she can’t communicate what’s wrong we can’t treat her properly.” He put his forehead against mine. I did see and understand his pain and felt the fear. “Ollie won’t get off the plan of locking her up. I won’t do it, Paul. Unless she harms herself or the kids.” Simon couldn’t choked back the tears. “Dad, look at all this candy!” Simon’s son Shelby laughed with delight. It was obvious they hadn’t had this ordinary joy in a while. “That’s why Ollie is single, alone, he doesn’t deserve love.” Simon said as he pulled his children close to him. All I could do in the moment was nod my head at my brother, because it was all he needed at that time, that and a few laughs. As we turned the corner I called the children over to the side of a house where we filled up several water balloons and made a plan. As Simons little girl danced at the door and sang out trick-or-treat, the boys nailed Uncle Ollie with the water balloons. We enjoyed every drop dripping down. Ollie was furious and slammed the door, forgetting his bag of candy. We grabbed it and returned home to dinner. Shelly put the movie Hocus Pocus on, and we all settled in to the perfect calm before the storm.

Bella sat in her rocking chair watching the snow. Christmas carols were playing in the background. They had all become prisoners in their home. Bella wandered off and threaten the women in the mirror daily. Simons worse nightmare had come true, his beloved no longer remembered them. She would get lost in familiar places. Simon camouflaged their doors, added security and extra help. He accepted that he couldn’t hold on to the past any more. We all had to face the choice of putting her into a facility to care for her long term. We all agreed that after the new year she would be placed in the best we could find. As all good story ends, this one was closer than we knew to its final chapter.

Bella was sleeping and eating less. On this unforgettable morning Simon had taken the kids to karate classes and returned to find Bella missing. Her parents were just waking up from their sleep. My drive to work was interrupted by Shelly screaming frantically. As I arrived the yard was taped off like a crime scene. The police responded perfectly. They set up road blocks and sent out search parties. Simon basically pulled me from my car pleading, “Where is she, Paul?” Shelly looked devastated. Simon was beside himself. Her mother was a strong women, her father was not doing well. A neighbor dropped the kids off and Simon and Shelly down to explained that they didn’t know where their mother was but that they would do their best to find her.

“She doesn’t want you to find her.” Allie told her father as she swung her little feet.

“What, honey?” Simon leaned closer to her.

His son Shelby said, “She kissed us good night. She said she was going away so we could live the new year in peace.”

Uncle Ollie picked Allie up. Simon bolted to their room, I followed. All of her things were packed. On her vanity was note from Bella. It read,

“Dear Simon, I am not lost, my love. I have my memories of our family and each one is dear to me. Move on with your life and let the children do the same. When I am lost in this disease I cannot look for you baby, find yourself. Please forgive Ollie. Simon, our children’s home is no longer eerie because the shadow has escaped into the dark and we are all now free. I love you Simon, Allie and Shelby, Bella.”

It was over. The police informed us Ollie was gone. His house was empty. He had done the unthinkable, he took Bella and put her somewhere else forever. Never to be found.