Chapter II, pt. i

“Did you see this?” Thomas asked. The headline read: REPUBLICANS NOMINATE FALCONER FOR PRESIDENT.
“Yeah,” Adam said.
“Did you know,” Thomas went on, “did you know he was the first governor to successfully pass a law that required citizens of Arizona to carry an RFID card.”
“Uh huh.”
“The next step after that is to chip everybody.”
Thomas was a budding journalist. And a conspiracy nut, so ‘they’ claimed but for those that knew him, he was a fount of hidden knowledge. And he had the quickest wit of anyone Adam knew.
“ ‘And he causeth all, both small and great, rich and poor, free and bond, to receive a mark in their right hand, or in their foreheads. And that no man might buy or sell, save he that had the mark, or the name of the beast, or the number of his name.’ That’s from revelations. It‘s happening, man, it‘s all happening,” Thomas gave his newspaper a great shake and it unkinked over his lap as he casually spoke, “lambs to the slaughter.
“Did you see this, another UFO sighting. They take these things so serious now, everything’s so serious now.”
Adam looked up from his cup of chai.
“In the news,” Thomas went on, “everything’s got a nasty edge to it.”
“It’s always been that way,” Adam said.
“Not like this, it’s worse these days. The way you’re told to report news is like every little event could end up being a matter of national security.”
“TV’s all tits and cars, entertainment to keep you stupid.”
“Well, here’s how it is. You wake up, you read your morning paper and you get scared. You go to work and swap horror stories and paranoid fantasies with your co-workers. Then you go home and TV is your pacifier. It’s your baba.”
“I still say it’s always been that way,” he sipped his tea, Thomas sipped his coffee. “But then,” Adam continued, “I don’t know anymore. About memory, if it can be trusted, you know what I mean?” and he pointed at his temple.
“No, but I’m ready to be enlightened.”
“Ever since the accident, you know.”
“Right.”
“Well, did you ever get the feeling that your memories could be wrong?”
“Wrong? Like they were planted there…”
“No--”
“…by a UFO?”
“No, I mean, all my memories, before the accident like, they don’t belong to me anymore. I mean, not to the me I am today.”
“Well, that makes sense kind of.”
“Yeah, but it’s more than that. My memories just seem wrong. Like they’re backwards and there’s spots missing and I get new ones too. Like really early memories, early, early childhood memories. Stuff that I know happened and they’re real, the memories, but they don’t seem like they should be there. I don’t know how many people can remember being born, I mean, I don’t know … I do.”
Thomas sat there feeling sorry for his friend. The accident must have really knocked his brain around.
“Hey, you don’t have to believe me. The feeling of being born was just like when I woke up after the accident. It was the same.”
“Makes sense, I guess.”
“There’s other stuff too. There are big blotches missing from around the time of the accident. I don’t really remember much at all about the accident. Mostly it comes out in dreams but …” he pursed his lips then bit his nails.
“Well, we were at the park, sitting on the grass.”
“You were there?”
“Yeah, Leah was telling us how she used to eat her boogers, then it started raining and we went our separate ways.”
“That‘s right. I remember sitting on the grass, laughing, with sunglasses on.”
“Yup,” Thomas looked back down at the newspaper, “look at this: ‘Controversy over genetic research at local area hospital.’” He had to laugh. Adam dipped his bag of tea repeatedly, compulsively, glancing nervously around the room as he did so. He always felt eyes on him everywhere he went, people nudging elbows, nodding in his direction, low talking, wheels spinning, how will they get in on the action? They wanted to talk to him, wanted a piece of him, at least wanted to be in the background when the cameras rolled. There’s the freak. He’s the one.
“I remember walking,” Adam spoke low, wary of prying ears, “walking for the first time. Falling over, steadying myself on wobbly knees.” Thomas folded up his newspaper and put it on the table, he was generally concerned about his friend’s mental well-being. “But it’s like a movie,” Adam continued, “watching somebody else’s life.”
Thomas took his empty coffee cup between his thumb and middle finger and shook it. “Come on,” he said, “let’s get a beer.”