I was smarter than this. I knew what would happen, I knew exactly what would happen if I walked up the driveway and knocked on that same gray-green door which I had thought I would never see again. Despite having nowhere to go, it wasn’t hard to see or hear the news, the world’s reaction to a walking, breathing Jesus. I didn’t know if what the guy said was true or not, I didn’t know a lot of things, all I know is that one day I was awake, then I fell asleep, and then I woke up again. And this door, I distinctly remembered this door, this street, this house.

Of course the guy did say my memory would be a little foggy. He said a lot of things, and I still don’t really remember what they were. He said he was a great, um, magician? He said he was going to rule the world with his army of…I guess, things like me. There indeed were a lot of people up who looked like they would have been better off asleep, but as I stared at them and myself, I saw our sallow skin tighten, and our bony fingers polish themselves in the waning moonlight. I felt my hair grow back on my head and teeth grow and realign while the sorcerer supreme laughed on.

He said to us come, he waved for us to follow him. Yet none of us did. I think we were all still trying to figure out what had just happened. He yelled and stomped, I think trying to push one of the…girls? My eyes hadn’t quite been working that well then. He sighed and hmmphed, I think realizing this hadn’t gone the way he wanted. So he left us. We all just sat there for awhile, after a day or two some of us had remembered how to speak. We talked amongst ourselves, trying to figure who or what we were when we were rudely interrupted by the NOVEMBER 2018 SHORT STORY 11 Reunion screams of a few people. We turned and grunted and the screams turned into applause. A crowd of people led by none other than the one who had done this to us shushed the crowd and said to them, “See my power for what it is. I have revived those who had been faithful to me, see me as I am now, your lord and savior!” Further applause was broken only by a little girl, sniffling and holding the hand of a man who I could only assume to be her father who had somehow gotten ahead of the huge crowd. She held her hand out, trying to pull the reluctant man looking down towards a woman who had told me was Martha. We weren’t sure what a Martha was, but as the thin and still very pale and balding woman walked forward she seemed to be able to recall that meaning. Spurred by the tortured childs leaning, she seemed to be able to recall something else as well, something besides a Martha. She said to the small one, and the big one too, despite trying to not look at him as much as he tried to not look at her. “Eloise.” The man finally looked up, staring into Martha’s eyes, wetness clouding his own, and they both stood and stared for a while before the little girl broke free and hugged the Martha tight. At first she was shocked, then a little scared, then she hugged back. The girl yelled out loud, for everyone to hear, “Promise! Promise, Mommy! Promise you won’t leave us again!” Martha did not promise anything. She only took the hand of the man who was reluctant to grab it, to hold onto her again, to feel love, and to lose it and helped carry their burden out and away from the crowd.

The crowd dispersed searching for their own Marthas, I think however some were far less pleased with their findings. In fact a lot of people were…angry? Disgusted is what I think I mean, though angry could apply to that as well. They yelled and got violent, some brought matchsticks, others bats, and guns and then a team of men all in thick white carried a few of my friends out of the mish-mashed crowd with the people following them all while I hid waiting for the noise to just stop. I knew I had to get away from here, almost forgetting why, when I heard the magic man leading a new crowd to the other few who had escaped.

So I left, and walked until I could find something to hold onto, my own Eloise. As I walked I remembered small things, more words, some other names, and that Martha was a name. I figured out that noone would want me, a freak from beyond nature, but still I had to try, I wanted to try and live again, and that was when I found myself at the little brick house, with a grey green door, and a subaru parked in the driveway. I walked up to the door, knowing this would never work, that nothing would change, except my resentment towards this world which cast me out once, then threw me back in only to be thrown to the sharks. I knocked once, twice, three times, then rang the bell. A little jingle I used to do before, to remind them I was home. The door slowly opened, with a familiar face framing its entry, it was neither a smile or a whimper on their face just shock, and I struggled to say, struggled to remember…yes, I know now, I remember.

“Richard?”