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Outside the night is calm and still. I walk away from my house. Casey said she lived thirty minutes from my home, so I walk for what feels like that time, then stop.
I'm on a quiet street. I Stare up at the inky black sky, filled with sparkling silver speckles, and listen to the sound of critters chattering safely under the cover of darkness. Deep in the bowels of my barely living belly I feel a distant memory stir and rise upwards; it rests in my mind with a soft sadness. It's the memory of my life and death.
I recall my last moment of life in Hoboken, New Jersey: a woman screaming at me, "Get outta the way kid!" The drunk driver smashed into me with such force, I felt nothing, no pain, just the swooshing sound of life being sucked from my body.
Now, standing on this quiet corner, I hear the sound of another car approach me. It travels at a speed that won't cause me harm.
The car stops right beside me, the window slides down. I keep looking at the sky, its sparkling stars soothe me. "Hi buddy, are you OK?" says a man's voice.
I pull my gaze from the stars and stoop down to the cars window, "I am Kirk," I say. The man smiles, "Hi Kirk, it's pretty late for you to be out kid. Are you looking for a ride somewhere?"
"No. I'm going to visit my friend, Casey."
"OK, where does Casey live?"
"She Lives thirty minutes from my house."
I hear a clicking sound, the car door pings open a little, "Jump in fella, I'll take you right to Casey's door."
The smell inside the car reminds me of something from life – a stale human: smokey, unwashed, a hint of ham wafts from his breath, teasing me a little with its meaty scent.
His actions, they seem kind. He puts his hand on my knee, looks at me and smiles again. He only has three teeth.
The man drives carefully, one hand on the wheel, the other still rests on my knee. "Thank you for taking me to my friend," I say. When he smiles again, his three little teeth make me giggle a little, "That's OK buddy, but you walked for much more than a half hour, we got some way to go yet, we got a long drive ahead," he chuckles.
The man talks into his cell phone – "I've found him, he's been standing on Jacksonville Avenue looking up at the stars all night. I'll bring him right on over."
He drives onwards. The stars switch off, the sky lightens as the orange sun begins to rise.
I look out the window and watch as the sun turns yellow and settles into a bright blue sky. The drive continues.
When the car stops I am confused. This is not Casey's house...
...the man with three teeth has drove me home.
......
The man is employed by my Dad, he's an associate.
Associates are people who've dealt with the dark side to re-animate dead loved ones, only to lose them forever to triple discovery. They help parents like mine, whose re-animate's truth has been discovered once, and is in grave danger of being discovered thrice. They no exactly how to deal with partial emotional re-call cases, like mine.
