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The Weekend

I turn around and look at Monica with a questionable look, and reply, "Do you really think there's another journal out there?

If so, where could it be? Do you know where it could be?"

"I haven't a clue. But there's more to this than what we've discovered and from what we've read from their journals. John, we need to find that journal. Think where your dad could have hidden it."

I sit down and begin to think of where Dad could have stored a second journal; but why would he have two journals? Trying to remember the places he usually frequented, which by the way weren't too many, I start to recall the most obvious places like the CDC and home. Dad, did you have a secret place? I try to remember ever going to a beach, or vacationing anywhere. We never did. We never left Atlanta; not as a family anyway.

Dad would always attend the Population Control Administration Conferences with colleagues, never with Mom. When he was gone, Mom and I always did things in Atlanta. I can't remember what things, but I do remember going to a big white building and it had pictures of different people. Otherwise, we actually didn't do too much as a family.

"Do you remember your dad ever introducing someone to you?" asks Monica.

I begin to shake my head no, when out of the blue, I do remember someone; someone... who was that?

"I do remember someone, Monica. But I'm not clear on it. I remember being at the CDC, in Dad's office, and a man... a man, a red man. Santa Claus? No, no." I stand, shut my eyes, and bring my hand to my head, tapping it, trying to remember who that was. But I can't recall.

"Damn it! I can't remember! It was a man, a red man... and he was... he was... what the hell? He was what?" I'm so pissed off, I kick the trash can.

"That's okay, John. Don't get stressed over it. Usually things come to mind when you don't think about them," Monica says.

"Sorry. I'm... tired... pissed off... hate..." I look at Monica and see she's just as frazzled as I am. "I'm sorry, Monica. I'm being self-centered and... shit! Everything is so messed up! Okay! Okay! Let me think. Just give me a minute to think," I explain to her.

I sit at my desk, holding my head in my hands, and ask myself, "Who was that man I met years ago?" Suddenly, I remember. "He had an odd name. What was it?" I mutter.

"Are you talking about the red man, John?" Monica asks.

"Yes. He had a really odd name. I've never heard a name like his before. What was his name?" I close my eyes and try to remember some more. "Sag... Cag... Zig...Pic... It's no use. I can't remember. I can only remember he was red, had glasses, was tall, and he gave me a lollipop. Damn, Monica, I was only three or four back then. I couldn't possibly remember his name after all these years."

"John, you've got to try. I'm going to see where Ted is and see what he's doing. I'll come back later and maybe you will have remembered by then. Do you need anything? Coffee? Food?" Monica asks, as she starts to leave.

"No. Thanks. I've got to go and take a walk. I've been cooped up in here all night after a decent night's sleep. Did you rest any last night?"

"Actually, I did. I think it's the most sleep I've gotten since this whole damn nightmare began. Listen, I'll go find Ted and I'll talk to you later."

"Okay, Monica. Thanks."

"Thanks? For what, John?"

"You know. Just... thanks."

She smiles at me and exits my office. I turn my chair around and push open the blinds. It's still snowing and the stragglers still walking around will probably freeze to death by night's end. I release the blinds, turn my chair around, and decide to go to the lab and see if anything new has been discovered. Even though I know there hasn't, or I would've heard about it by now.