Event in Progress

Chapter Twenty-Five

"I have a good memory," he said. "In fact, it's almost photographic. Not quite, you understand. But if I read a book, I can tell you what side of the book a quote was on even if I can't remember the page. It works well for looking up verses in Bible Camp, actually. I may not remember what the citation was, but I know it's on the right hand side at the bottom of the first column. I can usually find it in about ten seconds."

Sean sipped on his Diet Coke they had gotten at the 7-Eleven Nolan always defended from the imaginary soldiers. They sat in the park as the sun dipped toward the horizon. It would still be another couple of hours before the fireworks would go off, but they had staked their claim to the hillside already.

"In fact, just to give you an idea of it, I can still remember when I was six, or maybe seven, years old. We went to Vacation Bible School. Did you ever do that as a kid?"

Christine nodded.

"We went to VBS at the First Baptist Church in Wood Creek. I can still remember what the inside of the church looked like. I was only there for a single week-my family is Presbyterian, see?-and it was over twenty years ago. But I remember the inside and the outside of that church in vivid detail. In fact, if I had any artistic skills, I could draw it for you right now."

Sean took another sip. He swallowed, stared off into space.

"But...I didn't remember my old house. I remembered parts of it, mind you. I remembered the lattice in the windows. And I remember the bird feeder. But I don't remember the house itself.

"I can remember a church I spent one week in as a little kid, but I don't remember that house when I lived there for four years. You might as well have parked in front of a random house."

"Maybe they tore it down and built a new one?" Christine suggested.

Sean shook his head. "No. That was the right one."

"But you said you didn't remember it."

"I don't know how I know," he said. "But I know that was the same house. I just can't...I can't bring it all to mind."

He took another sip of his Diet Coke. "And that's the thing that really scares me, I guess."

"Why's that?"

"If I don't remember my house..." He looked over at her, a puzzled expression on his face again. "What else don't I remember?"

"Maybe nothing."

"No, there's something else there." He leaned back. "That's the problem with Insomniac. There's something that happened that I don't remember. And it couldn't have been just the kids pounding on me because I still remember that." He was talking to himself now, but Christine didn't mind. "What else could it be? Unless..."

His voice stopped. "A shoe."

"Pardon?"

"A Nike to be exact. There was a Nike."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know." But suddenly his voice was fraught with panic. "Christine, my books! It's in my books!" He slapped his forehead suddenly. "Oh God, why didn't I see it before?"

"Sean?"

McKnight blinked and looked at her in horror. "Get away from me!" he screamed suddenly, scrambling back. "No! No! I don't want to! I'm not gay, I'm not, I'm not, I'M NOT FUCKING GAY!"

Christine grabbed him. She wasn't sure if it was the right move under the circumstances, but she didn't have a choice either. "Sean, snap out of it! Sean!"

McKnight blinked, saw the concern in her eyes, and went limp. "You don't want to know me," he muttered. "You don't want to know me at all."

"Tell me what's wrong."

"You can't fix me."

"Sean, just tell me."

"No one can fix me. Just go away."

"Please tell me. Please, Sean. Just tell me."

"Leave me alone!" It was a whispered scream. Christine ignored it.

"No. Sean, I am not going to leave you. Do you understand me? I'm not going to leave you. I'm not going to betray you. You can trust me."

He said nothing. Instead, he turned to the side and vomited his Diet Coke all over the grass. Sobbing, he lay in the grass and felt her arms around his shoulder.

"It's okay, Sean. It's okay."

Oh God how he longed to believe that.