SEVENTEEN YEARS

SEVENTEEN YEARS

I remember it…
I remember it like a small child remembers a vivid nightmare.
I remember it…
I must say I was not anticipating what happened,
Nor was I prepared for the big change… that came over my life,
But I remember it…
Remember it as if it happened a week ago…
It has been seventeen years.
The day started out like any other day in summer.
Bright sunshine, Linda preparing breakfast, Lily and Ralph playing in the garden.
I remember it as if it was day before yesterday…
I was reading the newspaper as it predicted a thunderstorm in a few hours…
I remember laughing at it, and sharing the piece of news with Linda… who laughed with me!
I was scheduled to leave for Fresno in an hour.
I hugged the kids, kissed Linda… for the very last time…
I boarded the 10:25 train that left on time…
My spirits were soaring as I was about to sign the biggest contract of my career in Fresno…
In barely a few hours.
It was barely a few minutes…
Before the entire sky was filled up with dark, ominous clouds that reminded me of Lily’s face when she was crying…
I smiled at my own imagination…
The reality would wipe the smile off my face in a few moments…
The thunderstorm that disrupted most parts of California destroyed my life…
Not literally… but effectively so.
The train was derailed off a rickety bridge and two hundred people were killed…
I wasn’t… along with a few others.
As a matter of fact, I had no idea I was on that train…
Or who I was, for that matter…
I found myself on a deserted field… with minor injuries on my head and foot,
Not sure why I was there!
I wandered off from town to town wondering who I was, or where I was from… I daresay there were several ways I could’ve tried to find out who I was…
But I don’t think I tried… I don’t think I tried at all…
I was afraid… afraid who I might turn out to be…
I could be a thief… or a murderer who was dodging the law.
I could be the killer, who killed all his sons…
I could be the husband who beat up his wife…
I was the man who was scared… scared of his plight.
I spent several days begging… then started selling newspapers.
I had a new identity… John B. Wilkins.
I started making money… met a lovely woman whom I married…
And fifteen years later, I was a well-off man with a house in Fresno, a booming business, a beautiful wife and two healthy kids… named Lily and Ralph.
I remember it like it was yesterday…
My wife wanted to attend the funeral of a distant cousin of hers in San Francisco…
I had to go with her… along with my teenaged kids.
The city welcomed me like an old friend, a long-lost friend she dearly missed.
I was fascinated by her, too… she was so familiar to me… I knew her better than the back of my hands…
It was a pity I had to visit the city’s biggest graveyard before enjoying the real Frisco…
But I doubt if I regretted it… after I was there!
The procession of mourners arrived with the body along with a group of people who were there to pay respect to some other departed soul…
I was supposed to mourn… but my gaze transfixed on the second group…
It had a man leading them… who was evidently accompanying a woman who had beads of tears clinging to her eyelashes…
She was followed by two more women, one of whom looked like she was about to cry… the other, much younger, trying to make sure that didn’t happen.
They were followed by a young man who looked… exactly like I did seventeen years ago…
It all came back to me in a flash… Linda… Ralph… Lily… San Francisco…
I couldn’t recognize the other man and the younger girl, but I didn’t care…
With long strides and a hammering heart, I was beside the small group within a few seconds…
The woman… Linda… looked up at me… I could tell she couldn’t recognize me… with my long hair and different features…
I was bursting… I was bursting to tell her that I was her husband… I was Jimmy Roland.
But then… the man accompanying my wife whispered something in her ears… “Honey, do you know this man?”
In an instant, everything became quite clear to me… I glanced at the name on the tombstone and smiled up at the group…
“I came at my wife’s cousin’s funeral. Couldn’t help but notice you all. Haven’t been in Frisco for quite a few years… How are you, Linda, Ralph, Lily?”
We exchanged pleasantries… but the group was still struggling to recognize me.
“Do I know you?” Linda asked me at last, poring into my eyes with her big, blue ones.
“I don’t think so… but I knew your first husband… a long time ago” I took off my hat, put it at the foot of the tombstone, and left.