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Forgetting August(97)

By:J. L. Berg


I didn’t say a thing, just kept my eyes trained on him. No need to give up all my cards at once.

“No greeting? No words of welcome for your old buddy and partner Trent?”

So this was the guy that had been blowing up my phone for the last several weeks. The troublemaker my attorney had mentioned. He was a persistent little shit.

“You called a few times,” I said absently, baiting him for more information.

“Well, what the hell was I supposed to do, August? You’re released from the hospital and never bother to call? For months? I have to find out from our fucking attorney that you’re up and walking around. Do you know how that makes me look? How that makes us look?”

“I can’t imagine.”

Because, really—I honestly couldn’t. But it was nice of him to visit me in the hospital. Oh wait…

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he roared, stepping into my space, his voice filled with venom and ire. “Do you think this is all some sick joke? You did seem to think the world revolved around you, didn’t you? Well, let me tell you something, asshole—it doesn’t. While you were taking an extended siesta, the rest of us were busting our fucking asses, and it’s time you pay your dues.”

Dues? Suddenly something clicked into place as memories and conversations aligned. Everly had once said I’d quit my job because of an old fraternity brother, although she’d never mentioned his name. She’d said that after I went to work for him, I was never the same.

No words of welcome for your old buddy and partner Trent?

Shit.

No matter how far I reached, it seemed the glaring truth of my past would always find me, no matter what I did with my new life.

“Look—Trent, is it?” I said, beginning the opening line to the speech I’d delivered time and time again to the elite crowd of lawyers and businessmen I’d associated with so long ago. Once they discovered the August of old was dead and buried, now hidden beneath layers of amnesia with little to no hope of being found, they usually moved on quickly. The new August, who spoke of photography instead of stock portfolios and who would rather hike instead of attend a gala function, was nowhere near their speed, and even though I had the money, I wasn’t worth the time.

And I was just fine with that.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Trent lashed out, his words like talons directed solely at me.

“I don’t know who you are, but if you let me explain myself, it might clear some things up,” I said calmly, before proceeding. I told him everything.

Well, mostly everything. I told him the reader’s digest version, including the mugging, my coma, and the resulting loss of memory.

“So you have no memory of anything?” he asked, seeming almost dumbfounded by the news. Almost.

“Nothing before that night; no.”

“I’m sorry, man.” His bent head shook, as if he felt pity for me.

“It’s okay. You didn’t—” I stopped myself as I watched his shoulders begin to shake. My mind couldn’t process what my eyes were seeing until his gaze met mine and I heard it.

Laughter.

He was laughing. At my pain, at my suffering and all the loss I’d endured.

“You misunderstood, buddy. I wasn’t apologizing for your misfortune. I was apologizing because things are about to get a hell of lot worse.”

My expression hardened as my fists tightened. “How’s that, buddy?” I asked, throwing the familiar term back in his face.

“See, you and I have a partnership. It’s one of those things that works a lot like marriage—a ‘’til death do us part’ type of thing—not that I’ve tried that particular thing out—too many fish in the sea and all. But I’ve heard it works the same way. And well, here’s the thing. You’re not dead.”

I got up into his face, close enough to see the whites of his teeth as his cold, vicious smile reflected back at me. “In case you weren’t listening, let me give you the abbreviated version so your little brain can comprehend it. I don’t remember a goddamned thing about my former life, including but not limited to a so-called partnership with you. So forgive me if I’m not jumping up and down at the idea, but I think I’ll decline.”

“Jesus, you really are a total blank, aren’t you?” he said, stepping back, his eyes wide with curiosity. “Amazing. For a second I thought you were just playing me, but there really is nothing of you left. Just nothing.”

“Now do you understand?” I asked, glaring at him.

“Yes. I understand perfectly,” he smiled widely, rubbing his hands together. “It’s time to get to work.”