A Part of Me Remembers

A part of me will always remember that day.

The day I met a true friend.

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"Oh man I think my time's up." The man a seat away from me suddenly sighed while stretching his hands into the air.

"Uhh, are you here to get yourself checked too sir?" I said to him, watching him as he continued his long stretch.

We were the only two people in a long corridor of the hospital. I was there for my regularly scheduled check-up and was waiting for my turn to be called. It was odd that no one else was around though. Usually it would take at least an hour before I was next in line. But it seemed like that we were the only two waiting at the time.

"Oh no, actually as you can see I'm a perfectly healthy specimen of a human being." He said while jokingly flexing his arms.

He looked to be around his early thirties, maybe even around the same age as me if I had to guess.

"So you're getting yourself checked?" He asks while going back to his original sitting position with his legs crossed.

"Oh, yes actually. They called me and told me to rush over so here I am." I answered while glancing at the clock mounted on the wall in front of us. It was broken. The hands were stuck at three fourteen.

There was a momentary silence between us.

"It's taking quite a while isn't it?" The man finally says, breaking the calm.

"It is isn't it? There isn't really anyone but us here so it shouldn't be taking this long."

He agreed with me with a nod.

"By the way," He stretched out his hand. "Paul, Paul Reeds."

"Oh, Wayne Davis." I said, accepting the handshake.

"Nice to meet you Wayne."

"Likewise."

"So if you're not getting checked, why are you here Paul?" I asked, realizing that if he wasn't getting checked then there was no point in him being there.

"Would you believe me if I said I didn't know why I was here either?" He said while scratching his head.

I wasn't expecting that answer so I didn't know how to respond.

"I'm sure there's a reason why I'm here but I think I might've forgotten."

"Really?" I was very doubtful that was the case. "You don't look that old to be suffering from short term memory loss." I joked.

"Why thank you for the compliment." He said while slightly bowing his head. "But I'm not joking, I really have no idea what I'm doing here."

I saw how serious he seemed so I decided to take his word for it.

"Well... If that's the case then shouldn't you be going home or something?"

"Hmm... I don't know, maybe I'll hang around till you get called. Then I'll head out. If that's alright with you."

"That's alright I guess." I thought about how boring it would be if he had left me alone there. No one else seemed to be coming anyways.

"So do you live close by Paul?" I asked, striking a fresh conversation.

"I'm actually just from two towns over. Jacksborough." He answered. "But I've only just recently decided to go back. My family and I have been living in the city ever since I got married."

"Oh but that's still pretty far off." I had been there a few times on account of my company sending me to look for "promising" locations for development. It was about an hour of car ride from where we were and was a pretty picture of a town.

"Now I'm even more curious why you're here and not back at your hometown." I said suggestively.

"I'm just as curious as you are, to be honest." he replied taking the open can of soda beside him and taking a quick sip.

"Oh man, I really love this brand of cola. You know it?" He said while showing me the front of the can. On it were the large fonted letters of "Dr. Cola".

"Oh, uh.. Yeah of course." I awkwardly reply. It was a pretty famous brand of cola so of course I would know. Though I wasn't a big fan of it myself.

"Here you can have this one." He said as he took another can from beside him and handed it to me. I took it out of courtesy and thanked him.

"So what do you do for a living Wayne?" He suddenly asked, resuming the conversation that was sidetracked by his apparent love for Dr. Cola.

"I'm in real estate. Or rather, I was." I corrected as I recalled the fact that I had just recently been fired for performing "below" standards. Whatever the hell that meant. "Me and a ton of others." I continued. I didn't want him to think I was a failure of a person. What else would someone think of a person who got fired. Though I didn't really explicitly say I got fired. I guess it was just my insecurities acting up. "It was the only logical move for them since the company seemed to be on the verge of sinking."

"I see..." He said while seemingly musing over something.

"That's funny because coincidentally I'm jobless as of the moment too." He said with a cheery smile. It kinda annoyed me at first but then as he continued to talk, the more I understood why he could still smile about it.

"I'm a lawyer you see." He started. Hunched and staring at the ground as he spoke.

"I always believed that in life, there would come a point when I was on top while there would be people at the bottom."

"Well I'm not just saying that for myself, I think that's true for everyone."

"So I took it upon myself to become the kind of person on top who helped those at the bottom get a chance at climbing to the top."

"For years I'd been taking up the cases of people who weren't dealt a good hand in life and were still being robbed of that already bad hand."

"It wasn't exactly financially rewarding, so to speak. But me and my family already had more than enough to get by for a good few years. Especially with my wife also out working herself."

"Until recently that's all I've been doing."

"You stopped doing it?" I finally spoke up. Seeing as he seemed to be stuck deep in thought.

He was still silent.

I didn't agree with his way of thinking. He was pretty much saying he was sacrificing himself for the sake of others, and for what? I wasn't up for that kind of martyrdom. And besides, if it was my own hands that got me to that point in life, why should I stretch out that hand to people who could pretty much do the same using their own. He was lucky he even made it to the top. While here I was, barely even making it to the middle, and in an instant, I was back at the bottom. How come no one stretched their hand out to me? The answer was simple: because in order to stand at the top, there had to be someone at the bottom. Those at the top know that trying to carry someone with them to the top is just a burden that puts their own position in jeopardy. That's why I couldn't believe what he was saying.

"Why would you go out of your way to try and be that kind of person?" I asked. Trying to get some sort of clarity with the way he was thinking. But at that point, I was already frustrated just thinking about what his reasoning could possibly be.

He downed the last of his cola and let out a long sigh.

"Do you enjoy living Wayne?" It was a question I never thought I'd be asked.

For some reason I couldn't bring myself answer him.

"I enjoy living." He continued after a moment passed without me answering. "If you think about it, it's the only thing we know how to do."

"So to answer your question, I do it because I think that that way, I can go on living peacefully the life I enjoy."

"But you'd be living more peacefully if you only worried about yourself and your family don't you think so?"

"For a time maybe. Yes. But I never believed that I would always be at the top." He replied. "So you could say I did it for a selfish reason myself."

"In what way can that ever be called selfish? That sounds more like an unnecessary amount of selflessness if you asked me." If anyone knew what selfish meant, it was me. There was no point in helping others if I had nothing to gain.

"The way it works is that I help the people at the bottom, in hopes that when the time comes that our positions become reversed, at least one of them might do the same for me."

That wasn't exactly the answer I was expecting.

"Are you talking about karma?"

"If that's what it sounds like to you, then you could say that."

"How sure are you that any of them would though?"

"It's a gamble." He laughed "But really, what's the fun in gaining if you don't risk a little?"

So he was helping in hopes of being helped in return...

Somehow that made it more relatable to me.

I popped open the Dr. Cola he had given me.

"So what made you decide to stop? You did say you were doing it until recently." I asked the ignored question while taking a sip of the soda.

"Oh that." He said, going into a slouching position. "Well getting fired is probably the simplest answer I could give you. You can't really help when you're in no position to help."

"Do you mind me asking why you got fired?" I felt like I was treading on a more sensitive topic and I didn't want to overstep my bounds.

"If I had to say, bad luck I guess?" He said while letting out a slight laugh yet again. "You can never tell when someone who doesn't agree with the way you think will come out to get you."

"So I'm taking it that someone made you lose your job?"

"You could put it that way." He paused. "Or you could say, I chose to."

"I would never do anything if I thought it went against my beliefs. I chose to be a lawyer because I have my own idea of what's right." The conviction he had towards the things he was saying was evident on his face. "I would rather lose my job than lose my sense of what's right and wrong. Because of that, one thing led to another, and here I am now. Though I can't say I regret anything."

I had a vague idea of what probably happened, but I didn't want to pry too deep into it anymore. I was already satisfied with the fact that I met someone who could actually say the things he said out loud. It was... refreshing to hear.

"How would you like to be remembered as Paul?" I don't know why, but something in me just compelled me to ask him that question.

"Hmm..." He thought about it for a moment. "If I had to say, maybe as a good man?"

"Oh come on, you couldn't get any more vague than that." I complained.

He brushed it off with a laugh.

"If maybe I could change just one person's life for the better. I would hope that that person would at least remember me." His voice went soft. "Just one is good enough."

We both fell silent for a while after that.

And a while later we were back to talking about anything and everything about ourselves.

After a little around an hour had passed and I still wasn't being called, I decided to check out what was happening. "I'll go have a knock and see if they're having some sort of problem inside."

He nodded and closed his eyes, looking prepared to take a nap right there where he sat.

I knocked. Opened the door. And the next thing I knew, I was on a bed. Opening my eyes to an unfamiliar ceiling.

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It was fairly quiet. All I could hear were the beeping sounds of the machine next to me and the low humming of an air conditioner somewhere in the room.

Everything looked hazy and my chest was badly hurting.

I tried moving and looking around. I could see that it was dark outside through a window to my left. When I shifted my focus to my hands, IV catheters were lodged into them.

There didn't seem to be anyone in the room with me.

What happened? Was all I could manage to think.

The last thing I remember was talking to Paul. I couldn't remember anything before or after that.

Just then, some people entered the room. A man in a white coat and a woman in scrubs. A doctor and a nurse.

"How are you feeling Mr. Davis?" The doctor asked me.

"Wh-r- -m I?" I realized there was something attached to my mouth as well.

"You're in the hospital Mr. Davis." He said as he stood beside my bed signaling the nurse beside him to check on some of the equipment. "You underwent a heart transplant operation and have been recovering here for the past two days."

Month? But that couldn't have been possible. I was just...

"P--l?" I struggled to blurt out Paul's name. "P--l R--ds?"

They both looked at each other with puzzled faces.

"What are you trying to say Mr. Davis?" He asked me while bringing himself closer and asking the nurse to remove the object on my mouth.

"Paul Reeds... I was... just talking to... him." I said between struggling breaths.

Their puzzled faces turned into those of shock. The doctor asked the nurse to get something.

"Mr. Davis, how do you know that name?" He asked me with a serious tone. "Did you know Mr. Reeds?"

Did I know him? Of course I did.

"I was... just... talking... to him..."

"I'm sorry Mr. Davis... but that's impossible."

"He's... outside..." I said as I tried to move my hands to point towards the door.

The nurse came back a little while after with a clipboard on hand.

"Mr. Davis, I'm going to show you a picture of someone. Please tell us if you recognize him."

I made a slight nod. The nurse handed the clipboard to him.

"Do you recognize him?"

He turned the clipboard to show me the picture. It was at the upper right corner of the paper that looked to be a profile of sorts. But without a doubt, the man in the picture... was Paul Reeds.

"Yeah... that's him..."

"And you say that you were just having a conversation with him?" He asked me with a serious tone.

I nodded again.

The doctor looked at the clipboard for a good few seconds. I could tell he wanted to say something.

"Mr. Davis... Paul Reeds passed away in a vehicular accident three months ago..."

Huh? That wasn't possible...

"He was headed for his hometown of Jacksborough when along the way his vehicle lost control... and collided with an oncoming trailer truck."

No that doesn't sound right.

"The place of the accident was nearby so he was brought here. But unfortunately..."

My chest suddenly felt tighter. I struggled to breathe and my body was getting numb.

“I understand that you might have more questions Mr. Davis, but I think it’s best if you rest for now. We can continue some other time.”

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“It was thanks to Mr. Reeds that you were able to receive the heart transplant at the last possible minute.”

Those words kept repeating in my head as I sat in front of Paul.

They didn’t believe me when I said I had never met him until the day before I woke up.

Of course they wouldn't. I couldn’t believe it myself. But sure enough, everything I knew about Paul Reeds added up. I knew his name, the town where he lived, his profession, his family, and even the purpose for which he lived his life.

“I guess you got what you wanted Paul.” I whispered. Talking to the stone on which his name was etched.

“I don’t know if everything we talked about was real or not. And honestly, it doesn't even matter.”

“But if it was truly what you wanted, I promise you…”

“I will be that one person who will never forget.”

As I say those words, I take out a can of Dr. Cola, and set it among the flowers laying there.

“Don’t they know you’d prefer having this than a bunch of flowers?” I joke as I open a can of my own. And holding it up ceremoniously I declare:

“A part of me will always remember you Paul Reeds.”

“And for that, I couldn’t be more grateful.”