Memories

Scott Francis had just spent the past nine hours on a plane and was trying to figure out the information that was in his possession. He remembered some of the previous day. He remembered the man who dropped him off at the airport. There was the room that was barred shut. Then there were flashes of pictures that were like grey shadows. When Scott tried to recall anything else about himself, there was a dull pain and a lot of blank space.

The packet of papers that he had in his possession were very basic things. It was a birth certificate, a deed to a house, a bank statement, and a master’s degree in the area of communications complete with transcripts. None of these things did he have any recognition of. He was without any memories of anything. And for all that, he knew that he was better off not knowing.

And although it took him what felt like forever to get there, Scott was happy to be home. He walked through the front door and through the envelope onto the armoire. He went into the kitchen and grabbed a glass and a bottle of Scotch before heading to the living room to sit on the sofa. He sipped his drink and looked around the room. He felt as if there was someone else in the room with him. As he looked, he realized that he had no pictures or any items of sentiment in the room.

He left the glass and bottle on the end table before heading to his bedroom. As he walked down the barren hallway, the hair stood on the back of his neck. Once again, he had the eerie feeling of being watched. Scott just shook it off and summed it up to all the travel of the past day. Scott made it to his bed and climbed in, allowing the alcohol to help lessen the stress and strain. With a good night sleep, Scott would be able to figure out what he was going to do next.

When Scott woke, he felt better than he had the previous day. He looked at his phone and looked at the schedule for his day. On his calendar for that morning was an address. He had nothing else listed on his phone. Within the hour, Scott was showered, dressed and out the door, ready to see what this address was all about.

It took Scott twenty minutes to get from his house to the address. It was only a ten-minute drive, but it took an additional ten minutes to locate exactly where the address was. And when Scott made it to the address, he was dumbfounded by what he discovered. On a door was Scott’s name and a job title that puzzled him, “Finder of Information and Lost Things.”

It took another minute to find the correct key for the door, but once inside, things made a little more sense to Scott. The room was tiny on first impression and all that was visible was a desk with a lamp on it. On the left side was a blank wall, but on the right side was a door. Scott went to open the door, but it was locked. He sat down at the desk and started to look through all the drawers, trying to find more information about what this was all about. He also had hoped that there would be a key in a drawer to open the door, but he wasn’t that lucky. Instead, Scott found a large drawer filled with files about lost things, some marked with a rubber stamp, “FOUND.”

Another drawer had items that he could be used to help procure items. Some of those items included picks, cameras, night glasses, random electronics, and a pistol. There were also random phone numbers with no names attached to them. He did find a few keys, but none of them worked on the door.

Scott was ready to leave when he realized he had the key the whole time. When preparing to leave, he grabbed the keys from his pocket. It was then that he saw the key that would open the door. He immediately had butterflies in his stomach in anticipation of the contents of the room which lie beyond. And he was not let down.

Inside the room was what looked like a small warehouse of antiquities, of various sizes and shapes. There were three separate safes. Scott figured that he could just try what felt right to him but that didn’t work. He took a good look around and left the room, making sure to lock it before leaving. One thing that did catch his attention was a post-it note that had an address in Los Angeles. Scott decided book a trip to the states and find out what is at the address listed.

It was a long flight for Scott to get to California, but he made only wanted to get there, find the address location and return home on a flight which was scheduled a few hours after getting to LA. While on the plane, Scott read a book about American Politics which he grabbed from his business before heading to the airport. As soon as he landed, he called for a car and went to the exit to find the sedan.

He gave the driver the address and watched the scenery which felt so comfortable to him. The air was thick and had a scent of sweet burnt rubber. After a twenty-five ride, the car pulled up to suburban house.

“Keep it running, I’ll be only a minute.” Scott said before going up to the door and knocking firmly. He waited a minute and knocked again. Once again there was no answer. He felt like he was here before, but he couldn’t think of why. He knew that there was going to be no answer, but Scott tried one more time and turned to get back to the car.

“You heading back to the airport?” The driver sounded almost as sad as Scott felt.

“Yeah,” Scott responded. Disappointment was apparent in his face. He buried his face into his hands. He maintained this pose until making it to the airport.

Once on the plane, Scott took out his book and began to read. He finished the book after the first hour and then closed his eyes and rested. When the plane landed, Scott woke up and left the plane. He had just spent the past nine hours on a plane and was trying to shake the cobwebs out of he head. He remembered the man who dropped him off at the airport. There was the house that was empty. Then there were flashes of pictures that were like grey shadows. When Scott tried to recall anything else about himself, there was a dull pain and a lot of blank space. He took out his wallet and looked at the address on his identification. Out in front of the airport he gave the address to a driver and headed back home.