Memories Are Made of This

  If there’s one thing Astea DelMonte loves, it’s casual walks in the woods. The fresh air and freedom clear her head, and the walks also help fulfill her commitment as Chairperson for the town’s neighborhood watch.

Her favorite section is a clearing with tall trees and a thick floor of pine needles called Sunspot. Astea has spent many hours in Sunspot lying against a fallen log, listening to the birds chirp as she contemplates how to kill her neighbor’s dog.

The sound of bushes and leaves rustling catches Astea’s attention.

Something steps onto the path ahead of her.

It turns. Screaming, Astea runs away, leaving the apparition staring at her.

Police Corporal Gary Grodd pounds the steering wheel of his unmarked car.

The war changed everything…

Sergeant Gary Grodd of the Imperial Army looks over the top of the trench. A bullet buries itself in the mud in front of him. Another zings by his helmet.

He turns to look at Company B, who share the same hollow-eyed look of doubt.

“Is it clear?” Captain Neil Darvish asks.

Gary grits his teeth as a shell hits nearby, spraying them with mud.

…How could the Captain send Ethan back for reinforcements instead of me?... Gary wonders. Ethan gets all the breaks…It should have been me!

“Sergeant?” Captain Darvish calls out.

“It’s right as rain, sir,” Gary replies.

“CHARGE!”

The men spring from the trench. Half are immediately cut down. Gary starts to climb upward then freezes. Sliding back into the trench he covers himself with the coat of a dead comrade.

The only surviving member of Company B, Sergeant Gary Grodd is promoted to Lieutenant and deemed a hero.

“Drink your coffee,” Officer Bekka Fiacco says, patting Astea DelMonte on the hand.

“And slow down for chrissakes,” Gary adds.

Astea’s high-pitched voice drills into his skull. “He was tall, maybe six feet four. He was wearing a boilersuit and a cloak.”

“What color were they?” Bekka asks.

“Black…Maybe dark blue. And he was wearing a gas mask that covered his whole head.”

“You’re not sampling the mushrooms in the woods, are you, Astea?”

“You were a funny-looking, arrogant punk when you were a kid, Grodd. Becoming a hero blew your ego up to the size of a blimp. Five years on the force in your hometown and you’re still malicious and lazy. You have to find this man before he hurts someone.”

“How do you know he’s dangerous? I thought you said you couldn’t see his face.”

“I couldn’t, but evil is something you feel as well as see.”

“Should I make up a case file?” Bekka asks.

“No. All he did was give an old busybody a scare.”

“A man straight out of a steampunk novella is lurking in the woods and you want to slough it off?”

“It could be some kid playing around, maybe somebody sensitive to light, even a survivalist. We only have four officers. The townspeople of Good Grief won’t appreciate it we’re out chasing ghosts when we should be directing traffic.”

The unmarked police cruiser pulls up behind the battered late-model Buick.

“The call said the car was abandoned. It looks like somebody’s in it,” Gary points out.

Drawing their weapons, Gary and Bekka creep toward the driver’s side of the car.

The man inside is slumped over the wheel.

Gary bangs on the window, bringing the driver around.

Licking his dry lips, the bleary-eyed, shaggy-haired man lowers the window.

“Did you spend the night here, Petey?” Gary asks, sheathing his gun.

“Guess so.”

“I could bang you for public intoxication, you know.”

“Aw, c’mon, Gary. I was just drowning my sorrows.”

“You’ve been doing it for five years. You need to either sink or swim,” Gary says.

“My brother, your best friend, was the last man killed in the war,” Petey Chadwick wails.

“Here we go again…”

“The war that made you a hero. My brother was probably dying while the ink was drying on the surrender treaty.”

“I’m sorry I sent him out on that last mission.”

“Two people died that day, Ethan and Alexis,” Petey laments. “You said Alexis left town when you told her Ethan was dead. That’s not like her, she wouldn’t just run away. We never heard from her again, not even an email.”

“I know. She was lost without your brother. She was living in the past and needed a fresh start, so she ran. You need to start living in the present too. And there are better ways to honor Ethan than drinking until you pass out.”

“Maybe I can do something to make the town of Good Grief remember him,” Petey says.

“Fine. Go and get cleaned up and sober up,” Gary says walking away.

Petey winks at Bekka as she turns to leave. She gives him an understanding nod.

Back at the station, Bekka takes a moment to try on a cape and a top hat.

“Giving the gas mask man some competition?” Gary asks.

“I’m going to be the magician for next week’s veteran’s celebration. Say, aren't you supposed to be the Grand Marshal for the parade?”

“I turned it down.”

“But you’re the local war hero,” Bekka says.

“I don’t want to think about the past right now.”

“Why not?”

“It feels like it’s catching up to me.”

Gary casts a doubting look across the table in the interrogation room at the teenage couple.

Lisa Marconi, a petite, dewy-eyed blonde, holds onto her husky boyfriend, Dylan Anthony. Dylan tries to put on a brave face but is equally shaken up.

Bekka looks over her notes. “What else can you tell me about the man in the woods?”

“He was picking flowers,” Lisa adds. “And he sang a really old song, One my grandpa used to sing to me when I was a baby.”

“Do you recall what it was?” Gary asks.

“He sang something about memories.”

“Was it ‘Memories Are Made of This?’”

“Yeah, how’d you know?” Lisa asks.

“One of the guys who wrote that song was born here. Everybody in the bar played it to death on the jukebox. It was one of my friend's favorite songs,” Gary says, picturing Alexis Castle.

“What did the man do when he saw you?” Bekka asks. “Did he come after you?”

“No, he didn’t follow us,” Dylan answers. “For a second, he stood there looking kinda sad, like he wanted something.”

Bekka meanders along the wooded path, reaching Sunspot. Pine needles cover the ground and a nearby fallen log beckons her to rest for a spell.

Bekka is about to give in when she notices a bunch of flowers propped against the log. Picking them up, Bekka notices the care that was taken to arrange them.

She hears the bushes rustle but dismisses it to the passing breeze.

A large figure appears on the path ahead of her, staring at her. She cautiously puts the flowers back on the ground.

The figure turns, walking away.

A melodic voice sings, “…Memories are made of this…”

Bekka reaches for her phone, quietly snapping a picture of the cloaked figure as it walks away.

“Still think it’s an old woman’s imagination?” Bekka asks.

Looking at the photo, Gary responds, “Maybe it’s Big Foot.”

“I would think a hero stuck in a sleepy burg would salivate over a case like this.”

“That’s just it. There is no case. He still hasn’t done anything. Did you bring the flowers?”

“I left them there out of respect.”

“Respect for what? For who?” Gary asks.

“Isn’t it whom? Anyway, I took a picture,” Bekka says, showing it to Gary.

“Orchids.”

Gary looks at the photo on his desk of Ethan, Alexis, and himself at the Bosun’s Bar taken the week before he and Ethan were shipped to the front. Ethan and Gary look smart in their tight-fitting uniforms. Alexis poses between them, her long black hair draped down to her waist, her emerald eyes, and perfect smile lighting up the picture. She holds a bouquet of orchids in her arms.

“Thank you for the flowers, Ethan. “They’re very thoughtful.”

The shy, dark-haired, twenty-one-year-old GQ handsome soldier blushes, his dimples showing.

“I’d have brought you roses, but I didn’t want to embarrass my boy,” Gary interjects, brushing his finger across his thin mustache.

Alexis smirks. “See, that’s the difference between you and Ethan. He took the time to find out what my favorite flowers are. You’d buy me roses just because they’re expensive.”

Gary throws his hands up in mock frustration. “So, what’s the matter with that? I’m still in the running, aren’t I?”

“Not exactly,” Alexis replies, waving her hand in front of Gary’s face.

Gary’s astonishment grows as he focuses on the immense diamond ring.

“We’re going to get married when Ethan comes back from the war. So, your job is to protect your best friend and bring Ethan home in one piece.”

“I was thinking three or four. That way he might fit better in my duffle bag.”

Alexis rises from the table. “You’re such a joker, Gary. You boys play nice until I get back.”

Gary watches Alexis walk off.

“She was my girl first,” Gary growls.

“But she’s mine last,” Ethan returns calmly. “Am I such a bad choice?”

“Memories Are Made of This” begins playing on the jukebox.

Gary inhales deeply. “No. You’re right for her. You’re going to be a lawyer. I’ll end up a civil servant. Maybe a cop, or a fireman, but most likely a garbage man. I’ll admit it - you’ve been faithful, and you love Alexis, while I’ve had a new girl every other day and I still don’t know what love is. But you haven’t walked down the aisle with her yet.”

“You’ve always been competitive, Gary. Relax. The way the war is going, they’ll send us back before we even reach the front. Then you can pretend you’re a hero and snag any girl in town.”

“I’ve already made my choice,” Gary says under his breath.

Seven months later, Sergeant Ethan Chadwick stands at attention in the Imperial Army’s headquarters in front of Lieutenant Gary Grodd.

“Permission to speak freely?”

“Granted. Just remember Sergeant, I outrank you now.”

“You’ve been on me ever since you made Lieutenant.”

“Maybe I’m enjoying being top dog for once,” Gary replies.

“The details about how you became the sole survivor of the battle change every time you tell the story. Makes me wonder how much of what you say is true.”

“I told you to mind your manners, Sergeant.”

“You can bring home a chest of medals. It won’t change how Alexis feels about you. We’re engaged. You’re her party animal friend, her immature, rambunctious brother. You can’t be her husband, or anyone else’s for that matter.”

“We’ll see, Sergeant. I’ve got a mission for you and two men.”

“The war is supposed to be over in a few hours, Gary.”

“In the meantime, I need you to take a sensitive document to General Marshall. They’re our plans for our next offensive. If you make it, I’ll make sure you’re shipped home to Alexis right away. And you’ll be a war hero, just like me.”

Ethan watches his fellow soldiers die as a cloud of poisonous gas wafts through the trench they’re hiding in.

Their faces turn blue as they let out their last gasp.

Ethan stretches his mask over his face, He inches his way out of the trench into the surrounding darkness.

Four enemy soldiers point their rifles at him.

“Haven’t you heard, boys? The war is over,” Ethan jokes.

“Yes, for you.”

“Video call for you, Lieutenant,” Raphael Tesla, the squad’s communications coordinator, says. “It’s Colonel Kruge from the Rebel army.”

Karl Kruge, the Rebel’s most ruthless commander, stares into the screen, determination etched in his scarred features.

A man wearing a boilersuit and a gas mask sits in a chair in front of Kruge, a noose tied around his neck.

“Testing me, Grodd? You sent three men carrying blank sheets of paper into the middle of our territory hoping to distract me. Unfortunately, the two other lemmings you sent on your fool’s mission suffocated. It will be worse for this one if you do not agree to my terms. Are you ready to sacrifice this last soldier? He is a hero. He shot three of my best men before we captured him. He tells me you are his best friend. I will return him if you send my son back to me.”

“Go get the Colonel’s son,” Gary whispers to Tesla.

Gary silently hopes to himself that Ethan is not the man in the mask and that he is already dead, which will make his decision easier.

Tesla returns moments later with a basket.

“Well, do you agree?” Kruge asks.

“We don’t negotiate with terrorists.”

“I want my son.”

“You do? Show Colonel Kruge his son, Raphael.”

Opening the basket, Tesla holds up a severed head.

Kruge lets out an anguished, mad cry.

“Murderer! It is a shame a decent man must pay for the sins of a monster.”

Kruge pulls the gas mask off, revealing Ethan.

“Save me, Gary,” he says. “For Alexis’ sake.”

Kruge and his men pull on the rope, yanking Ethan toward the ceiling.

Ethan’s legs kick wildly as his lungs desperately search for air.

Gary closes his eyes, trying to forget his best friend’s look of betrayal…

…Gary stands in the clearing, memories flooding his mind.

Reaching down, he picks up a bouquet.

“Orchids. Freaking orchids,” he says throwing them down.

His ears perk up when he hears someone singing, “Memories Are Made of This.”

Gary turns, facing the man in the gas mask.

The man stares at Gary, tilting his head like someone who’d been hanged.

“Come for payback, eh, Ethan? Yeah, I knew Kruge would kill you whether there was a peace treaty or not. With you out of the way, I thought Alexis would be so grief-stricken that she’d turn to me for comfort…”

…Alexis opens the door, deflating when she sees Gary instead of Ethan.

“Can I come in?”

“I’m a little busy trying to find, Ethan. You should have come home together. Where is he?”

“Ethan was a good soldier. He volunteered for one final mission…”

Alexis stares at Gary, slipping into shock.

“…Don’t say it… Don’t tell me he’s dead!”

“I’m sorry, Alexis. If there’s anything I can do to help, just say it. I still want to be your friend.”

Gary reaches out to hold her.

“Please, don’t.”

“Too soon?”

“Of course, it is you lummox. You waltz in here, tell me the man I love is dead, then you make a pass at me.”

“We were close once. I was hoping we could be again.”

“We were only close in your imagination. You were nothing but a third wheel, who should have gone his way long ago. I understood why you were envious. Ethan had a family; you grew up without a dad. Ethan was the captain of the football team, and a Regent’s student, while you blocked for him, and barely had a C average. You wore leather, talked tough, and chased girls, but all of that only made you look like a bigger jerk. What little cool you had, you got from hanging out with Ethan. But he outgrew you. He only kept you around because he pitied you.”

Grabbing Alexis by the shoulders he shakes her until she begs for him to stop.

“Pity? I wasn’t good enough for you! All that time you were laughing at me behind my back! You were my girl first and he stole you!”

“I was never your girl, Gary. We had one date and parted with a handshake.”

“And I’ve loved you ever since. Now that Ethan’s gone, we can be together.”

“For all I know, you could be the reason he didn’t come home to me. I’m not your property, Gary. I make my own choices, and I choose to be alone rather than spend another minute with you.”

Breathing heavily, his hands balled up into fists, Gary closes in on Alexis.

“I’m going to make you forget there ever was an Ethan Chadwick.”

…Gary looks down at the scattered orchids.

“Yes, I killed her. I made it look like suicide. And I made sure I was the investigating officer. But you know that, otherwise, you wouldn’t be here.’

The man in the gas mask moves toward him.

His hand shaking, Gary reaches for his gun.

“Heart attack? Petey asks, looking down at Gary’s body.

“He was a coward to the end. He shot himself,” Bekka replies. “Do you think he knew we were working together?”

“Nah. He was never too bright,” Petey says. “We can thank Ethan for his help from beyond the grave. If Ethan hadn’t sent me a message before his final mission, I would have believed he died in combat. He made it clear he was being betrayed. He said: ‘If I die or Alexis dies before I get home, Gary was behind it.’”

“When I saw Alexis’ autopsy photo, I knew there was no way she’d killed herself,” Bekka notes. “Gary forgot she was left-handed and put the gun in the wrong hand.”

Bekka glances at the boilersuit outfit and goggles that Petey is holding.

“Dispose of that stuff, pronto.”

“I’ll be more than happy to get rid of those shoe lifts. I never realized how tall Ethan was until I had to pretend to be him and try to walk with those things on. Nice touch,” he adds, pointing at the flowers.

“I didn’t leave them. I thought you did.”

The bushes ahead of them rustle.

A tall figure in a trench coat comes out of the brush, walking onto the path.

The man in the gas mask turns, looking at them through his black, impenetrable goggles.

The figure dissipates as a melodic voice sings, “…Memories are made of this..."