The Life and Times...............

Doug pulled into the parking lot of the Cuyahoga County public library, “Great, a parking spot” he thought to himself. Since the library had lifted the COVID restrictions and allowed folks to come into the building, business at this branch was booming. As he grabbed his ever-present messenger bag he ran through his shopping list. “A couple of movies, maybe a documentary, I want to see what they have on Winston Churchill….,” his thought trailed off as he was distracted by an attractive young lady leaving the building. 

Doug smiled and nodded at Grace, his favorite checkout lady, as he passed the customer service desk. Always ready with a suggestion or a quick book review, he enjoyed the times he could chat for a few minutes with her when checking out. Her line of people waiting to check out precluded any small talk today so Doug headed straight to the DVD section. “Well, let’s see,” he pondered. John Wick 2, The Punisher, that should do it for the “shoot-‘em-up” flicks. He grabbed a documentary on the South  Pacific Islands and headed to the bookshelves.

Finding the biography section Doug skimmed through the shelves until he found the section for the C’s. “Churchill, Walking with Destiny” was what he was looking for. Way down on the bottom shelf, there it was. Doug was afraid it might not have been there. He usually reserved the books he wanted for pickup at the drive-up window but didn’t bother today. “My lucky day,” he thought. As he pulled it from the shelf he noticed a new book sticking out of the row a couple of books down from the Churchill book. Bright red, it was missing the usual clear plastic cover all library books wore. Bright red, it even had bright red edge-painting on the pages. Doug tucked the Churchill book under his arm and pulled the red book out from the shelf.

“The Life and Times of Douglas Church,” it read. “What in the world,” Doug thought. He had never heard of anyone with his name famous enough to have their own book. He thought he had a great-great-uncle or something who was a football coach at NYU once, but he wasn’t sure. “Ah, what the heck, I’ll check it out when I get home,” he told himself. He slipped the red book next to his Churchill book and headed to the checkout. 

“You do have violent tastes in movies,” she quipped as she got ready to scan his Churchill book, “but I like your tastes in history.” Doug handed her the red book. “What an unusual book, it’s not covered, and it has no ISBN number, where was this,” she asked. Doug told her it was right next to the Churchill book. “I wonder if this is someone’s personal book that got here by accident,” she gave the book a puzzled glance. “I really should put it in the lost and found, but if you wanted to look at it for a few days, I guess that would be OK. Could you promise to bring it back in a couple of days,” she asked.

“Sure thing,” he smiled and put the books and DVDs in his bag. As he headed to his car his tummy started to growl. “Dang, I shoulda had breakfast,” he thought, “well; Five Guys is right up the street.” Climbing into his car, he tossed his bag on the passenger seat. The red book slid out onto the floor. As he picked it up he thought “Let me take a quick peek”

The binding was very stiff, obviously a brand new book. The first few pages were blank as always, but there was no publisher’s page, no copyright date, no author’s dedication, not even the author’s name. Very strange. Doug kept turning the pages, “Ah, chapter one,” he thought as he finally reached the printed page. Doug figured he could read a few pages and then head down the street to the burger joint. 

As Doug started to read, the hair on the back of his neck began to rise. The sights and sounds of the parking lot faded. Doug had a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach. His hand began to shake.

Born in 1981 in Cleveland, Ohio. Names of his parents. His sister’s name. Description of his childhood home in Medina, Ohio. The arrival of his brother. THIS WAS HIS BIOGRAPHY! He kept reading. It was all there! Everything. Breaking his leg as a little kid. Elementary school, Junior High School, playing football in high school, it was all there.        Everything was there, in the book. His hunger forgotten, he kept reading. It was as if someone had written a documentary of his life. His trials, his tribulations, his pains, and his joys. His hopes and his dreams. It was all in the book. Somehow forty years had been packed into this little book. 

The motion of someone passing by his car broke his reverie. This was crazy. This could not be. How could all his past be recorded, even his thoughts. As he brought his attention back into the real world, he noticed he was only halfway through the book. He had just read the part where he was happy to be able to use the library again. This book has brought me to the present, but it goes on. What is it going to tell me? He turned his attention back to the book. He read of how after his trip to the library he went to Five Guy's burger place for something to eat. His skin began to crawl as he read of how as he made the left turn into the restaurant a tractor-trailer ran a red light and smashed into his car. His blood ran cold as he read of how the accident left him a paraplegic, confined to a wheelchair for the rest of his life. The book slipped from his grasp as he was overcome with emotion.

“What in the……….” He couldn’t read anymore. He had never felt so apprehensive, so strange, so completely bewildered. Books cannot tell the future, but this one told every detail of the past. This book knew things of his past he had forgotten. Could it know of things in the future he had not yet remembered? He could not read anymore. At least not for a while. His hunger reared its head again. “Alright, let’s get something to eat.” He started his car and pulled out of the library parking lot. He reached over and tucked the red book back into the bag. “I sure as hell am not going to Five Guys,” he thought.

Instead of turning left to go to Five Guys, he turned right and headed east on Bagley Rd. Lunch at “The Crystal Keg” it is today. His favorite little dive bar, he could get the weekend wing special and perhaps read a little more of that accursed book if the jukebox wasn’t too loud. How could that book exist? The book was like a condensation of his life, but he was not sure what the second half of the book would read like. He was still shaken by the story he had read of his accident and its aftermath.

Pulling into the parking lot of The Keg, he didn’t see any cars he knew belonged to any of the regulars he liked to hang out with. Just as well, he wasn’t really in the mood to talk sports and cars. He went in, ordered his beer and wings, and sat down in a booth to enjoy his long-delayed lunch. He reached into his bag and pulled out the red book. It seemed warm in his hand. He had bookmarked the part where he had left off. He took a sip of his beer and opened the book lying on the table. As he started to read a chill came over him. Gone was any mention of Five Guys. No mention of paraplegics and horrible car wrecks. No tractor-trailers were running red lights and committing mayhem. The story went on about him heading to The Keg for lunch. 

As Doug was getting ready to continue reading a commotion at the bar caught his attention. When he had walked in he saw a guy who was a semi-regular sitting at the bar with a woman. He had chatted with the guy a few times, but not often. He didn’t know the woman he was sitting with, but it was obvious the guy knew her well and was trying to get to know her even better.

A woman had come storming in the door of the bar, visibly enraged and looking for a fight. “You son of a bitch,” she screamed. The guy spun around with a look of sheer terror on his face. “I finally caught you two,” she shrieked as she reached into her jacket pocket. A string of obscenities burst forth from the offended woman as she pulled a pistol from her jacket pocket. The wandering husband never stood a chance. His wife put several rounds into him immediately. As he dropped to the floor, his girlfriend took off towards the door. Unfortunately, she passed in front of Doug as the offended wife let off the rest of her magazine.

It felt as if Doug was back in the ring sparring with his old buddy Frank. Three solid blows on the left side, right on the bottom of the rib cage. Doug instantly knew what the blows were. It was very hard to take a breath. He felt as if his heart was going burst from how fast it was beating. He was sitting hunched over the table with his elbows supporting him. The room was growing dim. He was experiencing the classic tunnel vision he had read about. His eyes fell to the red book. He had just turned the page from reading about where he walked into The Keg and ordered lunch. He was starting to read about what would happen next when the shit hit the fan. As he gazed at the page, the print began to fade. Slowly the page blurred and faded. The neat rows of Times New Roman receded into nothing. Doug felt cold. Tracy the barmaid ran up to him. “Doug, Doug, you OK?” Doug laid his head on the table. He was so tired. He would finish the book later. He hoped the words would come back. He wanted to know what they said.

As the crime lab techs gathered up all the things they thought they needed, they came upon Doug’s book. The tech picked it up, “Look at this Judy, the front half of this book is printed, but the back half is blank. Strange way to make a book.” He slipped the red book into the evidence bag.