Chapter Text
Sophie Walten wasn’t quite sure what triggered her episode, but she knew she was in a ball on the floor of the canned goods aisle. Her palms were sweaty and her legs shook as she couldn’t seem to remove the unknown mass of terror in her chest. Her mouth was dry. Her head was pounding. Whatever terrorized her in her youth was going to get her again, and she wouldn’t even know because she couldn’t fucking remember what it was. All she knew was that she felt sick. So sick. She tried to calm her breathing, but the lump in her throat wouldn’t go away. Sophie heard a man’s voice next to her. He spoke quietly, though not quite in a whisper, with a low and even tone. Sophie would have considered it a nice voice, had she been able to think about anything else.
“Would you like to leave?” She nodded frantically. Her eyes were shut tight, but she could already picture all the stares she was receiving. “I’m going to help you stand.” Sophie shut her eyes tight as she felt the hand on her arm. She hoped he was a kind stranger. “Take a deep breath. Are you ready?” She shook her head. “Alright, up we go.” Sophie stood with the man, his grip on her arm was firm enough that she stayed standing even as her legs wobbled. Her eyes remained shut so tight she felt the pressure in her skull. “I know it’s hard, but try to look around a bit. It helps more than you’d think.” Sophie opened her left eye first, darting around the store before she opened her right. Sophie took note of the checkered blue and white floor. The man next to her was wearing brown dress shoes that looked older, but seemed well taken care of next to her beat up white converse. Sophie was no shrimp, but he probably towered over her if his legs were anything to go by. They paused, and she watched his other arm move to pick up a can. She noticed a tarnished gold band on his ring finger. “Would you like something?” She nodded, and shoved her hand in her pocket to pull out a spare dollar. She held it out to him. He waved his hand dismissively, and pulled another of the same soda from the fridge. She eyed it as he handed it to the cashier. Cola. A safe choice. She shook the dollar again, she couldn’t let a stranger pay for her. That would just be rude. If he noticed, he pretended he didn’t, and handed the cashier a card. Sophie huffed and shoved the crumpled dollar back into the pocket of her blue varsity jacket. She wondered if the cashier was judging her, but tried to shake the thought from her head.
“I-I could have paid for it. It’s the right, um, right thing to do.” Sophie’s words shook along with the rest of her. This was so shitty. She couldn’t even do something as simple as buy groceries without relying on other people. Everyone in there probably thought of her as some dumb kid.
“You’re polite, but I don’t mind.” Sophie watched as he took a sip of his drink. His other hand seemed restless. His thumb rolled against his finger quickly. She wondered if it was a disorder or just a nervous tick, but she didn’t think to ask. Suddenly, the man spoke. “Do you know what caused all that anxiety?” People in a small town like Brighton weren’t super educated on problems like hers. It was a bit of a shock he could tell. Sophie shook her head.
“Nope. I can’t remember.” Sophie looked up at him quickly, just enough to catch his expression. She noticed an odd look in his eye.
“Do you often have trouble with memory?” She nodded. “Ah, it seems we’ve both been burned by the same mistress.” He nudged her arm with his elbow.
“So you mean-“
“There’s a diner in walking distance, would you like to sit and talk? I’m sure we both have very interesting stories to tell.” Sophie knew which diner he was talking about. Miss May’s was a mediocre breakfast place nearby that did burgers around lunchtime. Walking distance was an understatement, the place was quite literally across the street. “I’ve got a bit of a ring in my ear,” he added. “It’d be easier to hear you with less… traffic.” He gestured toward the cars running back and forth. She figured he was taking pity on her, which she usually hated. Unfortunately, right now pity was the only thing she had. Sophie nodded again, and before she knew it, they were seated in the diner.
The waitress appeared at the table before either of them could be the one to break the silence. She seemed young, with frazzled hair and had a thick accent that Sophie couldn’t quite place.
“Cute. I love seeing family spend time together. Can I get you two anything?” He thought to correct her, but figured he shouldn’t tell a stranger’s business.
“Yes, may I have a…” The man glanced at the menu. “A cheddar cheeseburger, no pickles please, and a butterscotch milkshake?”
“Fries or onion rings?”
“Onion rings, please.” He closed the menu. “Would you like anything?”
Sophie looked up at the man for the first time. What a weird coincidence. “The…same thing, actually. But, um, an m&m milkshake instead, please.”
“Of course, sweetpea. I’ll be back before you know it.” Sophie gave her a polite smile.
“I hope you don’t mind about the waitress, I figured it was a bit of a complicated story to explain to a stranger.” The man had a very formal way of speaking, which almost didn’t fit the subtle rasp in his voice.
“I didn’t mind. I wouldn’t have been able to explain it to her anyhow.” Sophie shuffled awkwardly in her seat. He seemed kind enough, but something about the man made Sophie feel very small under his gaze. “I seem to have a knack for getting myself into complicated situations.” She took a sip of the cola again. She realized she hadn’t had much to drink at all today, or eat for that matter.
“Well,” He offered. “‘Complicated situations’ like ours deserve full attention, don’t they?” He put the first words in quotations before continuing to fidget with the pen in his hand. Sophie figured there’s no better person to tell your secrets than a stranger. Besides, he didn’t feel like a stranger to her anyway, though she couldn’t put her finger on why.
“It isn’t much of a story. Apparently I saw…something, I guess, that messed me up really bad when I was a teenager. I blocked it all out, apparently, and everything that had to do with it.” Sophie paused. “But… afterwards I was a mess, so they put me on these pills to calm me down, but they make me forget even more.” Her words shook. “I hate them. So, so much. They make me dizzy, and sleepy, and no matter how hard I try to remember even the good bits, it’s all blurry.” Her eyes stung, but she continued. “I don’t even remember my parents. I don’t know if I ever had any family at all. I mean, I know I did but now it’s all just… lost.” The man in front of her listened quietly, nodding his head every so often. Sophie glanced up at his expression. He looked pained, more than she even expected him to, and he leaned forward.
“You...” He began, but the words didn’t want to come out. “You didn’t deserve any of what happened. I’m sure that your family loves you so much, no matter what.” Sophie looked at the man and sniffed.
“But anyway, it’s fine. Can’t miss what you don’t remember, I guess.” She knew it was a lie, but it was one that made her feel a little better. She took a breath.
“I disagree.” He said, and all at once Sophie had felt seen and understood for the first time.
“Order up! Two cheddar cheeses, hold the pickles, with onion rings! Oh, right!” She placed the two milkshakes on the table. “There you go, I’ll be back to check in a minute.” The two muttered thank-yous before she walked off. Silently, they switched the milkshakes across to each other. Sophie took a sip of hers, eyes wide at the stranger-turned-kindred spirit in front of her. He sighed.
“I was around my 40s, about ten years ago, when they found me in the middle of Florida, near Disney World of all places. Apparently, I was mumbling about roses and rabbits and all sorts when the ambulance came to get me.” He stopped for a moment. “Usually, I attempt to… cover them up. But I was hurt terribly. Most of them are covered, but look.” Sophie turned her gaze to the man for the first time. He lifted his long, salt-and-pepper curly hair up and out of his face. Sophie almost immediately noticed the white line that portruded from the man’s skin just under his hairline. “That was the worst one. Whatever happened to me was done by someone intentionally, and they…” He flinched. Sophie watched him tap until his eyes opened again. • • • - - - • • •.
“Are you okay?” Her brows furrowed. That was the look of somebody trying to remember something. She knew it well.
“Excuse me, that usually doesn’t happen.” He paused. “I ended up at the bottom of the ledge, it’s a surprise I lived at all. They said the fall damaged a lot.”
“Is that how you lost your memory?” The man nodded.
“And a few other things. I’ve got this ringing every once in a while, and my hands. They’ve been shaking ever since.”
“So you don’t remember anything at all?” It was a stupid question. She knew that. But 40 years gone seemed so much worse than 14. He shook his head.
“I have… inklings. Things I like but can’t explain. Or-“ His face went red. “I know it’s silly, but I see myself as a family man. I know for certain I was married.” He lifted his hand up, showing off the same tarnished band Sophie noticed before. He grinned. “I know I loved my wife, and my family. I can just… feel it, I suppose.” He looked at the ring again, drumming his fingers on the table. “I’ve got initials, J.W., but no name. Hm.” His thick eyebrows knitted together. “I know what cologne I wear, I’ve got… strong opinions on things I can’t remember having encounters with.” Sophie watched as he continued the same pattern. It was S.O.S. in morse code, any horror buff could tell you that, but it didn’t seem like much more than coincidence, so she shrugged it off.
“Like what?” He looked up at her, snapped out of his thoughts.
“Drunks, drinking, booze. I wondered if maybe I was once an alcoholic but I seem to drink reasonably. They make me very upset, though not necessarily angry or sad. Just… upset. Oh!” His hand slammed into the table. “And I have favorite names, and a little doodle of a person, and I remember Alice in Wonderland by heart. When I read it, I can almost see-“ He winced again, and put his hand to his eye. “I’m, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t push yourself for me. I know it hurts.” He laughed, but it felt a little bitter.
“I must remember, but Brighton is a hard place to be.” Sophie’s lips formed a tight line, burger in hand. “If it hurts, I know I’m going in the right direction.” She swallowed. She hadn’t known him long, but worried for him more than she should.
“The names, how did you figure them out?” He looked at her, a grateful smile on his face. It was a question that reminded him, but didn’t need him to look back to his before.
“Most of them weren’t hard, they’re common, I suppose. But the last one, which I think I like most, was a pain.”
“I’ll listen, if you’ll tell.” He watched her take another bite of her burger. He thought for a moment
“Say, do you ever feel like you like something, but then you go for it and it just feels…”
“Wrong?” Sophie offered. Jack nodded.
“I’m a smoker.” The man stated suddenly. “While I was in the hospital, I was always just so miserable and I couldn’t figure it out until I accidentally waltzed into the break room after lunch. Then, I had to spend about 6 months going through all the cigarette brands trying to figure out which one I smoked before. I realized they were specially made with some kind of… infusement, I’m not sure. Anyway, I found the pack, and the damn cigarettes are called Rosemary’s. Wherever Rosemary is, I hope she’s happy. I had to love her a hell of a lot for her to be the first thing I remember.” Sophie opened her mouth to speak, before closing it again. Her eyes darted back and forth across the table.
“A-are you looking for her?” She watched him take another sip of his milkshake.
“I’m not sure. I- She deserves to know I didn’t just up and leave. But I’ve been gone from her life for a long time. I’m not sure how she would feel if I came back.” He placed his hands on the table again. “The others have less interesting stories. Molly was a little girl on a television show that played on repeat in the hospital. Edward was… I think a book cover, actually. And my nurse was named Sophia.” Sophie’s hand smacked the table, a little harder than she meant for it to.
“My name is Sophie!” She whisper-shouted, looking around to see if the noise caused anyone to look their way. He leaned in with a big grin.
“Well, Ms. Sophie, you have one of my most favorite names.” He smelled of spicy cologne, and smoke and leather. Something about the mix made her dizzy, but she forced a smile even as her chest felt hot. He leaned back into his seat.
“It’s nice to meet someone like me.” Sophie said in a voice just barely above a whisper. “Even if it’s just for a milkshake.” The man smiled, then frowned, then pulled an unused napkin from the center of the table. Sophie watched as he scribbled something onto it. He handed it to her, now etched with shaky blue handwriting.
John Walters (the memory man)
810-555-2488
Sophie blinked up at him.
“It’s the… number of the hotel I’ve been staying in. And my name, or, temporary name. I’m going to be there for a while. If you have any questions, or just feel the need, you can call.” He stood, sliding the paper as he exited the booth.
“It was nice to see you, Sophie.” And with that, he left.
Sophie had the feeling this was going to be something very important.