and then only darkness remained. I shut my eyes tight. I didn’t scream. I didn’t even become scared. I knew I wouldn’t feel the impact. But what if I did? The idea didn’t register quickly enough. My body twisted round and round like a pinwheel lost in the wind. I had no control. There was no way to stop. I hit the surface of the water and then . . . and then there was nothing.
7. The Office and the Coworker
There was a new sound. I didn’t know what it was just yet. It was quiet and dull. I knew that by the time it got to me it was old and outdated. A new and better sound had probably already replaced it by the time it got to my ears. And yet it continued on monotonously. I wanted it to stop, to change, to do something so it was not the same boring noise. It haunted me, made me feel weak and helpless. I grew angry at it. Would somebody please just make it stop!
A vision came to my eyes to vanquish all the darkness I had to endure for so long. It came as a blurry and obscure sight. But it wouldn’t be for long. I could see it was morphing and growing clearer into something I might be able to recognize as sight sooner or later. Colors were added and it was as if I was looking at a painting taking shape in a painter’s mind. I was watching the inspiration come before them. I was a part of it and it made me feel like I was an ingredient in the greatest artwork ever to be seen.
The sound and the picture merged into one solid entity. They both changed as they intermixed. The sound grew more tolerable, and the picture developed into something less than great art: the dreariness of real life.
Without warning the sound and the visual came together. I found myself sitting in a chair staring down at piece of paper. A coffee mug full of pencils and pens with no caps was right beside it. A blue folder was on the other side. It was stuffed full of paper. A laptop was closed in the corner.
I looked around at it all, not quite sure what it meant. Something was different and I knew it. I wasn’t always sitting in that chair looking over that paper. I was somewhere else. I didn’t know how long ago I was somewhere else but I knew the memory was still fresh, if only I could remember it. I got bits and pieces. I knew there was something about a mountain and bright lights. I racked my brain for more but it wouldn’t come.
I leaned back and heard a crinkling. A rain coat was spread across the back of my chair. My eyes found a window with rain streaking across it. My ears picked up the soft patter of raindrops and it joined the drone of staplers, squeaky wheels, and uninteresting chatter.
I stood up and looked around. I was in an office. My chair was the same as the other thirty that were heard swiveling and squeaking. The room was filled with cubicles. All the people looked the same, dreary and tired, trying to find anything for their minds to do that wasn’t the usual muddle of papers and computer screens.
I walked around. I thought better while moving. It helped the ideas come. Not that I needed any ideas in that place. It looked like a place where I would be told what to do and have to do it. But if I got paid then it wouldn’t be a total waste.
“Hey you.”
I stopped. I was over by the window, looking down at the street far below. Little people ran around in the rain while cars came and splashed water on them. I turned and saw a young woman sitting at a cubicle. She looked very familiar with her messy brown hair and her bright blue eyes.
“I haven’t seen you for an hour. What have you been up to?” She asked.
I looked back at the window as if she might have been talking to it. I assumed she was and tried to get away.
“Where are you going?” She said, half laughing.
I stopped and looked back at her. “Are you really talking to me?”
“Who else would I be talking to?”
I pointed to the window. She rolled her eyes and smiled.
“You sure are funny.”
“I am?”
“Do you still want to go to that new place across the street for lunch?”
I shrugged. “Beg pardon.”
“That new place. What was it called again? Something like the Clock Maker. It’s a weird name for a restaurant, but whatever.”
“And you want to go there with me?” I asked certain she had the wrong person.
“Of course. I’m not married to anyone else in here am I?”
“We are what now?”
“I know,” she sighed, “I can’t believe it either. I’m having a hard time remembering to put Ramonia Brickem on everything.”
That name, I knew it from somewhere. I tried my hardest to think of where I knew it from but had trouble recalling the exact place.
“So how about it?” She pressed.
“Yeah, that sounds like something to do.” I said awkwardly. “When is lunch again?”
She checked her watch. “Coming up real soon now. I’ll get you when its time.”
I nodded and went back to my chair with my raincoat on it. I buried my face in my hands. I didn’t know where I was or what I was doing there. Some things came back to me, but they weren’t about the mountain or the bright lights. They were about a much more ordinary life. I knew that just two weeks ago Ramonia and I went to a nice ranch thirty minutes away and got married. We knew each other for three years before that. I think we met in college. I didn’t go very long, only a semester or two. There was also something about an apartment. I spent my nights sitting on a couch and playing video games or watching television. And that was it, the only memories that came back to me. It wasn’t a terrible life I supposed. I had a job, a wife, and an apartment.
The time came and Ramonia and I left the office. She went on about a savings plan I didn’t know anything about. I wasn’t really listening. I was much too preoccupied with getting a feel for my surroundings. I hoped a certain person or a particular part of the building would bring everything back. She noticed my lack of interest in what she said.
“Excuse me.” She said haughtily. “Are you listening? I’m trying to find a way to save for a house here. Do you have any suggestions?”
“What kind of down payments are we looking at?” I said.
Where did that come from? I went from not knowing where I was to answering a question I didn’t hear.
“Well there are some in our price range in the suburbs but we have to think long term here. Are we going to be able to keep up with the payments? What if we have kids?”
“Have what? I think we should worry about one major expense at a time.”
Where was I getting all this from?
“Good point.” She said. “But I do see that in our future.”
“I do too, but there is time for all of that.”
“Barring a setback.”
“Yes, of course.”
We got into the elevator with a dozen other people going to lunch. We dropped the conversation there. When we got to the front door I realized I forgot my raincoat. I didn’t want to go back and get it so we ran across the street to the Clock Maker. It was a cuckoo clock haven. The things were all over the place in there. It was a little bistro like place. Ramonia picked out a seat at the window and we watched the people scurry about in the rain. She went up and bought the food. My wallet was in my raincoat. She came back with two sandwiches and we ate.
“So did you get a lot done so far?” She asked through a mouthful of pastrami.
I took a deep breath. “Actually I seem to be having a problem today.”
“Really, what kind?”
“Memory lapses.”
She put her sandwich down and looked at me somberly. “Is this recurring?”
“I can’t tell you if it is. I just have this intense feeling that I was somewhere else an hour ago.”
She didn’t take her eyes off me. “Napping again in the office?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think so. This was much more real than that.”
She picked up her sandwich again. “Tell me where you were.”
She was usi
ng a tone that made me think she didn’t believe me. I didn’t let that deter me.
“I don’t know. There was something about a mountain and some bright lights. I remember something about, um, I think you.”
“You mean I was there with you?”
“I believe so.”
She smiled warm heartedly. “At least I’m in your dreams.”
“I told you I wasn’t dreaming.”
“Alright, sorry, at least I’m in whatever you want to call it.”
I looked gloomily out the window at the passersby. My eyes slowly made their way up the tall building that we worked at. The name of the building was near the top. I stared at the words for a long time.
“At least Heradus didn’t notice you going to wherever it was you went.” She said sternly.
I continued to stare at the sign. The combination of what she said and the words Amna International struck against something in my head. A feeling came to me. I felt betrayed by something. Was it Amna or Heradus?
“Who is that?” I asked quietly.
“Who? Heradus? Our boss.”
That was it. The name Heradus brought the feeling of betrayal to me, and this time a memory of someone floating away.
“Say it one more time?” I insisted.
“Heradus. I know it’s a weird name.”
I could see a bedroom and a hallway.
“Again and again, keep saying his name.”
“What is your problem?”
I waved my hand at her. “Just do it.”
She repeated his name ten or twelve times. I stared transfixed at the words Amna International. Everything fluttered back into my head. I was walking through the forest and a shadow
A Translation of Inspiration Page 9
