Untitled Short Story

Something I discovered while searching through my old files stored in Google docs. I haven't posted here in a while, so I might as well post this. Enjoy.

No Title

Remember Jonah?, I asked her. She was by the trash bin, dropping off our baby’s soiled diaper. Uhm, she replied.

From the org? I ran into him this afternoon. He was in a really bad way.

Almario? He looked ok when I left the office.

Not Jonas. Jonah. Jonah Samson. From our org. The one with that insane crush on Mileth that we all made fun of.

I glanced at her. She was now arranging pillowcases into a pile, quite intent in making neat folds.

If I meant Jonas Almario, I wouldn’t have asked you, ‘Remember Jonas?’ You see him every day.

I don’t remember a Jonah, she finally responded in point.

How could you not…

And I remember everybody from the org. Even those you never spoke to.

Jonah, Jonah Samson. Thin guy, black plastic glasses, spiked hair. Had a huge crush on Mileth. Part of the Counterstrike gang.

Wait, I'm brushing my teeth.

I turned on the television, depressed the mute button. "Arvin, oh Arvin. Thank you man, thank you pare. Am I so glad to see you”, Jonah had said to me, during our chance encounter at the grocery beside the gas station. He was near tears. He was hugging me, very very tight. We had never hugged before, and I doubt if we had even ever shaken hands. We were not close, and I had not seen him since college. He was in what I supposed was office attire, but his clothes were dirt-stained and obviously unpressed in days. They also smelled the journey through kilometers of smog.

Karl, Joey, Iggy, Socrates and Cher. That was your Counterstrike gang.

And Jonah! I felt my blood surge, envigorated by the mystery of the amnesiac wife.

There was no Jonah! In terms that said this was her final answer. Did you go out and finally have your first ever drink? Without me?! She laughed, but briefly. My dad used to go home drunk every night and things got ugly. Long story, but irrelevant for now.

This is weird.

What's weird? That I don’t remember someone who doesn’t exist?

I saw him earlier this evening. At the StarMart, as I was headed home from my jog. I was paying for some water when Jonah comes running in screaming “Arvin, remember me? Do you know who I am?” Sure, I say, and he starts hugging me. Said he saw me from the road entering the store, and he ran over to meet me. Thank you, thank you, he says. The whole scene, freaked me out big time. We were never that close, never called him at home, never had classes together, I only saw him at the tambayan.

Maybe this Jonah, you’re mistaking him for someone else, someone whom I’ve never met. A high school classmate.

No. He’s from our org. Even told me himself, “Arvin, from Arki Society?! Counterstrike?!”

I noticed that she had settled in bed.

I really don’t know what to say. I have no idea who this Jonah is. What do you want me to say?

Her question left me in momentary pause. I’ll finish my story, maybe it'll come back to you as I go along.

Ok.

So there was Jonah, all hugging and shouting "Arvin, Arvin!". I glanced at the cashier, and she looked like she was about to laugh. I was embarrassed, didn’t want to get into any small talk, so I told Jonah I had to get going, running late for an appointment. He screamed No! No!, but somewhat calmed down after I apologized for having to go. He asked me again if I really remembered him, I said yes. He asked for my calling card but I didn’t have one on me. He then asked if I had a cellphone, saying that it was really really important that he have my number and he’d explain why and why he was acting really weird next time we talked. He looked as if he was about to cry, and I felt sorry for the bastard. I gave him my number, he borrowed a pen from the cashier, asked her for a used receipt where he wrote my number down. I then told him I had to go, and I jogged out of there as fast as I could.

This Jonah of yours sounds really crazy.

He was weird, back when. But not this class of weird. I knew him...we knew him as the silent shy type, somewhat boring except when it came to Mileth, not even very good at Counterstrike…You still don’t remember, do you?

Nope.

The story’s not over. So I end up jogging around for another thirty minutes or so, to make sure he had left the StarMart, then I return and asked the cashier if she had seen him before. She told me he had shown up in the area a few hours earlier and was begging from drivers filling up gas. The station attendants shooed him away, so he went out to the street, begging. And his clothes were nearly tattered, but, long sleeves and slacks. The cashier also told me that after I left, he asked her if she knew where I lived, and she told him, no.

She sat up. Well, whoever this Jonah is, I don’t want him near our house. And why did you give him your cell number?

I felt really sorry for him, Sheila hon, he really looked like he needed a lot of help.

If he calls you up, maybe we should call the police.

Hon, he’s our friend.

Your friend. I do not know any Jonah.

Back to Mystery Square Number One.

Mileth would know. She didn’t like him because of the weird crush thing, but she would know.

Don’t bother her. It’s late, and she has a lower tolerance for foolishness than I. Get to bed. Maybe when you wake up, you too will forget who this Jonah is.

I was agreeable to the prospect of forgetting all about Jonah. Still, I was disappointed in her, for failing to appreciate the gravity of the truth that had hugged into me earlier in the day. Maybe I’d forget about that too the next day.

I slept well through the night, and when I awoke, the first memory that flashed was Jonah near tears. She was already up, cradling our sleeping baby. I kissed first mother, then child. I then reached over for the milk and oats while she hummed tunelessly.

You must be asking, I said after a silent awhile. Jonah-StarMart-Counterstrike. She sighed, probably in disgust. Don’t worry, not another word about Jonah.

Ever?

My turn to sigh. Maybe. Why not? Ok, ever.

Tell me if he calls though. I might even speak to this Jonah.

I said nothing more. I finished breakfast, drove to work. Google revealed no Jonah Samson outside the Old Testament setting. I dawdled beside blueprints, then at around two, called Mileth.

After pleasantries, Remember Jonah? Jonah Samson?

Who? My heart sank. After all, I had nominated Mileth as sanity’s arbiter. Still, I went through the song and dance.

If this Jonah did give me a perfumed sock stuffed with holens because I once mentioned that I missed playing marbles, shouldn't I definitely remember him?... Is there anything else you need? This is getting too weird for me, and I just came back stressed from my OB-Gyne.

Sheila called around two hours later. Mileth called. I told you not to bother her. Don’t you know she’s going through another difficult pregnancy? I started to say “sorry”, but held back when I realized I was not talking to Mileth.

Sorry hon, I just couldn't...

So you trust her more than you trust me? Another long but irrelevant story.

I just had to know. Had to make sure.

Well, after Mileth called, I called Angela, I called Mina, I called Jake. I even bothered to ask Jake for Socrates' phone number. Socrates, from your Counterstrike gang. I could almost feel her air quotes brush up and down my cheeks. Guess what? None of them knows who the fuck is Jonah.

I wasn't surprised to hear that, but it still had shock value. I was not planning on calling any of them, hon.

Just Mileth, I see. Anyway, just in case you got tempted, I called them all up for you. Do you want me to call Jonah’s parents, whoever the hell they may be?

I had no clue too, having never asked Jonah about his family. I might have assumed they hailed from the province, but nothing had ever happend to arouse any curiosity about Jonah's parents. It was useless to enrich my conversation with Sheila with this context, so I just stared into the screensaver.

I’ll never bring it up again.

Good. I was hoping that she too was staring into her screensaver.

Anything else? I guessed she wanted me to say sorry. Not yet. I’ll be home the usual time. I'll buy the formula on my way. There was too long a pause, then, Ok, thank you.

That evening, I was back at the Star Mart. Jonah wasn’t there. Neither did they carry baby formula. The same cashier from the day before was manning the till. Her nameplate, then and today, read Bongkie.

You remember me from yesterday?

Yes, Sir Arvin, right?

How did you know my name?

That weird man kept on repeating it yesterday. Arvin, Arvin, Arvin.

So you do remember him.

Of course, who wouldn't? Don't remember his name though.

I quickly replayed the encounter from memory. I myself had not bothered then to utter Jonah's name out loud, and neither did Jonah. He knew I knew his name.

His clothes were dirty and he hugged me, right?

Yes sir. He even borrowed a pen from me.

Yes, yes… yes.

And after you left, sir, he asked me if I knew where you lived…

Yes yes, and you told me so after I returned yesterday…

Yes sir.

I surprised myself by bursting into tears. Nothing fulsome, but there was a crack on the floodgate. Bongkie stepped back. I caught myself mid-sniffle and recomposed.

Sorry about that, Bongkie. It’s been a really strange day. That man – his name is Jonah – he was my friend, I haven’t seen in a long time. But none of our other friends, even my own wife Sheila, remembers who he was. I told Bongkie about the argument with Sheila, the awkwardness with Mileth, and also about Angela and Mina and Jake and even Socrates. Since there were no other customers in the store, I felt no pressure to rush the telling of my story.

Wow, said Bongkie. But I do remember seeing you and your friend here yesterday. Maybe, maybe sir you can bring your wife here and I can tell her everything that I saw.

I studied Bongkie’s proposal. Ultimately, all she could swear by to Sheila was that a strange man approached me the day before, a man whose name she did not know until I told her just moments before.

Thanks, but it won’t help. You wouldn’t be able to tell her that you knew our friend Jonah…my friend Jonah.

Ok no problem sir. So, you and Jonah were close?

Actually no. We belonged to the same organization in college, played the same computer game, but other than that, we had nothing in common. Come to think of it, I don’t think I really thought of him as my friend. At least not until all this.

It's strange that you’re the only one who remembers him.

Very… Are you sure you believe me? That I have this friend named Jonah, whom you saw yesterday, and whom nobody else remembers?

Why won’t I believe you? Why would you bother lying to me, a very complicated lie at that. Besides, the way he reacted yesterday, maybe, he too knows you are the only one who remembers him, that’s why he was so glad to see you.

Maybe. Probably. God knows why.

He’ll probably explain once he calls you.

If he calls.

He’ll call you. You’re the only friend he’s got. As soon as he is able to earn enough from begging to buy a cellphone. Bongkie laughed, and I joined in. I was wondering though if by this time, Jonah had not already been run over by a ten-wheeler truck.

I'm glad we got to talk, Bongkie. To know that someone else was sharing in my truth, even if it were just in my present truth and not that of the past. There was still an hour left before the drugstore where I usually bought the infant formula was to close. I think I'll have some coffee.