Fantasy and Myth

Missing Memory

Jeff sat on the bench, waiting for the bus to take him to his job at the newly opened Rugged Retreat summer camp. Grey strands had infiltrated his otherwise jet black hair like a commando team, and he'd only recently noticed their presence. His loose t-shirt and jeans covered over the extensive muscle mass he'd acquired over the years, and his slouched posture helped further conceal his physical capabilities.

The large bus, diesel engine roaring loudly, muscled its way down the street and slowed to a stop in front of the bench. The door hissed open.

"Climb aboard," the driver invited with a friendly smile.

The explosive release of air brakes shook Jeff back to his senses, and he quickly looked around as he suddenly found himself no longer sitting on the bench facing the bus but standing with his back to the door.

"Have a good one," the driver called out before shutting the door and putting the bus in gear. Jeff was about to chase after the bus when his phone rang. Letting the bus go, he pulled out his phone and answered it.

"Yeah," he said.

"Jeff," a relieved voice sighed. "I was worried you wouldn't answer."

"Why wouldn't I answer?" Jeff questioned. "And, if you'll pardon the question. Who are you?"

"Are you alright?" the voice questioned. "You sound a little foggy."

"Just a little disoriented," Jeff admitted. He closed his eyes and rested a hand on his forehead. "Is this Mike?"

"Sure is, and you better recognize your best friend," the voice on the phone laughed.

"Do you think you could give me a ride to work?" Jeff asked. "I spaced out for a minute and missed the Monday bus."

"What are you talking about?" Mike questioned. "This is Tuesday morning."

"Very funny," Jeff replied, switching his phone over to the calendar to check the date. Tuesday. "What in the world?"

"Where are you?" Mike asked.

"At the bus stop near my house," Jeff explained.

"Stay there," Mike ordered. "I'm on my way."

It took only six minutes for Mike to pull up in his battered but still functioning truck. The door screeched horribly when he got out, but Jeff wasn't paying attention. He was sitting on the bus stop bench, staring blindly at the sidewalk. Jeff's thoughts were water swirling around a drain, all of them being pull into the void of the one question he couldn't answer – how could he have lost an entire day?

"Jeff!" Mike called for the second time, rousing his friend from his concentration. "You ready to go?"

"Yeah," Jeff agreed. He shook his head to try and clear the confusion, but it didn't help. "Let's go."

The two friends headed back to the truck and climbed in. The bench seat of the truck was faded, and the splits in several locations revealed the yellow foam underneath. No traffic cluttered the street this early in the morning, so it was easy for the truck to pull away from the curb and head immediately toward Mike's house.

Mike had met Jeff back in high school, when they'd both ended up in detention together. Mike had usually been able to talk his way out of most problems, but setting off firecrackers during the Principal's assembly speech had been beyond his ability to evade. Many years and many adventures had gone by since then, but Mike's clean shaven face and short, curly blond hair let him retain a much younger look than his forty-two years. His usual smile was gone, and his eyebrows were mashed together with worry.