Free Undermind: Nine Stories by Edward M Wolfe Page A

the stranger and tore into the
wrapper with my teeth. It was warm and the chocolate clung to the
inside of the wrapper. After eating the twin bars, I licked the
chocolate off the paper, then walked over to the wire-basket
trashcan next to the streetlight post.
    “Now I knows you din’t eat today.”
    “Thank you very much, sir. If I had any money,
I’d pay you, but I—“
    “You jis pay it fo’ward when you can,” he said,
dismissing my explanation.
    The light turned green and I thanked him for the
fourth time in two minutes before complying with the sign that now
said WALK . When I reached the other side, my mind went back
on autopilot as far as navigating the obstacles on the sidewalk. I
weaved in and out around pedestrians, newspaper vending boxes, and
the occasional street beggar partially blocking the way with their
outstretched legs, sitting on the sidewalk holding their cardboard
signs with God Bless written on them.
    I put the sugar from the candy bar to work,
forcing myself to think back to the last thing I recalled. I had
left work and gone home. I checked my email, watched the news on TV
for a while, and then when I got hungry, I decided to eat out
somewhere. I drove to a nearby bar that makes great burgers. But I
didn’t eat. Someone bought me a beer and I think we talked for a
while. I remember that I didn’t want a beer, but I was being polite
and trying to get out of the conversation with the overly friendly
guy who seemed really intent on talking to me and buying me drinks.
Not in a gay way – just an obliging, clueless way, like someone who
wants a friend and doesn’t realize they’re imposing.
    That’s the last thing I remember. How is that
possible? I crossed another intersection and strained to recall
more of what happened in the bar. The fact that there was nothing
at all in my mind to be discovered made me wonder if the guy had
spiked my drink. It made perfect sense. He was determined to talk
to me despite my short answers and the fact that I kept returning
my gaze to the menu rather than engage him in conversation. I could
imagine him putting something in my beer, then when I got groggy,
he could’ve walked me out as if he was helping a friend who was too
drunk to drive. Then he could’ve driven me to the house in North
Hollywood. Then what? He went out, found a girl, brought her back,
stripped her and killed her, then laid her out on the floor next to
me?
    What the fuck sense did that make? Whoever the
guy was, I had never seen him before. I’d never seen the girl
before either. Maybe the guy just needed someone to be a patsy and
I was dumb enough to sit there accepting his drinks instead of
doing what I wanted to do, which was just eat, and see if any
attractive females showed up while I was eating.
    A horn honked, which is not unusual, so I
ignored it. Then it honked again, right beside me from a car that
was moving at the same rate of speed that I was walking. I looked
over and saw the driving leaning over so he could see me through
the passenger window.
    “Need a lift?”
    It was the guy from the bar! Considering what
he’d apparently done to me, he was the last person I should be
accepting a ride from.
    “Sure,” I said, walking over to his car and
getting in.
    ***
    I know it seems stupid that I got in a car with
the person who was most likely responsible for the hell I found
myself in, but he was also the only person in the world who might
be able to shed light on what was happening to my life, and
why.
    He pulled forward as soon as I had gotten in,
before I’d even shut the door. The car behind us was honking its
horn and the light in front of us was green. I blurted out
everything on my mind without thinking of what I was going to
say.
    “Who are you? What did you do to me? Why did you
kill that girl? Are you fucking insane? What the hell is going
on?”
    “Slow down, Tommy boy! One thing at a time. You
sure woke up full of questions, didn’t you?”
    “I woke up next