Chapter September 20th, 1966

I have notseen Freddy Harris since my first day at school. There has been talk that hehas suffered serious brain trauma from some poison that he inadvertentlyingested, and was now in some special institution learning how to feed himselfagain. Nobody knew when or how this had happened.

I know, ofcourse!

The specialpastrami sandwiches that my mother had lovingly made for me to mark theoccasion of my first day at school had somehow become tainted with rat poisonfrom my father’s workshop. Thank goodness Freddy had chosen to relieve me ofthe toxic fare. I guess he must have been wondering why I was smiling the whole30 seconds it took him to scoff it all down. He had eaten it up so fast that hedidn’t even taste that there was something odd about the stolen lunch.

Strange, itwould be natural for me to be feeling some form of regret, but I don’t.

Instead, Ifeel like a warrior that has won a great battle.

This isalmost the same feeling I had when I discovered that Freddy was an employee atVizion Global in my previous life.

He didn’teven recognize me as he went about his job of cleaning the floors and emptyingthe waste paper bins. He had never been very bright.

I guess Iwon’t be seeing him at Vizion Global this time around. After all, now he can’teven wipe his own arse properly.