Chapter 43
The Bad Boy And The Mermaid
Hunter âDonât look at me like that,â I told Fred who was staring at me as if Iâd spoken in Chinese.
âI guarantee you will eat your words when you see her,â Fred said.
And for the first time in my life, I saw what a pissed off Fred looked like. And somehow his mood-swings were getting to me too. They wanted to give me half-truths and also get mad when I uttered a word. They remembered everything, I didnât. Someone needed a reality check and fast.
âEven though weâre married, I donât know this woman. What if I donât get my memories at all? How do you expect I spend my life with her?â I asked.
He wasnât going to answer me, frustrated; I put the car into drive and drove to my house. The miles stretched on with no words exchanged between us. He thought I was that shallow asshole whoâd suddenly change my words when I saw just how pretty she was. And thatâs the thing. I didnât care what she looked like, okay...maybe I was curious, like A LOT but that didnât change the fact that I wouldnât want to spend my life with a woman I didnât know.
When we entered my house, I decided to break the silence because it was getting unbearable. âOkay, Iâm sorry for what I said. I guess Iâm just tired of thinking of all the possibilities that this might go to shit.â
âIf youâre going to keep up with your attitude, it sure will go to shit, maybe even the sewer.â He commented, following me upstairs.
Leslie was right behind us, wagging his tail begging Fred for belly-rubs.
âAlright.â Fred put his hands on his waist, âwhere did you want to start?â
âI searched through most rooms; the bedrooms, the living area, and the basement. Found nothing there.â
âHave you checked the attic?â Fred asked.
âNope.â
âThen thatâs where we start.â He suggested.
âYou have to understand why itâs so hard for me to believe that I married someone. Itâs like she was never here. If she lived with me, how did she not leave anything behind? Clothes, makeup, you know, women stuff.â
Fred shrugged, âI donât know, man. Itâs so shady.â
We climbed the stairs to the attic together. The door was locked and I didnât remember where I left the key. Fred picked the lock easily with a sharp-
pointed object, and the door gave away. I wanted to ask him how heâd acquired the skills of a thief but thought better of it since I didnât want to piss him off more than I already had.
âYou gonna help me look through these or are you just gonna stand there looking pretty?â He taunted me as he dived into a box.
His attitude of making me feel like crap was getting on my nerves. He wasnât going to allow me to play the âAmnesia guyâ card.
âIâll look into this one.â I found another dusty old box and sifted through the contents.
My old clothes, shoes, comic books, toys, and other useless things started to pop up. An hour passed and both Fred and I had no luck finding anything.
Then suddenly I found this one box pushed far back into one of the old dusty shelves. Something about that box was odd. When I pulled the box down on the floor, I noticed how tightly it was shut with a cello-tape. The other boxes had been vaguely closed, why was this one specifically wrapped up?
I tore open the wrapping, feeling like opening a box of Pandora. Inside the box was an instant photo camera and a stack of pictures. With shaky hands, I picked it up.
The first picture was of me taken in a restaurant. I had a huge smile on my face, the kind of smile that I didnât think I ever had, and my arm draped around...
No one.
I wasnât even looking at the camera; I was looking at the invisible being beside me. Feeling uncomfortable, I shifted to the next picture. This time it was a selfie. Clearly, there had to be a person posing with me and yet I was alone in this one too.
The last picture gave me chills.
It was a wedding photo. Guests surrounded the area, I was dressed as a groom and I obviously looked like I was over the moon, holding hands with the air beside me.
âFred, look at these...â I whispered.
Fred dropped whatever he was doing and reached out towards me to take the pictures from my hands.
âWhat does this mean?â I asked him. âMy wife. Are you sure I havenât imagined her?â
âI clicked some of these pictures and I can swear she was with you. I donât know how someone can just disappear from a picture like a...like a...â
âLike a ghost.â I completed for him.
âYeah.â He said reluctantly. âThis is some kind of sorcery man.â
âI never knew the exact meaning of the word âghostingâ on someone until these pictures.â I gave out a bitter laugh.
Fred shook his head giving me a worried look. He thought Iâd changed personalities from Mr. Perfect-Married-Guy to Mr. Loony Toons. Heck, he wasnât even wrong to believe that. If I didnât put these missing pieces of my life together and manage to find my âsupposedâ wife, I sure as hell was going to be taken to the funny farm.
I went back to looking through the rest of the things in the box. I needed a clue, any clue that could revive my memories. I dug deeper inside and found a canvas. I tugged it out.
A beautiful woman was casually draped over the white sheets, cozy and very sensual. On second thought, she didnât possess a pair of legs. This was a mermaid. The painting was breathtaking, and just clearly conveyed one message; that the painter was completely in love with the woman heâd painted. Her blue hair was glossy and shining, her eyes a mixture of azure and emerald, glimmering like rare expensive jewels in the sunlight, her pink lips puckered and she was sporting a lazy smile. The colors and the strokes were no doubt done by yours truly.
This was my style.
This was my painting.
And yet I had a hard time believing it, much worse I still couldnât remember anything.
I couldnât remember her.
How was it possible that Iâd married such a beautiful woman or creature?
The comparison wasnât lost on me. Me marrying her would be similar to Marilyn Monroe marrying her bedpost. Yeah, reality fucking sucks.
âHey, Fred...â I called to him and then stopped.
I was going to show the painting to him until I realized that I shouldnât. This was my wife we were talking about. She was lying naked on a messy bed which I had no doubt Iâd slept in and done various things with her. Even though my memory wasnât serving me properly, I had basic morals to understand that this was still far too intimate to show it to a male friend. Her tits were practically on display. I was sure that the pre-accident Hunter would kick my butt to the end of this planet if I showed this to another man.
âWhatâs that in your hand?â
I turned it around. âNothing. Sorry, I canât show it to you.â
âWhy not?â
âBecause itâs a painting of my naked wife in bed,â
âOh.â He said, âSo...â
âSo?â I asked, cocking an eyebrow. âNot happening man. You ainât seeing it.â
He gave me a coy smile.
âWhat are you smiling at?â
He shook his head, âThought I saw the glimpse of the old Hunter, the possessive man completely head over heels in love with his girl.â
âStill donât think that happened. I mean, I understand what you said earlier. Sheâs gorgeous, looks like one of the imaginary mermaids painted on the ceiling of a fancy museum which is why I think thereâs a snowballâs chance in hell that a woman of that caliber could marry someone like me.â
âIf you think that then I guess you havenât looked at yourself properly in the mirror, have you?â
I chuckled. âSince when did you start noticing anything about me?â
He showed me the middle finger.
âI get your point. Women throw their panties at me when I walk by.â
âHow conceited of you, Mr. Brantley. I almost fucking gagged.â
I continued, âRegardless, my attractiveness hardly matches her beauty.â
âDo you remember anything after seeing that portrait?â
âI donât. Thatâs the fucking problem. No matter how hard I try to recall, I donât remember a damn thing.â
âI think you need some time to clear your head and think. Iâm positive it will come to you. Iâve seen some of the other paintings youâve drawn of her...â
The Bad Boy And The Mermaid ï¤Chapter 42 In My Desperate Time ï¤Chapter 637: You're the Best Gift in My Life 19 When he saw my glare, he added, âIn which she was fully clothed. You drew her exactly as she was without any exaggeration to add to her beauty, to the best of my knowledge.â
âItâs been three weeks. I want to remember everything. There are so many things I want to ask her, to say to her...â My hands began shaking. âI think Iâll go mad.â
Fred gave me a slap on my back. âThe Hunter I knew would go to the end of this earth to bring Blue back. He worshipped the ground she walked on.
That Hunter is still inside you somewhere. You need to keep looking.â
âMan, never knew you could give a philosophical talk like that. The Hunter you talk about sounds like a mushy guy.â
Fred laughed, âThatâs exactly what he was.â