Lost Story
Matthew Ryan Fischer
Jimmy was a stranger in a strange town in a strange county. He had
to stop and laugh at himself a little bit. It was a bit comical. He didn’t know
the language. He didn’t know where he was. A series of unfortunate coincidental
events had led him to this point, but it sure seemed like it would take a lot
more than that to get him turned around correctly and get back on track.
Earlier in the night Jimmy had had money, he had had a map, and he
had had a tour guide. He no longer had any of those items. He did have a belly
full of fruit and rum drinks and he had some vague notion that he was walking
on a street that he had walked on before, but he really didn’t know if he had
much more than that.
Somewhere out there was a hotel room with his name on it.
Somewhere out there were some fellow travelers that would know him. Somewhere
seemed like a far far way to get. He turned corners and walked streets and was
pretty sure he wasn’t going in circles, but couldn’t be sure of that.
Jimmy had thought that partying in a strange land where he didn’t
know the language would be an exciting adventure. He had always heard that
English was spoken to some degree everywhere. He had always heard that foreign
women always had a bit of a thing for young white Americans. Everyone seemed to
have always heard from someone else that it was fairly easy to get along on a
trip like this and that the natives were always friendly and helpful. Maybe
that was the normal case. Maybe if Jimmy has less rum in his system everything
would be a whole lot easier. Maybe. But maybe didn’t help him much in this
case.
Jimmy sat down on the front steps to a store. He decided he needed
to sit and rest and recover. Maybe if he sat for a few minutes his mental fog
would clear and the world would spin a little less and a solution would seem a
little more possible. He wished he had his phone. He didn’t know where his
phone was. He wished he hadn’t wandered off from the bar. He couldn’t remember
wandering off, but he really really wished he hadn’t done it. He was tired and
getting grumpy and was a little bit scared. He had slept in foreign places
before, but never quite this foreign.
Jimmy blinked. He was sure that was all he was doing. He blinked
and suddenly it was all dark.
Jimmy opened his eyes, not sure how much time had passed. But he
could tell time had definitely passed. As far as he could tell he had all his
possessions. But at this moment that didn’t mean much. He was already missing
his money and his phone, so the fact that he was still holding onto his clothes
wasn’t that great of an achievement.
Jimmy’s eyes focused and he saw her—the young, dark haired girl,
sitting across the street from him. She sat on the steps of another store and
was much the mirror image of him. Or so he thought. Really the only thing
similar between them was the fact that she sat across from him. But Jimmy made
a strange connection, so that was what he felt. Certainly the rum helped him
come to this conclusion.
She watched him and he watched her. They were intrigued by each
other. Jimmy was sure he probably looked pretty strange to her. He was a strange man in a strange land,
having fallen asleep in a strange place to fall asleep. He felt like he should
say something, but wasn’t sure what to say or why he thought he owed her an
explanation.
“It’s okay. Don’t be afraid.”
She didn’t respond.
Jimmy tried to say it again in the broken Spanish that he knew. He
wished he had learned Portuguese. He should have learned Portuguese. That would
have been so much more helpful. But broken Spanish was all he knew, so he tried
to make that work.
He told the girl he was lost. He tried to tell her that he needed
help. And he assured her as best he could that he was no threat to her. The
girl stayed where she was, but seemed unthreatened by him. Jimmy took this to
mean that she did indeed understand him enough, and so he hoped she could be of
further help.
Jimmy crossed the street, all the while asking her for directions
either to the bar he had been in or to the area where he thought his hotel had
been.
Jimmy kept asking for help. He kept assuring her that he was no
threat. He was thinking about things all wrong. The little girl pulled a knife
and lunged. Jimmy fell backwards as he tried to turn too quickly and lost his
footing due to alcoholic imbalance. He could feel his head hitting the street.
He could feel the panic as he felt the girl’s presence so close to his. He
could feel a sharp moment of pain. And then things started to go black and he
didn’t feel much of anything anymore.
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