Losing my memory (standard:science fiction, 1671 words)
Author: E.A. Wicklund	Added: Oct 28 2007	Views/Reads: 3462/2212	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
An amusing account of looking for a lost memory chip, and finding something else instead.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

failed to keep me on track. No news items, no spam, no advertisements 
clamored for my attention. I was really and truly lost. But then I 
smelled something. What was it? Reflexively, I stuck my thumb in my 
mouth and pulled on...well, that wasn't going to work. And then it came 
to me. Freshly mown grass. Ah! What a treat. I hadn't smelled that in 
years. 

In fact, I had wandered to the park I used to play in as kid. Long
before anyone in my family could afford the chips. I recognized a tree 
about a 100 meters into the park. Smiling, I headed for it. That was 
the tree where I kissed Sarah Patterson on the mouth. It was exciting 
for me because I thought I was the aggressive one. Then she grabbed my 
butt and pulled me closer for an even deeper kiss. I realized she was 
the aggressor and had lured me there for much more. My nine-year old 
boy's mind freaked and I bolted. 

I smiled at the memory. Off to my right, there used to be a stand where,
as a kid, I bought ice cream and sodas with my lunch money. I stopped 
where I was and stared. The old stone facing was still there. Ivy still 
grew up the wooden wickerwork at the front. The rusting, old-time 
waterpump still stood off to the side. The wet cement at it's base 
brought back hot summer days, ice-cream, and water balloon fights. 

My body wanted to go there while my mind dawdled. My legs turned me and
walked me closer, as if in a dream. The sign out front no longer read 
"Tad's Treats". Now it had something in Kanji characters and the words, 
"Bonny Bonsai". I walked up to the entrance as someone inside shouted, 
"Farkin' shite!" 

That was how I met, Patrick Hiromatsu. A mixed Irish/Japanese who loved
Bonsai Trees. He loved working with them because he said they relaxed 
him. When I got there he obviously needed help with that. He was a 
southpaw who had accidently slammed a car door on his left hand. Most 
of it was in a cast. And that prevented him from properly handling the 
tree-trimming clippers. 

I stood in the doorway with my mouth hanging open. Shelves of miniature,
beautiful Bonsai trees covered the walls. A smile crept across my face. 
I had never bothered to really look at Bonsai trees in person. The 
Human ideal of beauty merged with the natural beauty of nature and 
produced something of heart-warming elegance. I breathed in the scent 
of fresh earth and water merged with growing things. Forgetting all 
about the memory chip, I sighed the happy sigh of someone finally 
finding that ethereal, "it". 

Patrick sighed too, but his came from frustration. He reached up to run
his hand through his hair. The cast on his hand got in the way and 
rammed into his forehead. "Ow!" He moaned. He reached up to rub the 
spot and hit it again with the cast. "Ai!" He shouted. Turns out he was 
profoundly left-handed. 

I shouldn't have but I couldn't resist saying, "Need a hand?" 

"Haha, smartguy, " muttered Patrick. "You here to buy a tree or just
yank my chain?" 

I held up my hands to show no harm intended. Chuckling, I said, "No.
Just stopped to see  your place. Your work is just gorgeous," 

"Yeah?" He smiled wanly. "Thanks, man. Any chance you were serious about
that help offer?" 

"Sure!" I said. Wearing a child-like grin. 

He pointed to a dusty, wicker chair beside him. "Take these clippers and
clip where I tell you. I need to get this one ready for a customer 
who'll be here soon. Do this and I'll give you a free one from over on 
that table." The table held a collection of the most beautiful, cute 
trees I had ever seen. A little clipping and I'll get one of those? I 
jumped at it. 

Half an hour later, the job was done. Patrick looked at me with this odd
expression. "What? I hope I didn't screw it up for you," I said. 
Patrick smirked in that odd sideways he manner he had. "No, you didn't. 
And that really freaks me out. You did it perfectly. First time! You 
aren't at all Japanese are you?" 

Well, I'm not, but that hardly mattered. Patrick's hand never did heal
up correctly. His livelihood was threatened. So I stayed on. I potted 
Bonsai trees and trimmed them until they became the perfect little 
works of art that Patrick wanted. He couldn't pay me much,  but it was 
enough to afford a small apartment converted from a garage. Nearby the 
park. 

Every now and then I see the young woman I saw that first day. She still
takes a lot of international calls. Arching her back so tantallizingly 
every time. It's especially great on cold days. But I only watch from 
afar. I wouldn't date a goofy woman like her. 

I suppose I lost my job. I never bothered to check. My cushy, upscale
apartment probably got rented out to some other corporate dweeb. And if 
you're the new renter who happens to find my stupid, useless, missing 
memory chip; you can keep it. 


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