Chapter 43

Hunter

“Don’t look at me like that,” I told Fred who was staring at me as if I’d spoken in Chinese.

“I guarantee you will eat your words when you see her,” 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 didn’t. Someone needed a reality check and fast.

“Even though we’re married, I don’t know this woman. What if I don’t get my memories at all? How do
you expect I spend my life with her?” I asked.

He wasn’t 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 who’d
suddenly change my words when I saw just how pretty she was. And that’s the thing. I didn’t care what
she looked like, okay…maybe I was curious, like A LOT but that didn’t change the fact that I wouldn’t
want to spend my life with a woman I didn’t know.

When we entered my house, I decided to break the silence because it was getting unbearable. “Okay,
I’m sorry for what I said. I guess I’m just tired of thinking of all the possibilities that this might go to shit.”

“If you’re going to keep up with your attitude, it sure will go to shit, maybe even the sewer.” He
commented, following me upstairs.

Leslie was right behind us, wagging his tail begging Fred for belly-rubs.

“Alright.” Fred put his hands on his waist, “where did you want to start?”



“I searched through most rooms; the bedrooms, the living area, and the basement. Found nothing
there.”

“Have you checked the attic?” Fred asked.

“Nope.”

“Then that’s where we start.” He suggested.

“You have to understand why it’s so hard for me to believe that I married someone. It’s like she was
never here. If she lived with me, how did she not leave anything behind? Clothes, makeup, you know,
women stuff.”

Fred shrugged, “I don’t know, man. It’s so shady.”

We climbed the stairs to the attic together. The door was locked and I didn’t 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 he’d acquired the skills of a thief but thought better of it since I didn’t want to piss him off more
than I already had.

“You gonna help me look through these or are you just gonna stand there looking pretty?” He taunted
me as he dived into a box.

His attitude of making me feel like crap was getting on my nerves. He wasn’t going to allow me to play
the “Amnesia guy” card.

“I’ll look into this one.” 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
didn’t think I ever had, and my arm draped around...

No one.

I wasn’t 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.

“Fred, look at these...” I whispered.

Fred dropped whatever he was doing and reached out towards me to take the pictures from my hands.

“What does this mean?” I asked him. “My wife. Are you sure I haven’t imagined her?”

“I clicked some of these pictures and I can swear she was with you. I don’t know how someone can just
disappear from a picture like a...like a...”

“Like a ghost.” I completed for him.



“Yeah.” He said reluctantly. “This is some kind of sorcery man.”

“I never knew the exact meaning of the word “ghosting” on someone until these pictures.” I gave out a
bitter laugh.

Fred shook his head giving me a worried look. He thought I’d changed personalities from Mr. Perfect-
Married-Guy to Mr. Loony Toons. Heck, he wasn’t even wrong to believe that. If I didn’t put these
missing pieces of my life together and manage to find my “supposed” 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 didn’t 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 he’d 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 couldn’t remember anything.

I couldn’t remember her.

How was it possible that I’d married such a beautiful woman or creature?



The comparison wasn’t lost on me. Me marrying her would be similar to Marilyn Monroe marrying her
bedpost. Yeah, reality fucking sucks.

“Hey, Fred...” I called to him and then stopped.

I was going to show the painting to him until I realized that I shouldn’t. This was my wife we were
talking about. She was lying naked on a messy bed which I had no doubt I’d slept in and done various
things with her. Even though my memory wasn’t 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.

“What’s that in your hand?”

I turned it around. “Nothing. Sorry, I can’t show it to you.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s a painting of my naked wife in bed,”

“Oh.” He said, “So...”

“So?” I asked, cocking an eyebrow. “Not happening man. You ain’t seeing it.”

He gave me a coy smile.

“What are you smiling at?”

He shook his head, “Thought I saw the glimpse of the old Hunter, the possessive man completely head
over heels in love with his girl.”



“Still don’t think that happened. I mean, I understand what you said earlier. She’s gorgeous, looks like
one of the imaginary mermaids painted on the ceiling of a fancy museum which is why I think there’s a
snowball’s chance in hell that a woman of that caliber could marry someone like me.”

“If you think that then I guess you haven’t looked at yourself properly in the mirror, have you?”

I chuckled. “Since when did you start noticing anything about me?”

He showed me the middle finger.

“I get your point. Women throw their panties at me when I walk by.”

“How conceited of you, Mr. Brantley. I almost fucking gagged.”

I continued, “Regardless, my attractiveness hardly matches her beauty.”

“Do you remember anything after seeing that portrait?”

“I don’t. That’s the fucking problem. No matter how hard I try to recall, I don’t remember a damn thing.”

“I think you need some time to clear your head and think. I’m positive it will come to you. I’ve seen
some of the other paintings you’ve drawn of her…”

When he saw my glare, he added, “In 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.”

“It’s been three weeks. I want to remember everything. There are so many things I want to ask her, to
say to her…” My hands began shaking. “I think I’ll go mad.”

Fred gave me a slap on my back. “The 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.”



“Man, never knew you could give a philosophical talk like that. The Hunter you talk about sounds like a
mushy guy.”

Fred laughed, “That’s exactly what he was.”


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