I Swear It Was Only One Week.

Hi.

Ever have one of those days?

The time stamp on this post was supposed to have read July 22. You can see the August stamp. It looks like I missed some time, right?

Missed time. Right.

So I beat everyone out of bed the other morning, the 'other morning' being July 22; got the breakfasts around and the to-do list in order. Everyone had things to do. They were out the door by 7:43 a.m. I know this, because I remember looking at the clock in the kitchen when I waved the troops goodbye.

Then I went downstairs to type.

You see, I had a project for the book that needed to get sorted out. After reading the completed chapters, good old Georgie informed me that it would need a preface to 'immerse the reader' into the short stories. It turns out that simply throwing a reader into this series is too much too soon. Turns out that there has to be a kind of 'primer' that will create a sense of familiarity for the interconnected tissue tracing its way through each chapter.

Georgie gave me two choices: Re-write each chapter as a novel; with the reader able to travel along with characters established in the first ten pages, or create a Preface that would introduce everybody.

The Preface sounded a lot more manageable.

So here I was, cursing under my breath as I jotted notes on the first five short stories. I would have to open my mind to these dream-tales; bring the inhalation of what set each of them on their merry way into the Preface. I worked. I drank coffee. I diagramed. I ate snacks. Wrote stuff down. Nuked some cheddar over tortilla chips. Notes notes notes. Cooked up some pasta with a ton of parmesan. Then I started sketching a map of the town.

The screwing around stopped.

I lost track of the afternoon, skipped dinner, and never heard anyone come home. I worked well into the night. When it was all said and done, I had a map of the town and region. I also had a punch list of events that would carry the reader through the almighty Preface. The numbers on the clock glowed a red 1:19.

I stumbled up the stairs and hit the bathroom. Washed and made it to the bedroom. I think I was asleep before I really sank into the pillow.

Next thing I know, there are flashlights bobbing around the room. A knee in the back and my left arm getting yanked out of its socket as the cuffs are slapped on. Shouts of "KEEP DOWN" and other less kind things. The overhead lights blazed on and I was surrounded by uniforms and the business end of a couple hundred pistols.

Glad I hit the can before I fell asleep. I remember the clock reading 1:40, then changing to 1:41. I remember getting yanked out of the bed and dragged down the hall of my own house. Squad cars. Shouting. Some of it from them. A LOT of it from me. I was groggy and I was furious. A face in the crowd. My wife. The kids looking on from the neighbors bay window. The whole block had their lights on. As I was driven down the street; I remember the stink of the back seat, the mesh separating me from the two cops up front, and the silhouettes of neighbors at their windows.

There was 'processing'. There was questioning. I was so confused, I didn't even think to ask for a lawyer, even after the Maranda rights were read to me. Yah, I nodded that I understood the words. Didn't register what they meant, but I understood the words.

No, I had no idea if I had been abducted or if I had left my family of my own free will a month ago.
I was in the basement!

No, I had no idea that it was August 20th!
It is July 23rd! Well, it felt like July 22nd. Cripes, I had just fallen asleep.

Yes that is my wife. Yes, those are my kids in that picture. No I don't use recreational drugs. No I don't have favors or debts to private citizens. No, I have no record of mental illness. Yes, that is the name of my family doctor.

Long story short, I'm sleeping on a blow up mattress in the basement until the family figures out what to do with me. I haven't even looked at the paperwork for Blocgarten since I've been home. I get a chill just looking at that side of the room. My life is a cocoon of simmering fear and scalding silence right now. The only up side is that Georgie wants to have a face to face at some point over the next few days.

Whenever I can free up some time...

-I.K.