If only this story could end here. But there are still questions that need answering. Namely: Who really is this Sam person?, Why was he in Linda’s apartment?, and What was the cause of his injury?

If you are looking for a happy ending, then I urge you to stop reading now and forever remember these two playing cards together on a rainy Saturday night, or teasing each other playfully as they shop for clothes together at the mall. But if you wish to learn the one thing that pulls this story into focus, then I’m afraid you must read on. And I’m afraid you aren’t going to like it.

As has been stated, Sam was a very kind and considerate person, and he and Linda had a peculiarly strong bond together. Linda sometimes even wondered if maybe Sam was the reincarnation of her lost son, brought back to her by some miracle from God as a reward for the care she has shown to others.

But there was a dark side to Sam as well. A well-hidden and usually dormant part of his mind that sometimes grabbed the bars of its cage and rattled the door in a rage, demanding to be let out. It fed on stress and worry and fear. When it showed up, it took control, and the usually kindhearted Sam turned into a beast without thought, without remorse, without empathy.

The first time this beast appeared was about two months after Sam moved into the apartment. He hadn’t felt well that day, and retired straight to his bedroom after work, neglecting his turn to do the dishes.

When Linda came home that night, she was in an unusually bad mood because of some problems she was facing at the hospital. She was also very tired after her long shift, so when she went into the kitchen to get something to eat, only to find a sink full of smelly dishes, she was not happy at all.

While she did not confront Sam about it face-to-face, she did passive-aggressively make her complaints known as she aired them loudly while noisily doing the dishes.

Her ranting and banging startled Sam out of sleep. Once he realized that her anger was directed at him, he reflexively folded himself up, hugged his knees, and rocked back and forth. He looked at something only he could see beside his bed and started mumbling, “We don’t like the noise, do we, Einstein? No, we don’t like the noise. We don’t like the noise.”

But the noise continued. Sam became more and more agitated until finally he could stand it no more. He sprang out of bed, and flung open his door so hard that the doorknob smashed through the wall. He came screaming into the kitchen, yelling at the top of his lungs, “Einstein doesn’t like the noise! You’re scaring him! Shut up! Shut up! Shuuuuuut uuuuup!”

He ended his tirade by smashing a few dishes and stomping back to his bedroom, slamming and locking the door behind him.

Linda had no idea how to respond to this. She stood frozen in terror and confusion through the whole ordeal. After Sam went back to his room, she finally felt like she could release the breath that she had been holding the whole time. Tears flowed down her cheeks, not so much from sadness, but from an unconscious reaction to the sudden stress.

She began sweeping up the shards of the broken plates while her mind replayed the last few minutes over and over, looking for answers. She eventually calmed down and was able to think rationally again. She asked herself, why was he so angry, and what was that about Einstein? It made no sense. Sam made no sense. Was he on drugs? Is this related to his head trauma? What the heck was going on?

And then she realized what it must have been. He must have been sleepwalking. He must have been dreaming. That was it. That would make sense.

The next morning, Sam greeted her with no sign that anything had happened the night before. When she finally broached the subject with him, he thought that she was joking, and suggested that maybe she was the one that had been dreaming. But the broken plates in the trash suggested otherwise.

They agreed that it must have been some weird dream state caused by him not feeling well, and perhaps by him taking too many cold relief pills.

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So the two of them made up and managed to turn the whole thing into a joke. Whenever one of them wanted to get out of doing chores, he or she would say something like, “Einstein doesn’t like to do the laundry!”

Life went on, and the two remained very close. But then it happened again, about a year after the first incident.

This time it started when Linda brought home a small dog as a favor for a friend. When she walked it through the door of the apartment, it immediately started barking at Sam.

“Hey! What’s all this about? You’re sicking the dogs on me now? I swear I was just about to do the vacuuming,” joked Sam.

“Sorry about this. I’m watching him for a friend while she’s on vacation. It will only be for a week. I’m sure he’ll calm down,” explained Linda.

“No worries. He’s sleeping in your room, though,” said Sam with a smirk.

Sam had off from work the next day. He was trying to relax while lounging on the sofa and watching television. To his annoyance, the dog was still his bitter enemy. It kept creeping out from Linda’s bedroom, getting within a few feet of Sam, and then barking its head off and running away. It was cute at first, but after an hour, it started to get on his nerves.

The dog did it once again, but this time Sam lunged at it. “We don’t like it when it barks at us, do we, Einstein?”

And then suddenly Sam was in the woods. He was kneeling down and patting a mound of dirt. He jumped back from the mound and landed awkwardly on his rear end, catching himself with his hands. He scrabbled away from the mound in a panic. “What did I do? Oh my god, what did I do?”

He started to shake, and his breathing became erratic. He made himself approach the mound again. By the time he was in front of it, he was nearly hyperventilating. He began to slowly dig up the mound with his hands, hoping to God to find anything other than what he suspected.

When he eventually found a patch of brown fir, his fears were confirmed and he began sobbing uncontrollably. His tears fell on the makeshift grave as he once again covered it with dirt.

Later that night, when Linda came home, Sam cried as he apologized to her about the dog. He begged her forgiveness for accidentally letting it out, and said that he would do anything she asked to make up for the mistake.

Linda knew Sam well enough to know that she wasn’t getting the whole story from him. But she saw that he was obviously remorseful, and pressing him for details would only make things worse. And look at the poor dear, soaked to the bone from running around in the rain while looking for the dog. Sure, she was upset at him, but she also felt bad for him too. She decided that she would forgive him.

Again they made up, and again everything was peaches and cream between the two of them for another year or so. That is, until the boyfriend arrived.

“Sam, I want you to meet Jack. Jack, this is my son, Sam.” Linda smiled as the two men shook hands and exchanged pleasantries.

“Jack is also a nurse at the hospital. We’ve actually been seeing each other for a while now, just going to dinner and whatnot, but things are getting more serious between us now so I wanted you two to meet.”

“Oh, Linda, that’s great!” enthused Sam. “I’m sure it is hard for a nurse to have a social life, what with the odd hours and everything. I’m glad you found someone that will understand. I’m really happy for you.”

“Linda?” inquired Jack. “He calls you Linda?”

Linda explained the situation to Jack, while Sam resumed eating his spaghetti lunch. He listened as Linda recounted the story of their first meeting, and all that they had been through together since that time. He really liked Linda. She really was like his mom now.

He wondered if she would still have time for him now that Jack was in the picture, and then dismissed the thought as juvenile. What am I, ten?

As if reading his thoughts, Jack looked at him and asked, “You’re a little old to still be living at home with mommy, aren’t you, champ?”

Sam replied, “We don’t like him, do we, Einstein? We hate, him, don’t we? We hate him.”

The next thing he remembered was Linda struggling to hold him back, while Jack stood dazed in front of him with a fork stuck deep into his upper arm, and blood oozing down from it.