“JUST TELL ME THE ADDRESS,” THE DOCTOR INSISTED, SEARCHING FOR HIS CAR IN THE GARAGE.

“No,” Timothy replied stubbornly. His dog, who was in his cage, yapped an agreement.

“Fine. Have it your way. Walk. Besides, if you get injured on your walk home, I’m the one profiting. You’ll have to pay me to heal your injuries.”

“So be it.”

The doctor groaned. “Why are you specialists so stubborn?”

“I agree. You are a pretty stubborn medical specialist.” Timothy stuck out his tongue petulantly.

“Ugh,” the doctor sighed, rolling his eyes. “Then tell me where to drop you off.”

“Oh, no doctor. My small errand is too trivial for you. Time is money, right doc?” Timothy replied sarcastically, “You don’t have to drive the ten miles just to drop me off at the park on Helix street. I’ll just walk there with me sore legs.”

“Hmph,” the doctor groaned, “fine. I’ll get you an Uber.”

“What! No, no, no. That was sarcasm. Please don’t call an Uber!”

“Don’t worry. I have an Uber app on my phone. Helix Street, you said? If sure there will be plenty drivers willing to drive you. You’ll have to pay, of course.”

“Wait doc! Forget what I said. I don’t trust Ubers.”

“No, no. You were right. Time is money. I’d rather have someone else waste their time driving you.”

“I’ll, I’ll,” Timothy stammered, “I’ll pay you! In taxi fare!”

“That’s more like it.” The doctor finally located his family van, unlocking it with the key. Timothy moved to sit in the front. “No animals in the front. Sit in the back,” the doctor ordered.

“What?” Timothy wasn’t sure if it was he or his dog that had been called an animal.

“Sit in the back.”

Timothy huffed angrily, opening the back door reluctantly. The doctor strapped himself in, and Timothy followed suit. The engine roared, and the car began to move.

The ride was quiet. Any attempts at conversation was immediately turned down by the doctor, insisting that talking would break his concentration. Timothy, fearing for his life, didn’t argue. Timothy’s dog, however, was constantly barking and scratching at the bars.

Timothy’s dog was a tiny Alaskan Malamute, commonly mistaken for a husky. However, instead of growing gigantic, his dog was only about the size of a large pug. Timothy called him Stapes—the smallest bone in the human body, due to his small size.

The car screeched at braked at the corner of Helix street. Timothy thanked the doctor and paid his fares. He barely stepped on the sidewalk before the car speeded away. Stapes barked at the car for the last time, before continuing to whine and scratch at the cage.

“I know, Stapes,” Timothy murmured soothingly, “but I don’t have your leash. I’ll take you out as soon as we get home.”

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Timothy set out on his way. People still threw him glares, but Timothy didn’t mind. He was close to home, and then he could change. His legs ached though, from walking through the woods.

“Ugh!” Timothy spat, colliding with a woman. Papers flew everywhere. “I’m sorry.”

The woman was on the ground. She looked up.

Timothy gave a start. Pronounced dark circles were under her baggy eyes. Her cheeks were so shallow they were non-existent. Her graying hair was unbrushed. Timothy bent down to pick of the papers.

The woman beat him to it, clawing and shuffling to gather the papers. She shoved one into Timothy’s face. “Have you seen my child?” she rasped.

Timothy pried the paper of his face, secretly deciding whether or not he should let Stapes out as a precaution against this mad woman.

On the paper was a large, blurred photo of a female with dark hair, dark eyes, and a forced smile. Timothy certainly didn’t know the girl. But something about her…

McDonalds.

She was the girl in the woods.

Timothy read the day she had gone missing. Sunday. The day he lost his memory.

“Actually, miss,” Timothy replied, surprising even himself, “I did see her. In the woods at McDonalds.”

“McDonalds? The one that blew up?” the woman cried.

“Er, yes. That would be the—” The woman gripped Timothy’s arm.

“Hey! Hey! Help!” Timothy hollered. Stapes barked.

“Shut up! You may be the last person who saw my daughter! The authorities need to know about this!”

“Hey! Miss? I’m sorry for your loss but—” Timothy yelled. The woman took no notice of him. “Um, can you please let me go?”

More people began to stare. But the woman continued to pull Timothy across the street, like a mother dragging a struggling child home. Timothy played his part as a child by screaming and yelling to be let go. Stapes was still in the doggie cage, which had toppled to its side from Stapes’s weight.

“Let me go!” Timothy hollered. Passersby murmured to each other, wondering what they should do. Eventually they decided to do nothing. None of them wanted to get mixed up in any trouble. Timothy couldn’t blame them, of course. He wouldn’t have wanted anything to do with a insomniac woman capable of dragging a grown man along the street. Timothy too, eventually gave up his struggles, followed the woman’s commands.

They arrived at a small blue house. The paint was old and cracking, but it didn’t look run-down. The woman pushed Timothy to the door, and unlocked it with a numeric keypad. Timothy looked away.

The door buzzed open. Timothy stepped in. The woman kicked off her shoes and started inside. Timothy stood at the hallway, wondering if he should take off his shoes as well. Finally, he decided to keep them on, even if it was a little disrespectful. The last thing he wanted was to worry about his feet if the woman was every going to start chasing him.

Tentatively, Timothy walked in to the living room.

Inside was a police officer, looking very bored, cradling a mug of coffee. The woman was talking to the officer in a rush glibberish.

“—this man says he saw Marine at the McDonalds the day it exploded. The McDonalds on highway 23? You know the gas incident? He said he saw her. Do you think that she…Marine…” the woman choked.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Miss,” the officer replied in a drawling voice, “No dead bodies were found on the day of the accident.”

“Erm, excuse me officer?” Timothy coughed.

“Ah!” the officer jumped, the coffee dancing along with him. “So you must be the man.”

“Er, yes.”

“Hm,” the officer murmured. “You look familiar. You haven’t been in any trouble with the police before, have you?”

Timothy caught the woman sneaking off to the second floor. He was glad to be away from her. She made him uneasy. Not that being interrogated by a police officer was any better, of course.

“Well?” the officer asked, impatiently.

“Oh, no. Never. Though it’s likely you’ve seen my face before. My name is Timothy Blake Fletcher, if that rings a bell?”

The officer furrowed his brow, then whipped out his phone and typed the name in the search engine. “Ah, yes. That’s right. Just did some discovery of bones?”

“Uh, yes. Something like that.” Timothy was rather offended by his job being called ‘bones’, but decided it wouldn’t be smart to lecture an officer.

“Can’t imagine why you spend so much time doing something like that,” the officer continued, completely oblivious to Timothy’s glares, “But anyway, we’re not here to talk about the better job. Do you know where this girl is?”

“Um, no. But you shouldn’t take my conscious word for it.”

“What?”

“Well,” Timothy explained, “I don’t remember anything after the explosion.”

“Now this is odd,” the officer muttered.