Blank-Out
06/12/06 00:23
It wasn’t
sudden or startling, but it was a gradual, creeping
thing; a dawning realization. I was looking out of my
eyes and my head buzzed as with alcohol. My teeth
were set and my jaw sore from clenching my teeth, and
I don’t know why. I slowly began to realize that I
had no idea where I was or what I was doing there. I
looked out of my eyes and saw that I had my left hand
on the steering wheel of my car, and my right was on
the shifter. It was in park.
I made no attempt to remember where I was, what the day was, what I was supposed to be doing. I just took a moment to enjoy the novelty of the situation. Heated air blew into my face, across my ears and across my hands. The cold air outside the car touched my face or hand in the irregularities of the heater, and I just sat. My head hummed comfortably, my vision moved and refocused as it does when the mind is exhausted, and I was warm in my thick poncho. My hands felt like they were in warm water, and nothing crossed my mind.
A big red SUV pulled up next to me and fell silent as three men stepped out. They watched me, and I them, as they crossed into the lighted building to my left. The third man walked slower, preoccupied with removing a beige-tipped cigarette from the box. Big windows cast big, distorted squares in orange light on the pavement in front of the building. Darkened areas in the squares that represented the three men moved and then faded as they moved away from the front of the building.
“Jactar. Jactar. Jactando. Jacto.” The word kept running through my mind, like the sound of a dripping faucet. I was whispering it out loud. “Why am I saying this word?” I thought, as my mouth continued speaking the word. What does it mean? It’s when you do something that you are proud of, and you tell somebody about it. I couldn’t remember what the other word was, if there was such a word. Then it occurred to me, “to brag.” Now why was I repeating the word for “brag”?
I wondered how long I had sat there. I still hadn’t moved a muscle except for my eyes and my mouth.. My eyes now moved to the clock, which read 10:46. What was I doing, parked in front of this building at almost 11 o’clock? The thought occurred to me that the universe had just begun. Maybe, the universe was created just seconds ago, and I was created sitting in a car in front of a building at night with the heated air blowing on my face, repeating the word "jactar. Maybe I was created with memories that would unlock as soon as something sparked them, and over time I would come to believe that the universe really had existed for all of time, not just for three minutes. I was mulling over this possibility, that I was created just moments ago, when I was interrupted.
A man with a round head, wearing a dirty apron hurriedly stalked out of the building and passed to my driver side window. I recognized the man. He triggered a memory: I had ordered food from him not 10 minutes before. He explained that they were out of tortas, but he could make me tacos if I wanted. I told him that would be fine. Another memory occurred: I was speaking Spanish. The man was speaking Spanish. I am in Mexico, and I live in an apartment in Arteaga. Piece by piece, my world began to come together. I lived in Florida. I have friends that go to UF. I have homework tonight, which is why I’m out getting dinner at this hour. I’m going home in two weeks. I had looked up a word called “jactar” earlier today, after reading it in a book.
The adjoining building, which was slightly behind me, was covered in shadow. But in the cracks around the door, the hole near the roof, and all the apertures of the building, white light burst out. It flickered and flashed, solid shafts that jutted out of the cracks, bright and quick as lightning. It looked like all of a thunderstorm’s fury packed into one room, trying to burst out the seams. But no noise emanated from the building, only silent light. Again the man with the round head and rushed gait appeared and walked toward my car. This time he had two white bags.
He brought me my tacos, and I paid him and pulled out in front of a car that honked at me and swerved. “This is ridiculous. Doesn’t he know that two minutes ago, he didn’t exist?” I recognized the intersection, and chose the correct road. In my mind, I traced in my memory the road home: past the college, over two speed bumps, past the section where the road narrows, around two curves, one more light, a low spot, a median, the plaza, a shadowy tree by a white outdoor light, my house. And when I walked in the door, I sat down and wrote this.
I made no attempt to remember where I was, what the day was, what I was supposed to be doing. I just took a moment to enjoy the novelty of the situation. Heated air blew into my face, across my ears and across my hands. The cold air outside the car touched my face or hand in the irregularities of the heater, and I just sat. My head hummed comfortably, my vision moved and refocused as it does when the mind is exhausted, and I was warm in my thick poncho. My hands felt like they were in warm water, and nothing crossed my mind.
A big red SUV pulled up next to me and fell silent as three men stepped out. They watched me, and I them, as they crossed into the lighted building to my left. The third man walked slower, preoccupied with removing a beige-tipped cigarette from the box. Big windows cast big, distorted squares in orange light on the pavement in front of the building. Darkened areas in the squares that represented the three men moved and then faded as they moved away from the front of the building.
“Jactar. Jactar. Jactando. Jacto.” The word kept running through my mind, like the sound of a dripping faucet. I was whispering it out loud. “Why am I saying this word?” I thought, as my mouth continued speaking the word. What does it mean? It’s when you do something that you are proud of, and you tell somebody about it. I couldn’t remember what the other word was, if there was such a word. Then it occurred to me, “to brag.” Now why was I repeating the word for “brag”?
I wondered how long I had sat there. I still hadn’t moved a muscle except for my eyes and my mouth.. My eyes now moved to the clock, which read 10:46. What was I doing, parked in front of this building at almost 11 o’clock? The thought occurred to me that the universe had just begun. Maybe, the universe was created just seconds ago, and I was created sitting in a car in front of a building at night with the heated air blowing on my face, repeating the word "jactar. Maybe I was created with memories that would unlock as soon as something sparked them, and over time I would come to believe that the universe really had existed for all of time, not just for three minutes. I was mulling over this possibility, that I was created just moments ago, when I was interrupted.
A man with a round head, wearing a dirty apron hurriedly stalked out of the building and passed to my driver side window. I recognized the man. He triggered a memory: I had ordered food from him not 10 minutes before. He explained that they were out of tortas, but he could make me tacos if I wanted. I told him that would be fine. Another memory occurred: I was speaking Spanish. The man was speaking Spanish. I am in Mexico, and I live in an apartment in Arteaga. Piece by piece, my world began to come together. I lived in Florida. I have friends that go to UF. I have homework tonight, which is why I’m out getting dinner at this hour. I’m going home in two weeks. I had looked up a word called “jactar” earlier today, after reading it in a book.
The adjoining building, which was slightly behind me, was covered in shadow. But in the cracks around the door, the hole near the roof, and all the apertures of the building, white light burst out. It flickered and flashed, solid shafts that jutted out of the cracks, bright and quick as lightning. It looked like all of a thunderstorm’s fury packed into one room, trying to burst out the seams. But no noise emanated from the building, only silent light. Again the man with the round head and rushed gait appeared and walked toward my car. This time he had two white bags.
He brought me my tacos, and I paid him and pulled out in front of a car that honked at me and swerved. “This is ridiculous. Doesn’t he know that two minutes ago, he didn’t exist?” I recognized the intersection, and chose the correct road. In my mind, I traced in my memory the road home: past the college, over two speed bumps, past the section where the road narrows, around two curves, one more light, a low spot, a median, the plaza, a shadowy tree by a white outdoor light, my house. And when I walked in the door, I sat down and wrote this.
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