LOST

Stew’s new apartment was silent for the moment, as he and Alex were not yet home from grocery shopping. The coffee table was covered with half-full boxes of books and CDs—he had started to arrange them on the tall bookshelf but had not finished. There was no closet except for the one for the Murphy bed, but the apartment did have a wheeled clothes rack in the corner that looked like it came from a department store. It was empty and waiting for the pile of clothes that sat on the couch.

Alex was not an interior decorator, nor did she want to be, but she did have a unique sense of style when it came to enhancing a living space. Her tastes tended to be a little gothic, a little punk, a lot of black, a lot of red. Candles, incense, little gargoyle statues, and framed concert posters from various modern rock bands. She had taken a box of Stew’s old t-shirts that his mom threatened to throw away and made patchwork throw-pillows out of them. Her and Stew found a dark-red tapestry with a dragon design on it at a new age store and she hung it over the window in the living room. When the sun shined through it, it was like a blood-red sunset.

Stew’s collection of Norwegian Nyform trolls stood on a mantle beside the door. Alex thought they were hideous and did not like them at all, but Stew refused to part with them. He had told her he inherited his first one from his grandfather when he was twelve and began increasing his collection from then on. Though his grandfather died when Stew was fifteen, he felt his patriarch watching over him through the eyes of the trolls. Alex had looked at the six ugly trolls as Stew told his story and was so touched by it that she had promised never to force him to get rid of them, no matter how she felt about them.

Stew unlocked and opened the door and Alex walked in carrying four bags of groceries. Stew picked up the other four bags and followed her.

“We’ll have to go back to the store before too long,” Alex said. “We didn’t get you any cleaning stuff.” She set the bags down on the table and sighed. “It’s alright. You’ll be okay until we can get back to the store.”

“Yeah, I’m not that dirty,” Stew replied.

“Okay,” she chuckled. “I’m sorry I won’t be here this afternoon to help you finish getting settled, but after class I’ll pick up something for dinner and bring it by. We’ll celebrate you getting your job back. Okay?”

“My interview isn’t until this afternoon.”

“I know, but I’m sure you’ll do fantastic.”

There was a knock on the door. Stew opened it and in the doorway was a strange man he did not recognize.

“Can I help you?” Stew asked.

Alex careened her neck around the open door to see who it was. “Oh, Wiz! Hey!” she exclaimed and then remembered she was mad at him. “Where the hell have you been?”

“I’m sorry. I should have called, but… I was just embarrassed about standing you guys up for lunch. Will you accept my apologies?”

“I suppose. Stew, this…” she breathed deeply before continuing, trying to keep her emotions in check, “…is the man who saved your life. Stew, meet Wiz. ”

Stew reached out his hand to shake Wiz’s and froze as the events of that day flooded his mind. The ravens, the theater, the alley.

“Stew? You okay?” asked Alex, worried.

“Yeah, yeah. Just a bit overwhelmed. Sorry,” Stew said, now shaking Wiz’s hand more enthusiastically. “Wiz, is it?”

“Yes. Again, I apologize for coming by unannounced, and after disappearing but it’s wonderful to get the chance to actually meet and talk to you.”

“Yes, it is. I was hoping I could meet you sooner. I mean, even before that day with the lunch.”

“Yeah, me too, but…”

“I thought you two already knew each other,” Alex interrupted.

“Well, we do. It’s just going to take some time for Stew to remember.”

“We know each other?” As Stew looked at Wiz and tried to remember, he saw a furry face and a tongue peek out from behind Wiz’s legs.

“Yes, we do,” Wiz said.

“Who’s your friend?”

Wiz looked down and realized the dog behind him was trying to introduce himself. “Oh, him? That’s Goose. And I brought him for you.” Wiz handed Stew a black, leather collar and a black, nylon leash.

“For me? I don’t know…” Stew shook his head, hesitantly holding out his hand to accept the collar and leash, unsure about the responsibilities that come with dog ownership.

“Come on, Stew. See how you like the dog before you turn him away,” Alex encouraged Stew, nudging him in the shoulder.

“Okay, okay,” Stew said as he bent down and put his hand out for the dog to smell and Goose came to meet him. “He’s not going to be a big dog,” Stew said, noting the dog’s small paws.

“No, he’s grown,” Wiz told him.

Goose sniffed Stew’s palm and licked it. They looked in each other’s eyes and Stew felt something, a deep connection, like reconnecting with a high school best friend after twenty years. Then, as Stew stood up, Goose walked closer to Stew and sat on his feet.

“He likes you,” Wiz said, stating the obvious.

“Wait. I know you. Goose. Yeah. Spill the Beans. And you,” Stew looked at Wiz. “I met you there, too.”

“Indeed,” Wiz said quietly and nodded.

“I wonder if I have anything that would resemble a treat.” Stew retreated to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator.

“He’ll eat just about anything,” Wiz pointed out.

“Well, I have some leftover pizza. Not the healthiest, but it will do until I can pick up something else.” He pulled out the pizza box and set it on the counter. As he put a piece on a plate for Goose, Alex came over to him.

“If you’re not ready for a dog, I’m sure Wiz will understand. I had no idea about him or I would have warned you,” Alex whispered apologetically.

“No, I think we’ll be fine. It was just unexpected. He reminds me of the dog I had growing up.” Stew brought the plate over to the door and invited Goose inside. “Wiz… you want to come inside? ”

“Sure,” Wiz said as he walked into Stew’s apartment.

“I’m sorry, guys, but I have to go to class,” Alex said, kissing Stew on the cheek. She turned to Wiz, “The next time you disappear without telling anyone, I’m going to kick your butt. Understand?”

“Yes. I understand,” Wiz replied, bowing his head in a request for forgiveness.

Stew put the plate on the hardwood floor in front of the door and Goose immediately began scarfing it down.

“Well, you two are off to a good start,” Alex said as she stood in the doorway. “I’ll see you guys in a couple of hours. Wiz… stick around and we’ll have dinner. ”

“Okay. Thanks. ”

“So, where do we know each other from? I mean, besides the coffeehouse…” Stew asked as Alex shut the door behind her. “If you knew me then, why didn’t you say something then?”

“Let’s sit down and I’ll explain it. It’s going to take more than a minute or two. ”

“Okay. Well, have a seat,” Stew pointed at the couch, which was covered in clothes. “Let me get those. I haven’t finished unpacking just yet.”

“It’s quite alright.” Wiz waited for Stew to move the clothes and then made himself comfortable on the couch. Stew came back from putting them on the bed and sat down on the loveseat. Goose followed suit, jumping up and sitting next to Stew.

“Goose!” Wiz scolded. “Where are your manners?”

“No. He’s all right,” Stew said, petting Goose’s ears. Goose lay down and put his head and paws on Stew’s lap. His tongue quickly darted out of his mouth and snatched a pizza crumb off his nose.

“All right. Why don’t you start with where we met?” Stew asked, anxious to find out how he knew Wiz.

“Well, I don’t think that’s the right place for us to begin.”

“That would be the beginning, right?” Stew said with a hint of sarcasm.

“Yes, but you can’t always start at the beginning.”

“Okay. I’m confused. Where do we start then?”

“Do you believe in God, Stew?”

“Do I believe in God? Wait. Don’t tell me. You’re Jesus. ”

“No, no. Let me put it differently—what’s your stance on religion?”

“Religion? Well, I’m not big on organized religion. I guess you could say I’m still trying to figure things out. Does that answer your question?”

“Yes. That will do. Now, do you believe in reincarnation?”

“I think it’s plausible. I haven’t seen any proof but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen.”

“But it’s not something you’ve explored? ”

“No. What does this have to do with you and me? Did you teach philosophy at Salisbury High?”

“No. I’m going to stop beating around the bush and just say it. Stew… you and I… we’re brothers.”

“Excuse me? My parents never mentioned—”

“That is, we were brothers in a former life. But the connection we had… we didn’t just stop being brothers.”

“Okay, go on. There was too much hype for that to be it. How do you know we were brothers in a former life?”

“Because, even though it was a former life for you, it wasn’t for me.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I’ve been searching for you for over twelve-hundred years.”

“That’s a long time,” Stew replied, not yet understanding the full weight of Wiz was trying to suggest.

“You have no idea.”

“Wait—are you saying that you carry the memory of me from life to life or that you’re twelve-hundred years old?”

“Twelve-hundred and seventy-five, to be exact.”

“Okay, now I know you’re full of bull. You can leave now.”

“Stew, wait. I know it’s hard to believe…”

“Hard to believe? Nah. It’s hard to believe I listened to you for so long.”

“Okay, impossibly hard to believe but just hear me out.”

“No, thank you. You know at first, I thought you were a Bible-thumper and that you were thinking I owed it to you to listen to your nonsensical questions since you saved my life and I should give you the opportunity to save my soul, too. But now, I can see that you’re just a loon on a three-day pass from the insane asylum.” Stew opened the door and gestured with his hand for Wiz to leave. “Thanks for the dog. I’ll see you…” Stew remembered something. “Wait a second. If it was you in Spill the Beans last Spring, have you been following me ever since?” Wiz stood in the doorway, unable to give an acceptable answer. “That knock on the head must have affected my memory a bit, too.”

“Stew… you have to understand… I’d been looking for you for twelve centuries and… well… I guess I was unprepared to find you.”

“I’m calling Detective Alderman. She’s got to—”

“She already knows.”

“She does?”

“Yes.”

“She doesn’t believe you, though.”

“She does or else, I would be sitting in a jail cell right now.”

“I still think it’s bullcrap. She might have bought your story. Not me. Bye, Wiz. I have boxes to unpack and an interview to get ready for.” Stew clenched his jaw and waited for Wiz to vacate the doorway so he wouldn’t have to slam the door in his face.

Wiz accepted the fact that he had lost the battle, but knew that the war was not yet over. He would have to come up with a way to show Stew that it was not bullcrap. But he was determined to find a way. He walked through the door, looking, sorrowfully, back at Stew and then at Goose, who looked dutifully back at Wiz, knowing that he, once again and for the first time in over a millennium, was with his master.