Lost Thought

There was something I had to remember
Something I wanted to do or to say.
Something I told myself not to forget;
I've been thinking about it all day.

I knew what it was just a moment ago
But now it has slipped my mind
Oh right, of course, it was - oh no!
I had it, then lost it again.

What was it, what was it?!
It was really essential
What was the topic? Do I know that bit?
The answer, unfortunately, is no.

Sitting here, looking up at the sky
Wondering what I've forgotten
Distracted - look! something catches my eye -
Ah well, I guess we'll never know.

Ellie

I’m sitting propped up against some pillows on the hospital bed, reading a book when the bright blue balloon floats in. I can’t see it clearly, since I’m only wearing reading glasses, but I can tell from the moment it comes in that the words “Spirit of Adventure” are written in cursive on the side in black sharpie. It’s been so many years since I’ve seen a balloon like that; and last time, I was on the sending end. In that split second, a wave of childhood memories washes over me. The first day we met, and the subsequent trip to the hospital. The moment I walked into class on the first day of school and noticed him sitting in the front of the classroom. The time we spent an entire day reading about South Africa in the library, getting there right when the library opened and grumbling when the librarian told us we had to go home. South Africa had always been important to us; the first thing that brought us together. There were other things, of course, but Paradise Falls was that one dream that both of us held most dear. As we grew older, I began to recognize the possibility that that particular dream might not come true. In Carl, however, the dream seemed to always be growing. That day I came back from the doctor, he looked so exuberant; I wish I had let him talk first. But after I told him the prognosis, his expression grew solemn and he refused to tell me his news. I still wonder what he had to say…

Carl walks in after the balloon holding something brown. He gives me a kiss and lays the brown object next to me. It’s my old Adventure Book! The little photo album – scrap book that I had used to document my dreams, until my real one walked in on me that beautiful day. I try to say “thank you,” to my dear Carl, but it comes out as a hoarse whisper. I give a little smile instead. We stay like that for a while, each enjoying the other’s company.

“I’m sorry, Ellie,” he whispers finally. “I crossed my heart, but I didn’t keep the promise. The biggest promise.” He looks straight at me, tears forming in his eyes. I put my hand on his, trying to comfort.

“I’ve already gotten my dream,” I want to say, but the nurse comes bustling in, and tells Carl his visiting time is over.  Looking at the album in my hands, I have an idea. I motion to the nurse.

“Could you bring me my purse? There are some photos I’d like to add to this album,” I say to her. The nurse helps me put the pictures in. Before she give me my medicine, I write Carl a note.

“Thanks for the adventure. Now go have a new one. Love, Ellie.”

I want him to understand. I need him to understand – with him, I was living right next to Paradise Falls all along. 

Idea Consultant: A Pepper Perspective

Hooray! Finally, a story with an ending....

My ears perk up as I hear the garage door open. She's home! Always the first to arrive. I shake my head and sit up on the couch, watching the front door. She tramps in, carrying her large backpack as usual. She sees me on the couch and nods hello before heading to the kitchen. There’s a trace of peanut butter emanating from the lunch box in her hand; I jump off the couch to follow it. She drops her backpack next to the couch and opens the fridge. I watch as she takes out a box of grapes, washes them, sticks them in a bowl, then sits on the couch to eat them. I follow, ears flicking back and forth, watching the bowl of grapes.

“You want one, Pepper?” she asks me. I lay my head down on her knee and look up at her to reply. My reward is a small grape, which I chew on happily for a few seconds. I look up again, hopeful for another, but she just laughs at me, pats my head and says, “Only one, silly.” I jump onto the couch beside her and curl up. She strokes my back absentmindedly. I am a very content mini schnauzer at the moment. 

“So, what do you think, Pepper?” she asks. Time to sleep, I say to myself.

“What should I research for history?” The history of the couch is my reply. It’s very important – It’s where I sleep!

“Maybe… student protests, or counter culture?” she goes on. “What do you think it’d be like to be in university during the 60’s? Would you like living on the land, trying to create a utopian society?” Her hand moves to my head, and she looks down at me. I stare lazily back at her and blink a few times. I like playing in the backyard. Does that count?

“I don’t think you’d like it. You wouldn’t have your warm beds,” she says, answering her own question. I close my eyes and try to fall asleep. She goes on, bouncing ideas off me for a while, talking about things that sound important. I start to snore.

“Hm. Yeah. I think I’ll do that,” I hear her say in the distance. “Thanks, Pepper!”

Anytime! I’m here for you.

She gets up, swings the backpack over her shoulder, and heads upstairs. I no longer have a head rest, but I decide I'm too comfortable to waste energy moving now.

I’m a very good idea consultant, I think. I deserve a treat. Or at least a nice, long nap…