Walter Blythe woke up, confused. Where am I? He pondered, This doesn't look familiar. Doesn't look like I'm in the trenches, either. Oh - the trenches! Am I in Heaven?
A kind-looking man came into the room.
"Who are you? Where am I? What happened?" Walter questioned, confused.
"I'm your doctor, Max de Boer. You're in the hospital. You had a concussion, and you haven't woken up since. It's a miracle you've awoken." The doctor responded calmly.
"A coma? For how long?"
"Nine years"
"NINE YEARS? How can it be? How did I get it? Where is my family?"
"Yes, nine years ago you first lay here. We are not quite sure how you got it. We don't know who your family is, nor who you are."
"I'm Walter Cuthbert Blythe." Walter spoke impatiently. Nine years. Then it must be 1925.
"You were supposed to be dead!" The doctor exclaimed in awe.
"Dead? But where am I?"
"Holland."
Walter suddenly noticed the accent in his voice; Dutch.
"Let me go home, please!"
"Well, you see, we don't know where you're from."
"Glen St. Mary, Prince Edward Island, Canada."
"Canada? That's quite the trip. You can't make it on your own, at least not now."
"Well, can someone accompany me then? It's urgent! I haven't seen my family in 9 years! They think me dead!"
"Yes. I will accompany you. I have some family myself in Canada. The next boat leaves tomorrow at 19:00. Be ready then."
"I will. Thank you Mr. de Boer."
"It's my job. Now drift off to sleep."
Walter sank into his pillow, but he couldn't sleep the whole evening.