Chapter two: A Memory Lost

Bruce Banner was a small man with almost too power at all. He stood alone, by himself, in the nation of Niganda, alone in a local bar.

"Fill her up?" a rugged white man looked him in the eyes.

"No." Bruce said, looking off, "I've had enough."

"There's an unusual thing about you, aint there?" The bartender said, "A man who knows he's had enough."

"You could say that." Bruce said, standing from his seat.

Bruce walked out of the bar, and into the poverty of the African streets. He remembered yesterday, and the day before that. But he didn't know how he got to be where he was. There were weeks blocked out- weeks he didn't know what had happened or what he did. That's the part that scared him half to death. The fact that he knew why. He knew why he left.

Bruce! Darling! Bruce, get up, the children need their father! Bruce!

Bruce rose from a haunting sleep. He could remember the nightmare like it was real and happened just seconds ago. He could almost know her- and he missed her like nothing he could possibly describe. She was his wife, the lovely Betty Ross. And the faces of a daughter, and a son. But that life was gone now. He couldn't have it, not that kind of simplicity. He could never escape his hulking nature.

"Sir?" a thin African woman looked to him, "Sir, can I help?"

Bruce turned to the woman.

"Help?" Bruce repeated, half asleep.

She smiled, with a smile that could light up the world.

"So funny sir." She said, "Could I give you a lift out of here? You look like you need a change, that's for sure."

Bruce thought about it for a moment.

"Sure." Bruce said, "I think that's exactly what I need."

She smiled.

"Good." She said, "I have an elephant. It may seem old fashioned, but I can get you where you're going."

Bruce nodded.

"Well, I've always wanted a little adventure." He lied, "What's your name?"

"Shuri." She said, "And you, sir?"

"Bruce." He said, "Bruce Banner."

"Ah, an American." She said.

"How'd you know?" he laughed.

They walked out of the ditch together.