Frasier shifted under the weight of the clothes. Lemonhope had realised that he didn't have any lyrics to the song that he wanted to play for Obed when he reached the door. He had been sitting there strumming his harp and looking into the quickly darkening sky. He never thought that creating a song for Obed would be this hard, but he wanted it to be perfect. He knew that if he failed, Obed would rot away in his hut along with any hope for him to remember who he even was.

"Are you sure we can do this?" asked Frasier. "This has been taking forever, I just want to return the clothes now."
Lemonhope held up his hand toward Frasier for silence. Then he looked toward Frasier with a twinkle in his eye, still holding up his hand. "I got it," he said and was met with a high-five from Frasier.
Lemonhope was finally ready. Truly ready. He stood up and knocked on the door before Frasier could bombard the door with rapid knocks.

Not a second later and the door opened to reveal Obed in all his dishevelled glory. "Is it Halloween already?" asked Obed. "Wait, don't tell me what the two of you are, I'll guess. You must be an angel with your harp, and you must be a giant evil moth with your pile of clothes!"
Obed looked excited to see if he was right. Frasier replied with rapid fire speech, "It's not Halloween, these are your clothes and we're here to give them to you."
Lemonhope wondered if Obed understood any of that as he struggled to understand what Frasier said himself.

Frasier thrust the clothes into Obed's hands before he could respond to Frasier's impatient behaviour. Obed seemed to understand the clothes better than anything else Frasier could have possibly said. "Oh, so you're here to give me some clothes for my child!" said Obed. "Always wanted one but never had the time try and make one. A pity really. I really appreciate the thought though."
His eyes seemed to glaze over for a second and he stared beyond the duo off into the distance. His mouth hung open and some drool started to pour out. Before Lemonhope could ask if Obed was okay, the old Fishman slurped up the string of spit and looked back at the two confused friends. "Good morning, how can I help you fine chaps?"

Lemonhope was taken aback by the clear reset of Obed's memory. His memory was in a terrible state and might have been getting worse as they were talking to him. "Obed, we're here to help you," said Lemonhope in a determined fashion.
"Who's Obed?" replied Obed, clearly confused.
"Your memory is completely donked up and we need to fix it as soon as possible."
"If you want some tea you can just ask you know."
Looks like a direct approach won't work. Lemonhope decided to reorient his approach and play into the old Fishman's delusions. "We'd love to have some tea!" said Lemonhope in his most friendly tone of voice.
Obed turned around and started walking into the hut. He raised his left hand and waved towards the two to come in.

Frasier stayed behind for a bit after Lemonhope entered the hut. He had no clue as to what just happened. It was like listening to two old ladies who could barely hear anymore talking to each other. It made him wonder if Lemonhope really knew what he was doing. His friend did seem confident in his ability to bring people back from the brink, but Frasier had only seen it happen once and it was with himself. He didn't want to doubt Lemonhope, but he did. He felt terrible for doing so and scolded himself for dwindling into that line of thinking. He then realised Lemonhope was already setting up whatever ritual he planned and dashed inside, not wanting to be left out.

Lemonhope had gathered all the items which he deemed to have been important to Obed all the while making sure that he was never out of Obed's sight. He didn't want a repeat of earlier that day, but he wasn't sure that just staying in Obed's view would be a guarantee, so he made his setup with haste. He was now sitting across Obed in the living room in the same couch that he sat in earlier that day. Frasier jumped over the back of the couch and slid into his seat exited to see what happened next. Lemonhope looked over what he gathered. The Picture of Obed with his family, the oldest self-portrait, and the music box. He opened the music box in order to let it play its song. With this, Lemonhope began to strum:

You used to know your name
but now you've broken down
so here I will obtain
your past and truest pain

Obed will you hear me?
Obed do you know me?

You come from the line of Marsh
and your loss has made them harsh
against you

All that you have lost
want you to know
who you were
and can be

Dearest Obed
do you know me?

The music box closed itself when Lemonhope finished. Obed had a tear in his eye and seemed enchanted by the music. "That was the most beautiful song I have ever heard," sobbed Obed. "What's your name, stranger?"
"Lemonhope," replied the happy little lemon boy.
"What's your name, stranger?" asked Obed the very same way as he asked before.
"Lemonhope," replied a now confused Lemonhope.
"What's your name, stranger?"
"Lemonhope," replied a concerned Lemonhope.
"What's your name, stranger?"
"Lemonhope!" shouted Lemonhope in dismay.

He failed, yet he was certain that the song would work. He had made a song with everything that he knew of the old Fishman, but it wasn't enough. Lemonhope curled into a ball and began to sob. Was he any good at music at all? Had people just been falsely praising his songs or thought he was better than he really was? Was fat Lemongrab right?

Frasier was at a loss for words and actions. He didn't think that Lemonhope's song would work, but he didn't expect Lemonhope to react this extremely to failing. He looked at Obed who didn't seem to care and was now looking at the family picture with a puzzled expression. He was no Obed, not anymore. He was just a crazy Fishman who had a lot of stuff that some Obed guy owned. If no memory existed, neither did Obed. The only Obed that would live on was the one that his family and the pictures knew. Frasier finally decided that giving Lemonhope a hug would help the most. "Let's go. It's almost completely dark and I don't think it would be wise to sleep here," he said softly.

Lemonhope gave a sniff and looked at Frasier with a tear streaked face. "Am I a good musician?" asked Lemonhope.
"The best I've ever known," was all Frasier could say as he helped up his friend.
Obed seemed to now be enjoying riding his chair and almost falling over each time, not even noticing the two leave. They could hear Obed blowing raspberries as they left the hut. The night had completely fallen, and the dark new moon helped create a pitch-black night. Frasier had to feel for the road beneath his feet and struggled to do so as Lemonhope had given up on walking. His friend's misery was a real damper on his mood.

He decided to give up on the two of them walking further down the road for a good campsite, and sat down, with Lemonhope plopping down next to him. Not seeing any sticks in the darkness, Frasier used his power to use the grass around him. With it he felt for sticks on the grass. When he did find some, he made them glide across the grass towards him and then started to arrange a campfire. The cold was getting intense and he hurried his efforts. Within a few minutes he had enough wood for a good campfire to light up the area and to heat them up. After rubbing a few sticks together, he kindled a fire. A while later and he began to feel the warmth and could see the small surrounding area, including Lemonhope who seemed to have fallen asleep.

"This is gonna be a long night," surmised Frasier. He looked up at the stars and wondered what his friend could be dreaming about. Maybe it was about club ice since he just got another memory to forget about.