Some things kind of stick in your mind, don't they

Some things kind of stick in your mind, don't they?

Significant things, trivial things. I find it hard to sort the nuisance memories from the useful ones. That's why I like driving this car without the roof. I get a sense of freedom, my head clears and I start to put my life in order, gain a bit of perspective.

Take Hannah for instance. She has such a crystal clear mind; she cuts right to the heart of any matter. When I tell her about the strange woman in my head, she'll tell me straight what to do about it. And the man too, the man called Eddie with the earring. That is a bizarre thing that earring, I would never hook up with an earring guy. Not now I am respectable.

I'm going to tell her about the sword that killed Lincoln and the Airstream Trailer.

That trailer, so vivid I can almost walk into it right now and tell you exactly where everything is. For example there is Eddie's chair, the one that he swivels round in to give me a piece of earth shattering news like I was kidnapped at the age of 12 or the reward for capturing me has gone up another thousand dollars- weird things. There's his computer, switched on and searching the web for references to words in the quatrains. There's his model of a wise monkey, and up there his Route 66 plaque by his white hat. Over here is the fridge with his Jolt cola and the makings of a disgusting sandwich inside. A discarded plate here on the counter top next to a mug of cold coffee and a pair of sunglasses. Over here, my bed, still warm from my body, the blankets all wrinkled. Here a pile of laundry waiting for Eddie to hang it out, on the top a pair of orange knee length socks. A Bulls cap, a black and white photograph of a soldier, a Hawks bag containing tools of the trade. My trade. A fake ID. Another fake ID. And another. With my face on all of them.

As I look around I am hit by a profound sense of loss, it's like a blow to my stomach.

There's another bag and in it I know there is a rifle. I know Eddie used that rifle and thinking of it brings cold chills to my body.

Who are we?

The bag that rests beside it is just as familiar to me. It's a medical bag full of equipment that would normally belong to a paramedic.

If I pull back the shades and look out of the window, I know I will see a hammock and an old worn Cadillac. A Caddy that has come to my rescue like a white horse bearing a knight in shining armour more times than I can count. Eddie's Caddy.

My white knight is Eddie.

A rail here with our clothes hung up neatly waiting to be worn. See that shelf there? We hide things behind those books. There aren't as many as there used to be since…since. Since the glass was smashed. There's a drawer here, look, inside it is my pistol and some ammunition. I know how to use it. How do I know that? I don't know when I learnt to use one of those.

In this other drawer, under a pile of papers, an autopsy report, is a locket with bird on it and a ring, a wedding ring. My wedding ring that should be on my finger, the ring that Hannah put on my finger the day we got married. See I told you my memories don't all make sense. That's why I need Hannah. Need her so much. Need her to help me work out what these visions mean. Need her to find whatever it is I have lost.

There's a photograph in the drawer too. I pick it up in trembling fingers. I'm not sure I want to see this photo. I bring it into focus, it is Hannah. A photo of Hannah.

Then that feeling hits me again, it's a physical blow. Hannah is dead. I want to die.

I let go of the steering wheel.

There is a tree growing in my field of vision.

A Chestnut tree in candled blossom.

I lift my arms up and shield my face.

There is a loud thud.

The world turns crimson.

All I can hear beyond the silence is my voice. I am weeping.