A/N: I still don't own John Doe. Fox does. If I owned it, Karen wouldn't be dead.

Chapter 2

Several hours later, John walked to a spot along the Fraser River. He could clearly see why Digger had recommended the place. The shear beauty of the place had John in complete awe. Most important, there were no people. Nothing at all to distract him.

The hike to the place had been long, sometimes rough, but invigorating. John had already begun recalling some information by the time he got to his campsite. It wasn't everything, but it was a start. He pushed that out of his mind and began setting up his tent.

Later that evening, as John sat beside a fire, he reflected on his life. The life he knew that is. Luckily he hadn't forgotten all of that. He tried not to dwell on the bad things, like Karen.

"John, stop it," he said to himself. "You're not supposed to think about Karen. It's why you're here."

"You know, if you keep talking to yourself like that, you will eventually go crazy," an unfamiliar voice said from behind a tree.

"Who's there?" John asked, trying to find the source for the voice.

From behind a tree close to the river, an elderly man, stepped out. John could tell by his features he was Native American, but didn't know from what tribe the man was.

"Who are you?" was all John could ask.

The man gave his name in his native language. John looked at him completely perplexed.

"It means 'Possessed by the Spirit of the River'" he translated. "But you may call me River, if you like."

"I'm John. John Doe," John returned the greeting.

"I already know who you are, John." River told him. "I have been expecting you for quite some time."

River's remark startled John, somewhat. The only one's who followed his moves were the Phoenix.

"You've been expecting me?" was all John could ask.

"Do not worry, John, I am a friend," River reassured him.

"Who sent you?" John asked, after a pause.

"A friend."

John knew it had to have been Digger. Digger was as mysterious to John as his own identity. He still didn't know all of Digger's friends and was quite sure he never would.

"Then you know why I'm up here?"

"I know that you have lost something." River told him. "I am here to help you find it."

John considered this for a moment. If the man were a friend of Digger's, then maybe he was here to help him recover his lost information. Then again, he could be working for the Phoenix and be here to recover his other memory, his true memory.

"How do you intend to help me?" John asked.

"By performing a dream ceremony. It is an ancient ritual amongst my people that helps cleanse the soul of bad spirits. It will seem like a journey to the person undergoing the ritual, but it helps them face their fears and helps them discover their true purpose in this world."

John almost said no to the man. He was afraid to dream. Afraid of what he might face. In the end, though, River was right, he needed to face his fears.

"When will you perform this ceremony?"

"I shall come tomorrow as the sun sets." River told him. "The ritual takes most of an entire night and requires much preparation."

The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a small pouch filled with powder.

"This will help you sleep peacefully tonight. It will keep the bad spirits in your from entering your dreams."

"Thanks," John said as he took the pouch.

"Sleep well, my friend," River said as he left.

John had decided to trust the man, for now anyway. He trusted the powder wasn't harmful. Mixing the powder into his water brought a sweet smell, almost of nutmeg. The smell alone brought back a flood of information. John decided he liked the smell and briefly wondered if it was part of his old life.

Satisfied he would sleep well and wake up the next morning, John finally went to bed. He lay for about an hour taking in the sounds of the cool late summer night. The sound of the river quickly lulled him into a deep sleep.

John woke the next morning and, after a small breakfast, decided he would go hiking. He had maybe twelve or thirteen hours before River returned and wanted to see as much as he could. In the distance, John thought he heard a bear fishing for salmon and decided he'd go watch.

The hike was maybe no more than a mile, but the beauty was more than John could believe. It put him in mind of the lands around Seattle only here, the land was vast and undeveloped. Overhead, an eagle soared, most likely searching for the same salmon the bear was trying to catch.

The smells of the forest and the river were more than relaxing; they put his mind completely at ease.

The average rate of erosion of Niagara Falls was almost three feet per year in the 1950's, however, due to major water diversions, the rate has decreased to less than one foot every ten years.

He had almost not noticed the thought. It took him a moment to realize what had just gone through his mind.

Digger was right. All I needed was a vacation. John thought.

John felt as though a small weight had been lifted. He noticed however, the information going through his mind, pertained largely to rivers.

Many stories came out of the New Madrid area of Missouri in 1811 about the Mississippi River flowing backwards, but what had really happened was, the violent earthquakes that had struck the area sent giant waves upstream, creating the illusion that the river was flowing backwards.

Such occurrences are quite common, especially where a river meets the ocean. In China, at the mouth of the Qiantang River, annually, a great tidal bore rushes up the river, causing the uninitiated to believe a tsunami has struck.

Most people mistakenly call a tsunami a "tidal wave".

It was wonderful, nonetheless, to be able to recall facts. Not as wonderful as knowing his identity, but still wonderful.  John also realized he'd regained his sense of time.

Sunday, September 12, 4:15 pm and 53 seconds.

He'd been hiking for nine hours. He knew the sun would be going down soon. Turning around quickly, John hurried back to his camp. The whole time, obscure facts about water rushed through his head.

When he returned to camp, John found River patiently waiting for him. The man was sitting beside the fire in a meditative state, contemplating what, John had no clue. As though sensing John's presence, River opened his eyes and stood.

"Welcome back, my friend," River said. "I trust you had a refreshing hike."

"Yes, it was quite relaxing." John told him.

"Good, then we shall prepare for the ceremony."

"About that. Is it absolutely necessary?" John asked.

"Yes, it is very necessary. An invigorating hike in the forest will only scare the spirits away, but they will return. If we do not purge them now, they will return much stronger than before. You will lose your mind and thus your very soul."

John was worried about the nightmares returning. He was worried about once again losing the information that made him who he was. He thought of Lenny, then. The man was of comparable intelligence to him, but had lost his mind and used his intelligence for evil. John couldn't allow himself to turn that way.

"Alright, let's do it." John told him, finally.

"Good. Now I shall ask that you lay upon this bear skin."

John did so.

"Now allow your body to relax. Allow no thought to enter your mind. Listen only to the sound of the river and my voice."

John emptied his mind. River began chanting in his native tongue. John still couldn't understand what he was saying, but could feel himself getting tired. He knew he was going into a trance and allowed himself to. Slowly, the sound of River's voice merged with the sound of the river. John's world went black.

A/N: Ok, so this chapter probably didn't make much sense, but I wanted to use it as a lead in to the next chapters. There'll probably be two more chapters after this and hopefully those'll come to me quite soon.