I Don’t Want to Start a Story!

Max inhaled deeply before sputtering out the smoke. It was easy to swipe farmer Pill’s secret pack of cigarettes, but he had forgotten his newest body wasn’t used to it. In the middle of the night and illuminated only by a lamp on Bessie’s poach, Max watched the rain pour down in front of him. It was the first heavy rain of the season. The first heavy rain since he woke up in this world. Why had he seen alien spaceships before heavy rain?

His mind was plagued with all the events that had happened today. Saving Straw, talking to the mayor, seeing two new prompts, being lectured for leaving behind one of the berry girls, enduring the wrath of Bessie for refusing to go back... helping Cy make excuses to not go back and get Elder… A deep sigh dyed with smoke escaped his lips. Up until now, he had to constantly endure his presence. From now on, it was too risky to let Cy out of his sight until the newest story got cancelled.

Looking at his reflection in the puddles forming at the bottom of the porch stairs, he could see in the stranger’s face that he was lying to himself. Now that the adrenaline of the day had fated, only the truth could be reflected back at him. None of those events and problems were the real cause of his inner turmoil right now. Max didn’t enjoy that part of his newest body. It was too transparent at times.

“You! You better not be smoking under my roof!” Bessie barked from the front door.

Max didn’t jump nor flinch from her voice; it was like he didn’t even hear her. She prepared to raise her voice again when Max shuffled down to the bottom porch step. Feet in the growing puddle and no shelter to protect him from the downpour, there was no roof over his head now.

“That’s better.” Max tilted his head slightly towards her. He never thought he would get away with malicious compliance like that with her. “Give me one,” she said in a softer voice as she joined him on the bottom step.

“You smoke?” He was genuinely surprised as he passed her one and lit it for her. It was a wasted effort since both were extinguished by the rain in seconds, but the two paid no mind as they pretended their cigarettes were still ignited.

“What’s going on, Max?”

…

Bessie waited a few minutes, but Max kept his eyes fixed on the fields in front of them. His sudden defiance unsettled her. “I heard from Bernadette about what happened in the village today. Did you get scared from suddenly being taken to the mayor’s house?”

…

“You’re lucky that everyone has taken such a liking to you. The village usually isn’t too taken with amnesiacs. In particular, Adelaide seems to be sweet on you.” Max felt his body unconsciously stiffen slightly. “I heard she went from door to door, gathering people and warning them to arm up. Word spread quickly… Bill and I thought about going, but we heard too late. Besides, we knew you’d be fine. Or, at least, we would’ve sued for the execution of our employee.” Bessie gave him a smile before letting out a sigh when he didn’t respond again.

“What’s her name, Max?”

Bessie listened to the rain for a while before pretending to put out her cigarette and pulled herself up to her feet. “I can’t help you, Max, not unless you let me know a little more about what’s really going on.” She began slowly making her way back to the front door. All hope of a reply seemed lost as she began twisting the doorknob.

“Ellie. Her name was Ellie.”

The drenched Bessie returned to the bottom step in the rain. “Where is she now?”

“She’s… not in this world.”

Bessie gave a sympathetic sigh. “It’s never easy, losing a loved one. So, what was she to you? One-sided crush? Business partner? Cult leader?”

Max couldn’t help looking at her in disbelief. Out of all the ways to describe relationships, why were those the three her mind jumped to? “Wife.”

“Wife!?!” Bessie spluttered, as if the idea had never occurred to her. Max ignored her ramblings as she began muttering under her breath about her disbelief regarding the situation. It was easy to pretend he couldn’t hear her as he held out his left hand to cup some of the rain. It took a while for her voice to level out. “Wife, huh? You were married?”

“Yep.”

“And she’s… gone now?”

“…Yes.”

“I’m sorry. It’s one of the unfortunate parts of life. How did she…?”

Max allowed the water to pour out of his hand. “I don’t know. I… left first.”

Bessie gave a nod as if she finally understood the situation. “You left first because she was going.” Not exactly. Death just happened to come for him first in that life. It was one of his favourite endings so far. No chaos. No plotting or mistakes from the events and goals prompted by the system. Just old age. “And then you ended up on this farm?”

“Pretty much.”

“And you pretended to have no memories because…?”

“It was more convenient. I lived in a place that was too…far away from here, so it would be difficult to pretend otherwise.”

“So, you’re an illegal immigrant.”

“… Kind of?”

“And the reason the mayor called you in today? Does he know you’re an illegal immigrant?”

Max thought about his words for a couple of seconds. “Yes. But he’s decided to give me refugee status.” He had little doubt that the mayor would back his story if asked and that Bessie wouldn’t waste time asking him.

Bessie gave a couple of nods of approval. “So, it was all one big misunderstanding. They thought you were going to get strung up.”

“I heard.”

Bessie must’ve detected the slight animosity that returned to his voice. “… You know, when we last had one of our midnight chats, you promised me your name if you remembered it. Want to tell me it now?”

Max suddenly recalled. “It’s not important. It was just a typical name from there. Besides, I just told you the most important name in my previous life.” He watched Bessie’s mouth twitch up into a soft smile.

“That’s fair. I guess it’s my turn then.” There was a twinge of excitement in the air as Bessie built up the tension. “My real name is Gwendolyn Royse Amice Cateline Edvardsen, the third.”