When I think about my past, it’s a blank. I’m
not a hundred percent sure of anything. How can you be, when your life is a
blank? I know who I am, though. I know my name, how old I am, where I was born,
everything. I even know why I moved to the little island I now come to call
home. So it’s not like I forgot everything, I’m just really fuzzy on the
specifics.
My name is Brendan Thompson. I’m thirty-eight
years old. The reason I moved here? My parents died in a car accident, and this
was the place my mother said she grew up. I came back, I guess to reconnect.
I’m not entirely sure why I came here. It’s not exactly the most connected
place on the planet. Actually, it’s one of the most remote, really. The place I
live is a little island with only three hundred people in the population, and I
believe I’m overestimating.
I live in this little place called Tristan da
Cunha. It’s this small group of volcanic islands right smack in the middle of
the Atlantic Ocean, down between where South America and Africa lie. I’ve been
here about a month or so, and I do stand out a bit. And although I keep to
myself, they watch me pretty close, probably because I am an outsider, and
those who live here aren’t really used to that. In fact when I decided I wanted
to move there, I had to explain why to the Tristan Government before I even
could.
I walked down the roads, smiling to myself.
Despite the smallness and I’m sure primitiveness some in America would call it,
I feel at peace here. It’s not primitive as much as simplistic. They are just a
more laid back people, who live off the land and sea. Fishing and Farming are
the main ways to survive here. They just rebuilt the fishing factory here in
the sole town of Tristan da Cunha, Edinburgh. It had burned down two years
prior. That’s where I’m heading actually, as the sun rises slowly into the sky,
casting an almost hauntingly red hue along the land. That was where I worked to
earn my living and to be honest, despite the fact it’s not glamorous, I enjoyed
it. It wasn’t something I dreamed of as a kid, in fact I think I used to want
to be a Catholic priest, but I’m not sure. As it goes with anything in my past.
I’ve asked the doctors here if they could
figure out why that is. They think maybe it has to do with my parents’ deaths.
But even they’re not sure. All I keep getting told is how “the mind can be a
mysterious thing”. Can we say understatement?
“Hey there Brendan!” I hear a voice call out,
and I smile. It was one of my neighbors. Once they adjust to a newcomer,
everyone’s pretty friendly here.
“Hey Carlie,” I headed towards here, where she
stood outside her cottage. If you could picture America back in say the early
1900’s, that’s what this place looks like in terms of the town. The small town
of Edinburgh was littered with homes of that style. I knew the basics of the
area, how to get to the general store, where the church was. The basics. But I
didn’t know everything, as I wouldn’t let myself. Not yet anyway, I think I
just wanted to settle first.
I can’t say Miss Carlie Contrella hadn’t caught
my attention from the day I moved here. She’d shown up at my door, an apple pie
in her hand as a welcoming gift. With her soft brown hair, the freckles
sprinkled under bright green eyes and over the bridge of her button nose, she’d
struck my fancy pretty quick. There were days I often spent my time thinking
about her. So why haven’t I made a move? I mean it’s not like I’m some awkward
teenager right?
That was where everything got confusing.
Often, when I thought about asking her out on a
date, a wave a pain followed. Not physical, but emotional. Like I always got
depressed just at the thought. It wasn’t something I understood, so I think I
might just get anxious like that. It would also explain why I try so hard to
keep to myself even though I love interacting with other people.
“Brendan?”
I glanced up, giving a smile. I’ve always been
told I have a pretty one. I guess I know how to use it to my advantage. “Sorry,
went off to the moon for a second there.”
She chuckled. “It’s alright; it’s a pretty
early morning.” Her voice had a southern drawl to it I found cute. Everyone
here had it, sounding a lot like those in Louisiana do. Odd, since the two
aren’t even close to each other. But to be honest, at least the language was
English. It made my life easier when I decided to move here.
“So, Brendan…”
“Yeah?”
“I was thinking, you’ve been here for a month,
and I don’t think you’ve been given a proper tour and all of the town and the
sights and all. You’ve been yourself all pitched up in that little house of
yours.” Carlie smiled up at me, her dimples showing as she did. She was shorter
than me, probably around five feet, two inches. I’m not tall at all, only five
inches taller. But hey, I’m taller. And because it’s not a feeling I’m used to,
I liked it. A lot. Normally the girls were my height so I couldn’t look down
and get that feeling of protecting them. Or, in some cases, they looked down at
me. Talk about embarrassing.
“So you want to…”
“Get more acquainted.” I watched her, smiling
again as her cheeks tinged pink.
“With the town…with Tristan da Cunha. The
island itself is beautiful to explore, when the volcano keeps calm…”
“Sounds perfect.”
“Would you like some company to work?”
I nodded, saying nothing as I enjoyed the
moment between us. I took her hand, feeling it in my own. That sudden stab of sadness
threatened to arise but I shoved it aside. I wasn’t going to let my anxieties
affect me. It was time I let myself relax. Normally I wasn’t so stiff as a
person. I loved to be active, to play sports, relax, and maybe act a bit silly
when I could. I feel like that accident changed everything about me, even
though it was my parents it killed, rather than me.
I guess that sounds silly, right?
***