So You Used to Be Human - Book 3 (Original Version)

Chapter 24: Regrets, Regrets, Regrets

"What the fuck are you looking at?" Sammy wanted to know, bust all I could do was stare at her and Jaime sitting in the booth across from me, a memory taking my full attention.

"Bob? What's wrong?" Jaime wanted to know.

I wanted to tell her but was afraid I'd just scream out the names that repeated over and over in my head with slightly less style and rhythm than the 'Cell Block Tango' from "Chicago".

Frankie. Benjamin. Stanley.

I'd actually dozed off while the girls were in the bathroom, much to my own surprise and woke up with those names on the tip of my tongue for some reason.

I'd blinked, blearily trying to clear my mind, wondering how long I had dozed off for. It couldn't have been that long, since the girls were still gone.

"Frankie. Benjamin. Stanley." I whispered and then winced, trying to think of anything else, anything at all.

See it still upset me to think that the guys I'd built up such a unique friendship with, were dead, so I tried not to think about it too much. There was only so much grieving a person could do before it stopped meaning anything, so instead I tried to trivialize and distract myself, stay as busy as possible, but that wasn't always possible. There were times when my brain was idle, like just before sleep clamped down on my eyelids for the night, that a name, a face, a memory would cross my mind. I would be awake in an instant, trying to shake it off, trying to think of anything else but the fact that they had died because of me and there had been nothing I could do to stop it from happening.

Frankie. Benjamin. Stanley.

You probably think I'd glossed over their deaths, and you would be right, but I'd like any of you to tell me exactly how I'm supposed to talk about how people I cared about died, when I didn't even want to think about it. I make my stupid jokes yes, but I carry my guilt with me because of how much I care. I remembered how they died, especially Frankie, but it's something I'll keep to myself for a while longer.

Jaime and Sammy returned from the bathroom, and Sammy could see immediately that something was bothering me. Jaime was a little more careful and considering, watching me more closely. She had seen me like this once before and knew the signs of me freaking the fuck out.

Frankie. Benjamin. Stanley.

Those names were strong in my mind, my brain unable to not look directly at their memories, the ghosts of their existence sounding long drawn out echoes. If I could see them, they would probably have all been giving me the middle finger, but ghosts don't exist, so that was something I didn't have to see. What I did have was the memory of sitting in this exact booth, in this exact diner several months ago with the guys. Funny thing is, we had also been on the way to see the Jesus Delgado, the man Harry had referred to as the Trailer Park Jesus.

Our end destination had been a different address about 100 miles further down the highway, but unlike Jesus, the diner was not in the habit of moving around the country for its own safety. The diner was easy to get to and had signs reminding us to stop by for a bite to eat, going back all the way into the city. So by the time you had driven fifty miles and passed three billboards and at least 10 smaller signs on the sides of barns and assorted buildings at the sides of the road, you were convinced that eating at the diner would be the greatest thing ever, especially since they had the "Best Pancake Deal in the Country!" (at least that's what the posters all proclaimed.)

Who was it that had requested pancakes again? Benjamin? Frankie? Stanley?

Ghosts may not be real in the sense that a lot of really kooky people want them to be, but they do exist in memory and a certain ridiculous level of synchronicity.