Brad

Putting the thermos in the jeep before leaving for my hike is the last thing I remember. Hiking alone is how I spent most weekends on the island. Now as I lay in a hospital bed a man who says he’s a police detective is questioning me about a local boy named Kimo whose body was found brutally beaten two miles away from where the search and rescue team found me.

###My memory of the day’s events is like a jig saw puzzle with pieces that don’t fit together. I can recall fragments but nothing in a straight and coherent way. Yes I remember where I started my hike I answered. It’s where I always start my hike. Yes there was a light rain I said. I was guessing and the detective knew it. I had made up most of my answers. The detective looked at me and said you know I don’t believe you but I can’t prove you’re lying…not yet anyway. You need to get some rest he said as he was leaving the room. Then he turned back towards me and said, and when you’re feeling better we’ll try this again but next time try answering my questions without all of the bullshit. I nodded and closed my eyes.

### It’s been 10 years since I last hiked that area. Staring at a thermos that sits next to a construction worker I flashed on the few memories I do have. The day I came very close to being accused of killing someone named Kimo. The day I hit my head during a fall and the amnesia that followed. And how close I came to a murder charge. I’ve struggled with what really happened that day? I will never know. Maybe I should be in prison. To think you might be capable of murder has been my sentence and I’m still serving it today. I think it’s time to think about something more pleasant.