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?
