Wellsen, Worsen?

Wellsen, worsen? No, that’s not it. Those words don’t seem real. I cleave out at one, two, three, and four… No response. Five? Yes, there’s something there.

This is an odd feeling. My back feels tweaked, like someone put my legs on backwards.

I open my eyes, but it’s extremely painful. The taste in my mouth is coppery and ionic.

Holy hell, my back hurts.

And what do these words mean? Wellsen, worsen?

Did I crash my bike? I push out to retrieve information, but nothing comes back. I recall a sting, a serration, sliding across the asphalt into the gravel of the driveway. What a stupid way to hurt myself. My brother saw it. We were racing.

But he looks so young. What on Earth? That’s not it. I haven’t had that bike in years. I’d be too big to ride it now anyway.

Wellsen, worsen?

Again, no information from my body. Something is wrong. I can’t see, hear, or move. It feels like there is a heavy weight atop my chest though, so I can feel something.

Did I get my breath knocked out? Why do I feel so tweaked?

The cow!

I was working the cows in the pen. Her dad warned me that the bull would try to kill me. He said, “See that huge fucker right there? Don’t lose sight of him when you work them in the pen. He’ll fucking kill you.”

Well, he didn’t kill me. He just smacked me. Did he gore me? I try to move my neck to look down but still can’t see in any meaningful sense. There are flashes of light and shadows.

But hold on. I was concussed when the bull struck me in the pen. They said I was flung right over the fence and landed on my head weird. I remember that. It wasn’t that.

That was a little over three months ago. Three years ago?

It still doesn’t explain these words on the tip of my tongue. Wellsen, worsen?

It was a day or two after that, she broke things off because I had to leave. No one else broke up with their boyfriends before we left. There was an emotional goodbye for most. Only I got broken up with.

Shame, I really liked that girl. Loved her even. When I get back, I’ll try to make things right and take her to the movies or something. Maybe she broke up with me because I landed on my head weird. In my defense, I never saw that bull coming. I tried my best. Maybe I embarrassed her in front of her father. They don’t have the best relationship.

But where was I headed? Why did I leave?

Things are starting to come back to me now. My name is John. I left my farm town after I graduated. Almost graduated. There will be time to sort that mess out later. Everything was such a rush. She broke my heart, but that too can be sorted out later.

I crossed the ocean. Yes, I remember.

Wellsen? Worsen?

Welcome.

Yes, welcome. Welcome what?

I remember my mom told me to savor the wine. I hate the taste, though. I don’t know why she told me to savor it. I’m beginning to lose my grasp again. I thought for certain I was onto something.

France.

That’s it. If I end up in France, I need to taste the wine. My mom loves wine. Not my thing. And I’m underage? How does drinking law work even in France?

“You’ll have enough to worry about besides drinking laws. I love you.”

I see her. She’s the only thing I can hear. There are tears in her eyes. I’m looking up towards the sun and she’s eclipsing it. Why is she crying? I told her I’d be back soon.

I really wish I could remember why I was headed to France.

Welcome… Welcome party?

A door opened and all hell let loose.

A sting as soon as it opened, but I pushed forward anyway.

I made new friends in the last months, said goodbye to them yesterday, just in case. Lots of them are even from my hometown. We were supposed to graduate together. Class of ’44.

I’m scared.

My god, my eyes are stinging. There’s a lot of salt in my mouth, too.

Vision shifts, begins to focus.

I can’t see out of my left eye. My legs are gone. That will be a trouble. My torso is purging something red out into the waters. Blood? What a terrible welcome party.

I turn my head to the right. I’m lying on watery sands. I try to spit the sand out of my mouth, but blood comes out.

Big steel jacks. Like a Goliath was playing jacks on the beach.

The sea grabs me. The salt hurts.

It gently pulls me out. Time passes and I begin to sink. My eyes hurt too much to keep open, but I still see the blinding light of the sun as I submerge.

I was always a terrible swimmer. That’s why she broke my heart.