afterward
by e3khatena
chapter one
The first four thoughts that flooded into my mind were, "Why the heck am I wet?", "Where the heck am I?", "Oh god, why can't I remember where I am?!", and "Oh god why am I not myself?!"
I started to pick myself up and looked around, I was on some sort of sandy beach, surrounded by the incoming tide. I glanced down at the person in the water's reflection, absolutely lost. Shoulder-length blond hair framed a very round, cute face I could barely see. Reaching around, I eventually found a pair of black glasses and put them on. See, the problem here was this was not me. I don't exactly remember who or what I was, but I was definitely not... this. I sighed, got up, dusted sand off of my hoodie and jeans, and hoped I could find a dry change of clothes somewhere, anywhere.
All around me was beach and cliffs, save for a single winding pier jutting into the water. I walked across the pier glancing down at the bluish-purple water, up at the overly glowy sky, sometimes left just to balance it all out, and as I approached the other end of the pier, I was greeted with a large building, "afterward welcome center," no capitalization whatsoever like e. e. cummings designed the place. Great, I could remember him but not my own name. Fantastic.
I walked into the welcome center and immediately was shouted at by some sort of man-muppet hybrid at the desk. I don't know how else to explain the guy: a round, ridiculous head with a big, bulbous nose and bushy eyebrows and a goatee, looking dead tired (or perhaps just dead inside), and clad in a red uniform with some horrible hat. "Hey!" the man shouted again, "Whaddya doin' standin' around in my lobby all wet, huh?!"
"Sorry, sir," I said, trying out my voice for the first time since all of this, "I don't know where I am... or who I am for that matter."
"Well, welcome... so, if ya don't mind, whaddya doin' standin' around in my lobby all wet, huh?!"
"Sir, I don't know!"
"Then wh--"
"Aren't you able to help me? I am not myself!"
"I... y'know what? Sure, whatever, lemme... lemme get a towel, throw it on the ground. So, what's yer name?"
I stepped forward. "I don't know, sir."
"Eh, blood type? Intelligence quotient, what ya had to eat for breakfast this mornin'?"
"I don't know!"
"So whaddya want me to do about it, eh?"
"Well, for starters, where am I?"
"Wh... pally, yer in the afterward!"
"The Afterward?"
"No, bub, the afterward, notice how I didn't capitalize it?"
"How are you doing that out loud?!"
"You just kinda pick it up, y'know?"
I didn't.
"Well, if you think someone took your body and gave you this thing as a replacement, then we can file a missing person report. Here, just fill this out to the best of your ability, and if we see somethin' that matches that description, we'll send it your way."
The man handed me a clipboard and a pen, and the first question on the first page was "Name", followed by a yes/no checkbox asking "Are you suffering from amnesia?"
The truth was I knew exactly that I was suffering from amnesia, I could remember very precisely that I was forgetting a lot of stuff of all sorts, I could recall that there might or might not had been a time where I knew more than I did now, and the act of not knowing what I knew led me to know how exactly I was suffering from amnesia. I marked yes, left the name blank, and then moved onto the next few questions. Height and weight I left blank because, again, the whole amnesia thing, and as I progressed down the page I was slowly beginning to realize the error of my ways. I could not fill out my age, occupation, or how many fingers I had prior to the incident. Did I have eight? Ten? Twelve, maybe? Did people have twelve fingers? I did the best I could, the voice in my head sounded like a 20 year-old Chicagoan, but I'm not sure what that's supposed to mean, maybe that's just how the voice in my head always sounded, maybe I was this all along and there was just some college student trapped in my brain. Then I got to the back of the first page, questions about the replacement body I had been given.
I searched for an ID card or something, it had to be in one of these pockets, right? That's when I realized I was wearing a tiny little shoulder clutch, maybe it was in there. I unzipped the clutch and all I found was a photograph of a really nice-looking dog (he was all white and happy and his curly tail made me smile) and a coupon for some place by the name of "Big Biff's Beefburgers", which given that the name was capitalized, meant they were definitely not from here. Eventually, I did find a wallet, a small teal thing in my back pocket, and inside had all the info I would need, probably. The card showed a person that looked like this one, beaming proudly back at me, and the name "Tammy Wilson". The date of birth and date of issue on the card were hard to read, all faded and soggy and scratched up, but the expiration date was 05-31-35, whatever that means. There was no address, but according to the ID, I was now 5'0" and 95 pounds. Those numbers seemed right for now, though me yesterday might have said something like "Gadzooks, these are all wrong! Take them back, pronto! Get 'em outta here!" or something along those lines.
I filled out the rest of the papers and went to hand them back in, but the round-headed guy was gone, replaced by a blue guy with an absolutely massive frame and square jaw, he was easily triple my height. He looked down on me with tiny eyes, before taking the clipboard between two fingers and putting it up close to read. "you can't remember anything can you," he said in a sad tone.
"How can you talk like that?" I asked.
"you just kind of pick it up don't you know"
I still didn't.
"But no, I can't remember who I used to be, and that's all I knew about who I am now."
"poor girl" he said, gently setting his other, equally massive hand on my shoulder the best he could.
"So what else can I do to figure this out?"
"go out these doors," he said, pointing to a red pair of doors along the side wall, "and take the river boat into town and find a place to stay for the night"
"Bu--"
"if we find anyone we'll let you know"
"...Okay. Thanks, mister."
"any time," he said before setting the clipboard down and grabbing a packet of some description, "take this"
He handed me the packet, and all that it had written on it was "pink: a food", which (safe to say) was a bit unnerving.
"this too," he said again, draping a red towel over my shoulders.
"Thanks so much, mister!"
"sorry that my coworker was so rude to you"
"No, it's fine, Mister..."
"kroff and his name was mangosteen"
"Mister Kroff, have a good day!"
Kroff went back to kneeling at the desk and I walked out the red doors, onto a new section of the pier. All sorts of buildings lined the pier, most of which sold "red: a food", "gray: a food", and one labeled "Crazy Joel's Super Swedish Suppers!", which seemed frankly a bit distasteful and out of place, probably an immigrant. What about Big Biff? Were they immigrants, too? A bunch of people were waiting at the edge of the pier, seated at the benches, likely waiting for the river boat. "Excuse me, sir, is the boat free?" I asked one of the people.
"What are you, a late stage capitalist?" he responded.
I guess the river boat is free.
After a few minutes, the boat arrived, and all of us boarded it. "Hello, everybody, I'll be your river boat guide! Not to be confused with riverboat guide, note the space between the words," said a guy at the front of the boat, wearing a purple hoodie.
Unlike Kroff and Mangosteen, this person seemed to actually be a human, which was a relief. "hey," said a round-headed man, probably acting as an interpreter for people who can't use capitalization for whatever reason. How did that even work? I still didn't know.
"So, the river boat has been running here in the afterward for decades, and makes the trip from the beach to the city fives times daily, every day, all the time, always and forever. The river itself is a completely drinkable coolant solution that is used to keep the core of the afterward from overheating, a process that was created by Linus Linoleum some 15 years ago when water just wasn't cutting it!"
"it's not water the boat is in though it might as well be," said the round-headed man.
"Can we drink the water?" Someone asked.
"Save all questions until the end of the end of the ride," the human said.
I sat at the edge of the back row and looked off into the distance. The water's deep indigo color was kind of comforting, and way off in the distance I could see other islands. Was this whole place the Afterward? Was only a part of it the Afterward? This was a river, not an ocean? What all was here? How do I work this? Where is that large automobile? The river boat man had been talking for a while, but eventually I heard him declare "So, are there any questions?"
"Yeah, again, can we drink the water?"
"Oof, that's not a very great question. Any other questions?"
"You said this was all to protect the core of the Afterward. Where is that and what does that do?"
"Fabulous question, good job!"
"why are you not answering the questions?"
"Again, a great question! Not as good as the last one, heck no, but you got the idea! Well, the boat is pulling into town now, so I hope you enjoy your stay in the Afterward! Thanks for coming with us, and take it easy!"
ns 15.158.61.46da2
