Memories for Sale

Franklin Waldo casually strolled up to Memory Specialists, LLC. He read the banner hanging above the company's door. It read: We sell the best memories money can buy. Whatever you're looking for, we either have it or can find it for you.

Although Franklin was desperate to buy the kind of memories not part of his conventional life, he knew that in order to get the memories he wanted at the price he wanted to pay for them he needed to present himself as someone who was just browsing. Franklin entered the shop and walked around the shop looking at the photo slide shows of the various memories the company had had for sale.

Franklin ignored the cookie cutter memories every memory shop in the city seemed to have for sale - trips to Disney, Caribbean cruises, and visits to Washington, D.C. Franklin even walked past the very memories that, in the past, would have been of great interest to him - running with the bulls in Spain, scuba diving off the coast of Australia, or partying with Hollywood celebrities.

Nothing really caught Franklin's attention until he saw a slideshow of a man's memories of cycling down the Death Road in Bolivia. That was something different and looked like exciting, but Franklin moved on to the next memory, afraid that the salesman might come over and talk him into buying it.

The salesman—his name tag proclaimed he was a memory specialist—walked up to Franklin as Franklin admired a series of photos that had been taken from an action junkie's memory of skydiving over Mount Everest.

"They limit the number of people who can skydive every year. So, this memory is a rare treasure," the salesman said to Franklin.

"I'm sure it is," Franklin said before moving on as if he wasn't the slight bit interested in buying his very own skydiving memories.

The salesman followed Franklin, making note of every photo

Franklin looked at and how long a photo held Franklin's attention.

"Are you looking for something in particular Mr. a?" the salesman asked.

"Waldo," Franklin said.

The salesman introduced himself as Jack Leg. He produced a card and told Franklin all about his experience as a memory specialist. He bragged about all his happy customers and assured Franklin that he could get him anything he wanted.

"I'm just browsing," Franklin said, trying hard to sound as if he wasn't desperately looking for a particular set of memories.

Franklin continued strolling around the showroom. There were memories available from police officers, firefighters, and Navy pilots. Franklin had the opportunity to buy memories of a police officer involved in a car chase, a Navy pilot doing fighter jet training exercises, and a fireman fighting a three-alarm fire.

And as exciting as those memories might normally be to Franklin, they weren't what he had come there to buy. Franklin looked around for a few more moments, but everything was fairly standard as far as memory shops in the city were concerned.

As Franklin turned to leave, Jack Leg rushed to the door, blocking Franklin's path. Jack smiled at Franklin and said, "If there's something special you're looking for, just let me know."

A man who had spent his entire adult life in the business world, Franklin recognized this as the first step in the process of negotiating for exactly what memory he wanted to buy.

"I didn't realize you sold memories others than the ones on the showroom floor," Franklin lied, as it wasn't a secret that the more adult memories were always kept in some backroom or in a secret drawer.

Jack smiled and rubbed his palms together. He put a hand on Franklin's shoulder and gently nudged Franklin toward the counter.

"What you see on the showroom floor is the most popular stuff. It's what the masses want to see and buy. But you seem like a man with refined taste," Jack said. "And I have some really nice memories you might be interested in seeing."

Jack jumped behind the counter and pulled out a book filled with high-resolution photos of beautiful women. Jack opened the book and sat it on the counter, motioned to Franklin to take a look. Franklin walked up to the counter and peered down at the book and saw a photo of a nude woman.

"She's nice. Then again, all the women in this binder are nice. Anything you want can be found in this binder," Jack said. "These don't come cheap, of course."

Franklin smiled at Jack, closed the book, and said, "I think you look, I'm not that kind of guy."

Jack gave Franklin a knowing smile and said, "I don't judge. Pick a memory and enjoy it for the rest of your life. The heart wants what it wants."

Jack reopened the binder and slid it across the counter to Franklin. Franklin closed the binder. "I'm not here to buy memories like those," Franklin said. "I do extremely well with the ladies."

"I'm sure you do," Jack said in a way that suggested he didn't believe a word Franklin was saying.

"I'm a busy man," Franklin said. "I work a lot. Always have. I've never had time to read as much as I would have liked."

A confused look flashed across Jack's face. Franklin noticed this and said, "You know . . . I should have never come here." "I'm on your side," Jack said. "What can I find for you?" "Stories," Franklin said as if he was unsure of himself.

"What kind of stories?" Jack asked.

"Find me someone who has read Mailer, Joyce, Faulkner, James, Lawrence, Lewis, and Fitzgerald," Franklin said.

"You're interested in buying memories of someone who has read books?" Jack asked as he scratched his head.

"I want to buy the memories of someone who has read all the greatest books in history," Franklin said.

Jack was dumbfounded and gave Franklin a look that said as much. Never in his career had Jack heard of such a request. "Are you a memory enforcement agent trying to entrap me?" Jack asked. "All the ladies in that binder have signed off on us using these memories.

"I'm just a guy who is looking to buy memories," Franklin said. "Of books you could read yourself?" Jack said.

"I have an important job. I work all the time," Franklin said. "And I just want to get a good foundation of the American classics."

Jack scratched his head and wondered where and how he would find someone who has not only read great books, but would be willing to have those memories wiped from their mind forever.

"Who is she?" Jack asked. "She must be someone really special."

"I'm doing this for myself," Franklin claimed.

"Then what's the hurry? Wouldn't reading the books be more enjoyable than undergoing the memory extraction and implantation procedure?" Jack asked.

The outpatient surgery required to extract memories from one person and implant those memories into someone else caused both people pain. Reading the books would take longer, but clearly was the less painful of the two options.

"Can you get me what I want?" Franklin asked.

Jack nodded his head. He had a reputation for getting all sorts of memories, even those that crossed the line legally. Even the most lurid memories could be found if enough digging was done, But finding an American who not only read lots of great books would be hard, but would be willing to part with those memories permanently would be almost impossible. But, as Jack knew, everyone, including book nerds, had a price.

"Give me a week. I'll be able to get you what you need," Jack said. "But it is gonna cost you a pretty penny."

"Don't try to screw me on this," Franklin said.

On the drive from Memory Specialists, LLC to his home in Chesterton Hills, Franklin thought about the woman who had caused him to search for new memories. Julia Stewart, who was new to the company Franklin worked for, had invited everyone on the marketing and sales teams to her home for a cookout/housewarming.

Franklin brought an expensive bottle of wine to the cookout, hoping it would impress Julia. It didn't. She seemed to be attracted to Dan Felton. Felton quoted lines from books Franklin had never read. Felton made Julia laugh. Felton had an inside track on the hottest woman available in the company and Franklin was damned if he was going to sit around and watch Felton scoop up that lovely dish of ice cream.

The only problem with Franklin's plan was that he didn't have the ability to carry on a conversation with Julia about anything other than business. And she seemed to quickly bore of things business related when she wasn't working. Franklin had gone out for drinks with a group of people from work, hoping to get close to Julia. It was a big flop. She asked him who he was reading and what were his favorite books.

Franklin had never been much of a reader. In fact, he hadn't thought much about reading since he was a high school senior. Back then Franklin had never read anything another than the novels assigned for school. In truth, he never even read those, preferring to flip through the Cliff Notes instead.

A week later, when Franklin came back to Memory Specialists, LLC, Jack said he had found a retired book critic who had a gambling problem and was willing to part with memories for a decent price.

"So, how much is this going to cost me?" Franklin asked Jack.

Jack wrote down the price on a slip of paper and slid the paper across the counter. Franklin picked up the paper, looked at the price, and thought for a moment.

"Yeah, I can pay that," Franklin said.

"Great, then we can do the procedure in a few days," Jack said.

On the day of the procedure, Franklin sat in chair "A" and the book critic sat in chair "B". Between the men was the MCD-4000. As far as memory capture devices went, the MCD-4000 was an oldie. The MCD-4000 was a lot more painful than the newer machines, but it was also the least intrusive. Some of the newer machines had been known to be hacked and memories people didn't want out of their brains got out into the world at large.

"All you do is sit back and relax," Jack said Franklin the book critic as he prepped them for the procedure.

"Are you sure all my memories will be safe?" Franklin asked Jack.

"You have nothing to worry about. Two hours from now, you will be as well versed in literature as the woman you're pinning for," Jack said. "And any secrets you have will remain forever in your brain. Although if the secrets are really juicy ones, I'd be willing to help you sell them."

Like magic, Franklin emerged from chair "A" a couple hours later and saw the world differently than he had ever before. The only outward sign that he was any different was a bald spot near his right temple. The next day at work, Franklin was talking to Julia about politics and began to quote lines from "It Can't Happen Here" by Sinclair Lewis. Julia laughed and laughed. She told Franklin how witty he was.

But before Franklin could ask Julia out for drinks, she joined a group from the marketing department as they talked about the latest developments of some reality series that Franklin wasn't familiar with. As Julia talked, Franklin looked her over from head to toe. Franklin stared at Julia's face a long time before he noticed that she was wearing her hair down.

Julia's hair covered her ears and most of her face. When Julia played with her hair, Franklin saw that she had a slight bald spot by her temple and his heart sank.

First Published in Carry the Light 2016