What a strange place this is, how ever did I get here. What kind of heavenly bed do I find myself resting in? I see a strange low glow off in the corner of the room, perhaps a small candle, though why would one place it on the wall so low to the floor like that? I pondered to myself as I looked through squinted eyes, I was trying to adjust them for they were slightly blurry. I walked over to what looked like a window, then pulled back the curtains. To my dismay I saw these wagons without horses with candlelights on the front of them. They themselves where stirred with a wheel, only it was inside, not on the outside. These were unlike anything I had ever seen before. They were riding on black dirt, and the black roads were guided by many huge bright lit candles. Then as I was caught in a gaze looking outside to this strange new world, I heard footsteps coming towards the door to the bedroom. I quickly deck and hid behind the bed and keep very still. Then there was a large light that lit the entire room, I wanted to hid but there was no darkness in which to hide in. “Hey old dude? Are you there? I didn’t see you leave? Its okay Im not to hurt you man, I promise.” The young man called out to me. I decided his tone told me that he wouldn’t be of any harm to me, so I stood up. “Hello, my name is Franklin Booth the forth, I am pleased to meet you and seek only to find treaty upon in which we can remain peacefully. Do you expect this offer that I have given you?” I asked him, trying to sound calm and brave, only I wasn’t, I was as nervous as I ever have been and I fought for independence against the Redcoats. The young man smiled and was quiet, until he started to giggle. “Its totally alright dude, Im not gonna hurt you at all. Im all about the peace man, I brought you back from your lifecoma. How did you get that way anyways?” He asked with friendly expression to his voice. “I dont have time to get into that at this moment, though I can tell you a women scorn is surely nothing to reckon with.” “Ya, my granny used to tell me that, seriously dude, you look like you have time. Your old time clothes tell me you have nothing but time. You should have time years ago, and yet here you are, found buried in the ground in a wooden box. You may not wanna tell me know, but Im gonna have to ask you again later, maybe you wont mind tell’n me about it.” He said in a sincere voice, then gestures with his hand to follow him. I walked out of the room, down the hall, down some a then impressive stair case and walked into an even less impressive dining room. It had a couch with covered in a rug that was covered all over with stains. He came over to me after he grabbed something and lit it, took a puff and passed it to me. “Take it easy, you probably never had this before.” He told me as I put it to my lips and inhaled. “Oh this, we smoke this all the time.” I tell him. “Really? Wow, oh ya you didnt even cough man.” He laughed as he took the rolled marijuana from me. “What year is it exactly? and how do these candles not flicker?” I asked him, I assumed it had been sometime, though I had no idea. “Oh man, you are fucking old aren’t you!” He laughed and before I defend myself he began to speak again after he regained control over himself. “Listen man, brace yourself, oh man, did I tell you my name?” He asked with a questioning expression on his face. He clearly has taken too much of the cannabis medicine he’s totally forgotten what he was just about to tell me. “Hence forth with your information and stop delay for I am growing slightly impatient and feeling rather annoyed.” I hiss at him, it was not for lack of wanting to know the young mans name, I just yearned for my answer to my question. “Slow down holmes, I gotcha. The name is Blaze F.Y.I” He begins. “Very pleasured Im sure Blaze, now please the answer to my question if you will” I say trying to now control myself. “Did you just ask me out?” “Ask you out where?” “Because I had a girlfriend, no offense, your very nice and all.” “You seem very pleasant also, I hope she is a grand match for you. The year please Blaze, I nearly beg of you, the year please?” I say with sudden urgency and he must have felt it as he seemed to match me with a little more seriousness to his nature. “Okay, Im sorry, Im sorry man, the year is 2013, Im sure its been, well, awhile.” He says with gentle care, as I try to retain and then process what he has just told me. That would mean I had been in a 300 year old slumber. I took a seat on that appalling couch without notice and turned my glance into a blank stare as I tried to understand how all of this could have happened. Why did I dip myself into the forbidden, derailed from my wife; however how mean,cold and hurtful she was to me. Here I am, 300 years, awaken so many many years later to a world that has passed me by so much, I do not know it anymore. “Hey man, are you alright? I know, that hada been a blow for you. If theres anything you want man, just let me know. Im here for you bro.” He said in a caring voice. “Any tonics you may have that might help ease all this information?” I ask him, I thought perhaps some ale or such spirits might lift mine. “Well, you should try some of this, its just the stuff your asking for.” He passes a small liquid substance to me, a very tiny amount. “It’ll kick in soon, till then, lets go get something to eat.” “Excellent, I cannot wait to see what the food looks like.” “Hey now that sound like theres a little sarcassim to that tone mister, hey what was your name again? Frank?” He asked me, though i didnt know what he meant by what he said. I didnt know how he was implying I was “being” though I decided to be polite and pretend it didnt bother me either which way. “Its Franklin, not Frank and I mean no offense I assure you Mr.Blaze.” I “Well, Im just Blaze, drop the Mr. lets just go, first though, you gotta shower and change before “the tonic” kicks in.” he says with a laugh, and I feel a slight concern. “Shower?” ____
A.J Hawkins was born and raised on the small Canadian island known as Vancouver Island, a resident to Victoria BC for over 30 years, A.J is a writer of poetry, short stories and is currently working on his first novel series. As a musician he also has a love for covering the live music culture on the island, interviewing various bands and asking the questions that others don’t ask. He also have a interest in the street culture, especially the one in his very own city. His passion for helping the homeward bound and getting to them on personal levels, reflects in some of his works. He enjoys writing about all the different ways of life, and considers himself a student to be taught by others and by how they live theirs. This shows in the way he creates his characters.