The downside of knowledge

She asked me if I remembered. I told her:

“Remember? How could I forget? I recall it specifically because the … the … the thing!”

No. I had no idea what the thing was. I didn’t remember. My memory isn’t like that. My brain has it’s own way. It recalls that Captain Picard, at the end of the episode called Darmok, was reading the Homeric Hymns.

It does not recall whatever it was she was thinking I should remember.

“What “thing” are you talking about?” she asked.

“The … the … thing!” I bellowed back, scrambling.

I was in deep shit. I knew it. She knew it. We both knew I had forgotten. The difference was, I had no idea what it was I had forgotten. She, on the other hand, knew exactly. And we both knew that. So we both knew who was in a position of strength and who was weak.

But neither of us was saying so. No, we would play this out. For my part, as long as it remained unadmitted, I had a chance.

But then she said, “Oh God … I just don’t care. Whatever.”

Whatever. What does that mean? What does it mean when she says, “Whatever?”

I didn’t know. So now I didn’t know two things. I didn’t know what I’d forgotten and I didn’t know why she was saying, “Whatever.”

And I could feel myself becoming angry. I know why I was getting angry – because I didn’t know. Apparently I didn’t know anything. I’d forgotten the one thing and I was clueless on “whatever.”

So now I was pissed.

I told her, very clearly, “I remembered the thing.”

I used my pissed voice.

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever,” she said again.

And then I wasn’t pissed anymore. I was only scared. Because I had forgotten. And there was no thing. And even if there were and even if I had remembered, it would all be the same.

And we both knew that. And I knew that was what “Whatever” meant and I knew that was why I had forgotten.

It no longer mattered. Not for us.

(This was for Flash Fiction Friday #26. Influenced by the mood of the movie I saw tonight.)

Tag: Fiction, Flash fiction, Sunday stories