Second Wind

John flipped through his calendar as he brushed his teeth. He was signing a mortgage for a few acres up in Alaska on Monday, a lease on a bush plane on Tuesday, and then he swore to never set foot near this awful city again. These thoughts were on his mind as he moved to leave the bathroom to start his last day at work. They vacated his mind with force as his foot skid across the tiles, sending himself face first into the edge of the sink.

John opened his eyes. Or, tried to, his face was buried in dirt. A few seconds of frantic clawing exposed his face and torso to the cool, moist air. It was evening, and by the looks of it he was in some kind of run down factory. He dug through the loose soil, pulling himself free of a shallow hole. Looking around, he realized this was in the docks, far from his home.

Wiping himself off he found a large gash on his forehead. It stung as his hand touched it, but it didn’t seem to be bleeding. He climbed out of the abandoned building and up onto the road, his head aching. John shook the remaining dirt off of himself and began walking as he tried to remember how he got here. He knew his away around the city, and once he was closer to downtown, he was able to make his way to his apartment. He arrived just after sunset, and as he did, he knew something was very wrong.

Someone had broken his down his fence. Long ruts from car tires dug out through the yard and into the street. His front door was open. Leaves had blown in, it looked to be open for a while. His car was gone. John cursed and glared at the scene, expecting answers, or someone to come out and explain things. But no. The neighbors stayed inside, the policed didn’t show, and his door was still open.

Stepping inside revealed a scene of chaos. Dressers emptied, mattress flipped, in the bathroom was a pool of blood, he assumed from his head wound. His gaze passed over the broken mirror and froze.

That wasn’t his face.

He moved closer to the mirror. He had a nasty cut over his right eye, and looked dirty and beaten, but either way, that was not his face. Patting his body he pulled a wallet out of his back pocket. It had no cash or cards but, John blessed his luck, there was an ID.

Johnathan Rigby, age 25, handsome, if a bit skinny and weasel-looking. Frantic thoughts rushed by until they all narrowed down on one conclusion.

“That fucker took my body.” John spoke out loud in a voice that wasn’t his. He looked into the mirror and snarled. “He trashed my apartment, and who knows what he’s planning on doing with my body… He— Wait. Does that even matter? That doesn’t change anything. Hell, I’m way younger now, it might even be a positive.” He laughed. “Keep my body, and my car. I’ll empty out my bank account and follow the plan.” He looked at the ID. “This guy even had the same first name as me, easy.”

He washed off the blood and dirt and found some clean clothes, a spare debit card, and stepped outside. He cursed at the missing car, then grabbed his bicycle from his locker and rode down the street towards the bank.

“I can still just buy the plane, buy the land. I’ll build a cabin and just go off grid till the end of my days. It’s fine!” John continued to try and convince himself as he pedaled.

He rode a few blocks till he arrived at the bank he kept his money, and in fact, was the same he worked as a manager. Keeping a low profile, he inserted his card, entered his pin, and… empty.

“Empty?” he croaked. He checked again, remaining balance: $0.62

“I… I had hundreds of thousands of dollars… I saved for years! I didn’t take a single fucking vacation!” John raged at the side of the building for some time. A beep brought him back to his senses. The machine was warning him about taking his card if he didn’t show any activity. He pressed the continue button and thought it over. “How did he empty it out so fast?” His hands worked their way through the menus till he arrived at his transaction history. For the past two weeks, there were steady withdrawals in the thousands. The final amount was emptied today in one large lump sum.

“Two weeks!” He stared at the ATM. “I’ve been gone for two weeks, and this… this asshole took all of my money!” He began to hit the machine frantically. It displayed an error, and an alert that he was being filmed.

He stalked off from the ATM, unsure of what to do next. It was night, and it was cold. He hadn’t grabbed a jacket before he left, not that any of his clothes fit him properly anyways. As he thought it over, a passing car slammed on its brakes, screeching to a halt. A jab of throttle brought the vehicle around and into the bank parking lot. John picked up the bike, ready to flee. Not that he had time to think about it, the car had already parked nearby. The doors opened as two burly men hopped out. They looked dangerous, they looked like gangsters.

“Johnny? Holy shit, it is you! Still in the land of the living, I see.” The first man, tall and angular grinned.

“I told you I didn’t hit him that hard!” A thick slab of a man chuckled. “We thought you were dead Johnny boy! Glad to see you out and about!”

“And at the bank, too!” The first man looked up. “Making a deposit or withdrawal?”

The two men approached and John tensed, he should have fled by now, but his feet remained planted to the ground, imprisoning him there.

“You just need to tell us where you hid the case, Johnny.” The tall man pulled out a handgun. “And no games! We know you took it, we know you hid it.”

John stared. He had never even held a gun in his life, and now he was looking down the barrel of one.

The second man spoke up again.“We know it’s in the docks, Johnny, we have a tracker on the box, though the signal get’s all screwy down there. It’s just…” He gripped his meaty hands until the knuckles cracked. “You’ve gone and hid it too damn well, didn’t you, you fuck? Now all you gotta do is tell us where the box is, and everyone goes home happy, and healthy, and in one piece. Okay?”

The two were only a few feet away from John. He felt like he would pass out. He tried to take a step, to move in some way, but his body just wouldn’t listen. Only when the two reached for him did he finally snap out of it.

He grabbed the bike, he tossed it at the two gangsters, hitting one in the teeth with the sprocket and the other with the handlebars. He turned as they cursed and spat, running out of the parking lot and into the nearby neighborhood. A moment of confusion was all the bike brought before gunshots rung out. A planter exploded to his right, a car’s window burst to his left. Bullet impacts rained down around John, but he ran on, miraculously unharmed.

Running down the block, he could hear the heavy, thudding footsteps of a large man somewhere behind him. They were gaining. He didn’t dare look back.

On the opposite side of the street, an old beaten up car slammed on its brakes. It paused for a moment before it whipped around and came back down the street.

“Oh great.” John despaired.

The car pulled alongside, the window rolling down. “Johnny?” A woman’s voice called out. John looked over mid-stride and saw a wide-eyed young woman. She glanced back and seemed to debate for a moment, and then pulled ahead. She screeched to a stop and threw open the door. “Get in!” She shouted.

John had no idea of who this person was, but the pounding footsteps coming fast made the decision for him. He dove into the open door face-first and the woman jammed the throttle, leaving the two gangsters in a cloud of smoke.

John looked through the mirror, huffing. This body was at least in shape, he would never have been able to run like that in his original body. He leaned back and took several deep breaths.

“Thanks,” he breathed. “That was close.” He looked over and jumped when he saw the woman was breaking up into tears.

“You…” She wailed out. “I thought you were dead!”

John didn’t know what to say, how did she know of his supposed death? She was wearing a nurse uniform, and looked far and away from any gangster he had seen in movies or on TV.

“I was attacked, but I’m not dead… Just gone for a couple weeks.”

“A couple of weeks!?” The woman screamed at him, swerving the car as she did. “You’ve been gone for over a year you-you-you, bastard!” She seemed like she had to squeeze out the last word.

John paused for a few moments, unsure of what to say. She unquestionably knew him, he wasn’t sure who else he could rely on at this moment.

“I hit my head, my memory is a little fuzzy.”

“Fuzzy enough to forget your wife? To forget your daughter?!” she screamed through the tears. “We’ve been struggling, and where have you been, huh? Out playing at being a gangster? How did that turn out, huh?” She gnashed her teeth as she drove.

John looked at her, shocked. “I’m sorry,” he blurted out.

“Huh?” She seemed surprised.

“I said I’m sorry, I did get hit in the head, I’ve been in a bad situation, and I’m having a hard time remembering why. I’m-I’m sorry for leaving. I’ll try to make this right”

She stared at him for a bit before looking back at the road. After some time she whispered a few quiet words. “You’ve never said sorry before…”

John cursed in his heart. What kind of asshole was this Johnny guy? He was so bad to her that saying sorry was enough to shock her? He nonstop mentally cursed the previous owner of the body as she continued to drive.

The streets grew worse, and after a short, silent drive, she turned into the driveway of a run down apartment complex. John had never been in such a sketchy neighborhood. He climbed out after her and followed her up the stairs. She kept glancing back at him in a suspicious manner. He shied away from her gaze. At the top of the stairs, the woman unlocked a door and entered into one of the apartments. Taking a step inside, the woman paused and turned back to him.

“Lily is asleep, so keep it down.” She looked him over. “Do you want to wash off, or should I go first?”

“Please, you go first.” His instinctual response made her screw up her face before she turned and marched off to the back of the apartment.

Dammit, I need to watch how I talk… John thought to himself as she walked into the bathroom. As the door closed, and the sound of water began to run, he began looking for anything that would give him this woman’s name. He was lucky enough to hear the daughter’s name, Lily, but he couldn’t call what was supposed to be his wife ‘hey you’.

A letter by the door revealed her name. Katherine Rigby. Sure enough, she had married this bastard.

He sat back down and tried to pretend like he hadn’t been snooping around this woman’s apartment. What am I doing? He thought. Am I going to hide out here? Wouldn’t that bring the thugs around and harm to these people?

Uneasy small steps came into the room as he thought over what his next steps should be. He glanced up to find a small child standing just outside the living room, sending furtive glances his way.

“Oh, you must be Lily.” He spoke without thinking.

She stared at him for a few seconds before toddling off. She returned with a printed out photograph. She held it up and looked at his face, and then the picture. Looking back and forth, she then pointed at the photo. “Daddy?”

John leaned over, and sure enough, there was a photo of this Johnny guy with Kathrine, both looking happy together. He took a deep breath. What am I doing? “Yeah, daddy.” He gave a thin smile to the girl.

The girl looked at the photo and his face a few more times before stumbling closer, putting a hand on his leg. John didn’t have a family, in any sense of the word. He didn’t have siblings, and his parents had long passed away. He had never had kids look up to him in any fashion. Now he was a father? This was all too strange to process right now.

“Oh! Lily!” Katherine ran over with an oversized shirt and wet hair. “Nono, you have to sleep baby.”

“Daddy.” Lily pointed at John.

Katherine gave a helpless smile before picking up the girl. “Yes, but come on, you have to sleep.” She carried Lily out of the room as John sat in thought.

This is weird. How am I supposed to act around these people? Maybe it’s best if I left now, before I bring these two any harm.

Katherine came back into the room. “Sorry, she’s held onto that picture since she was young. I-I wasn’t sure if you’d ever come back, but I figured she’d need a father figure.” She wrung her hands.

“It’s okay, she’s cute.” John gave a smile that he thought would be disarming. Instead, she looked at him with a confused gaze.

She grabbed her head. “Okay, okay, what is this?” She waved her hand at him. “What do you want Johnny?”

John blinked. “I, uh… I don’t… nothing.”

“Nothing? No, no no no. You… Do you need money?”

“No.”

“Are you planning on hiding here from your gangster friends?”

“No!”

“Then what? Why are you acting like this?”

John didn’t know what to say. He was acting normal, right? “Listen, Katherine, I’ve just taken a hit to the head, I’m trying to get my bearings but… yeah, maybe I’m in trouble with some bad guys, I don’t know, my memory is… hazy right now. But I plan on leaving, okay? I’m sorry for coming here, but I was just a bit shaken up.” He stood up as he prepared to leave.

She stepped in front of him. “You really did hit your head, didn’t you?”

He laughed as he touched the large gash on his face. “You just noticed?”

She looked at him with a strange gaze. “You’re different. You’ve never called me Katherine before.” She grabbed his shirt and pulled him to the bathroom. She sat him down on the closed toilet and began to pull out bandages and alcohol. John wasn’t sure what to make of this sudden attitude change. “I swore I’d curse you to death if I ever saw you again, but now… do you remember me?” She took a wet towel and began cleaning the dried blood around his head wound.

“I…” He wanted to say yes for some reason. To be nice? To not be cruel? But he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep it up, he couldn’t even act like the asshole that previously existed. “I’m sorry, but I don’t. I don’t remember myself if I’m honest.”

She looked at him in the eyes, staring at him. He began to squirm under her gaze. “Hold this.” She placed a bandage and began taping it over the wound. She glanced at him as she finished up. “You always called me Kat. You hated the idea of being a father, and you seemed to never even want to lay eyes on Lily. I almost understood when you ran off.”

He stared back with his mouth open.

She twisted her mouth into a grimace. “I never forgave you for leaving us.”

“I’m sorry.”

“And that!” She raised her volume. “You have never said you were sorry before. Not once! Just today you’ve said it over and over, it’s like you can’t help yourself.”

He couldn’t help himself, he almost said it again. He stood up as if he wanted to go somewhere, do something, but again, he didn’t know what to do. Leave? Apologize? He was never good with people, any relationship he had tried to form was unsatisfying and over quick.

They both stood there in the tiny bathroom, looking at each other in silence for a while.

“You really aren’t lying?” she asked as she hung her head. After a moment, she stepped forward and shoved her head into his chest, wrapping her arms around him. She began to sob. “You just left… you left just when we needed you the most. I moved out here for you, and now…”

She sobbed into his chest as he wrapped his arms around her. He opened his mouth to say something, to comfort her somehow, but he didn’t know what would make this better, so he said nothing. The two of them stood for a while, holding one another.

After some time, she pulled him with her into the bedroom.

“I should leave,” he said.

“Just stay one night,” she sobbed.

She slept with her head on his shoulder. He couldn’t sleep at all.

Katherine had curled up next to him, gripping him with desperation as if she was afraid he would run off again. She wasn’t wrong to think so, but he couldn’t stay. He got up and left the room as quiet as he could manage. After finding a scrap envelope and a pen, he wrote down why he needed to leave, how he’d come back. It felt empty. He felt like he was doing what this body had done before.

He shook his head and left the envelope on the kitchen table. On the coat rack was a large, hooded jacket that was his size. He slipped it on and stepped out into the cold night.

He jogged down the steps and walked down to the street. The men had mentioned the docks, perhaps some memory would jar out of this damned body, he thought. Then I’ll find that stupid case for those gangsters and get out of this mess.

He crossed the street and took a small road that lead towards the harbor.

A car parked on the street jolted as a large man leaned forward. “Oh! That’s him!” He watched John as he made a call.

“Hey, Tony, I got eyes on Johnny.”

“So he was at his lady’s house,” a voice responded.

“Should we go check inside? Check if he’s stashed anything there?”

“Nah, the case is still pinging somewhere near the docks, we can pay them a visit later. For now, keep an eye on where our Johnny is heading. I’ll get the boys and head over.”

John, unaware of anyone following him, made for the docks. He wasn’t sure which docks, or what part of the docks they meant, but he assumed it was somewhere close to where he had been prematurely buried.

Echoes of cars and signs clanging in the wind made him jump every few blocks. He felt terrified out of his wits. As he drew closer to the docks, he halted, a car was parked on the side of the street.

It was his car!

He moved closer, creeping up on the sedan, before glancing inside. It was empty. He let out a tense breath, unsure of what he had planned to do.

“What was I going to do? Kick my own ass?” He let out a sigh and looked over the car. It looked far more beat up than it should. That was his license plate, those were his seat covers. The car seemed to have hit every single pole and brick wall downtown. He clenched his fists in anger. “You can’t take care of your family, and now you can’t take care of my car??”

He wasn’t sure why he was so mad, this wasn’t even his car anymore. He huffed as he turned and continued on. It seemed like this Johnny was in the area at least. He had a sudden fearful thought. If this guy takes the case and runs off, I’ll be screwed!

John rushed forward, picking up speed as he looked into every abandoned looking building, glanced around every corner. He glanced around yet another dilapidated warehouse when he spotted something. A small boat, slipping down the harbor. On board was a familiar shape. It was odd seeing his old body, but he recognized it without question. He rushed forward as he saw the boat coming to a halt at a small dock that stuck out into the bay.

“What is he doing?” the man tasked with watching Johnny spoke. First he looked over a random car, then he went down and looked at every building in the area. He seemed to spot something and ran into the ruins of an old fish market built over a pier.

“Surround the place, don’t let this fucker slip out.” A large scarred man gave orders from the back seat. Men rushed out from several nearby cars and began moving around the building. Armed to the teeth, they wouldn’t let Johnny go this time.

John crept through the building, it was filled with old stalls, metal pans, and fishing equipment. He moved as quietly as possible, but he didn’t see his old self. Did he not enter? He moved all the way to the back before hearing grunts of exertion and the sound of digging. Peering around the corner, there was his old body, digging into a pile of debris. He began yanking out a two foot by three foot locker box, sweating with the effort. His body had on a very tacky suit, and wore gold rings on every finger.

This asshole has been spending my money! John realized in rage. He had saved up for so long, only to have this guy blow it on tacky jewelry. A sudden voice froze both of their movements.

“Hey! Johnny boy! I know you’re here, I’m guessing the box is here too, huh? You hand it over, nice and quiet-like and we won’t pay a visit to your sweet wife and daughter, okay? Won’t lay a finger on them! But if you waste my any more of my time, I’ll bury you three together!”

John froze, scared out of his mind. He wasn’t used to being yelled at by gangsters, and this guy sounded terrifying. He looked over at Johnny to see what he was doing.

The asshole was trying to run away! He crept along, trying to haul the case over to his small boat. A sense of rage rushed over John and he threw himself around the wall, kicking out at his old body. Johnny collapsed into heap, twitching on the dock boards.

John picked up the case and carried it back around the corner. Johnny had been huffing and struggling to move the box, but John picked it up with ease, holding it overhead. John shook his head. This was a better body, silver linings I suppose.

“I have it here! Please! Don’t hurt the girls.” He stepped out to where he was visible to the gangsters.

“There you go, Johnny. See? Wasn’t so hard, was it? Now bring it over here, nice and easy…”

John took a few steps, but now had to navigate over and around the scattered rubbish and debris with a large box in his arms. As he took another step, a shot rang out.

A splotch of blood erupted from his stomach, he looked down in shock. He looked back over his shoulder and saw his body rising up from the ground with a drawn handgun. A second shot rung out and his shoulder exploded in pain, sending him and the case tumbling to the floor. Johnny huffed his way over and grabbed the case, dragging it off of John and back towards the boat. The two shots had alerted the group of gangsters, but they were too surprised to do anything about it. Now they saw this third party dragging off the case, and the entire building erupted in gunfire.

Johnny slid behind the brick wall and shot the gangsters that were moved to surround the building.

Gunfire rained down around John as he tried to bury himself under rubble. The gunfire lashed across the tables he was hiding under, tearing up the wood floorboards and brick walls. Glass jars broke, men groaned in pain, the world felt like it was exploding around him. The table he was under collapsed on top of him, knocking the breath out of him and pinning him in place. A voice cried out in pain. His voice. His old voice. The gunfire slowed then stopped. A thumping noise approached, then passed by as it marched towards the back.

“Got the case!” A man’s voice called out.

“And? Inside?” The boss character wheezed over the rubble.

“It’s all here, we’re good!”

“Good, good.” The voice let out some of the tension, before building up again. “And who the fuck was that? Bastard shot me.”

“I don’t know, some old tubby accountant-type dressed up as scarface.”

“And Johnny?”

“Dunno, buried under here somewhere...”

“That cockroach…” The growing sound of sirens in the distance interrupted him. “Dammit! If he’s alive, we’ll gut him next time we see him. Grab everyone and let’s go before we get company.”

Once the pier was quiet, John used all of his strength to pull himself out. It was chaos out here. Several bloody spots were nearby, but only one had a body still on it. It was strange looking at himself. A look of pain etched onto his face, frozen in death. He snapped out of his reverie as the sirens began to close in. Realizing he was now trapped on a pier, he looked around for a way out.

The small boat Johnny had brought sat bobbing. He hopped on board and untied it from the dock. It was a small fishing boat with an electric trolling motor, a quick switch and a simple throttle made it easy to get moving. He was a good distance away when police cars pulled up, lights flashing. He went further down the harbor and ditched the boat closer to Katherine’s place. As he pulled himself out, he noticed his old gym bag in the boat. Curious, he unzipped it to check inside. Hundred dollar bills greeted him. That bastard hadn’t spent it all! He closed up the bag with a grin and hefted it over his good shoulder. His side ached in pain, and his shoulder seemed broken, but he could last. He marched back up the hills arriving at Kathrine's as the sun was rising.

He felt exhausted, but he climbed the stairs. I feel woozy… am I losing blood? He looked down, yeah, he was. His shirt and jeans were soaked with it. He ignored it and continued climbing. He made his way to the door, huffing. He was about to knock when the door yanked open. Katherine stood, eyes puffy, his hasty letter gripped in her hands. She looked at him first in anger, then in shock as she saw the blood.

“You! What happened?” She pulled open the coat, paling as she revealed the extent of his wounds.

“I fixed my problems.” He smiled at her.

She grabbed him and pulled him inside, pushing him into a chair. She began frantically cleaning up his injuries.

He pointed to the bag. “Open it.”

She looked at the bag, then back at his wounds. “Later, we can deal with that later.”

“No, open it,” John insisted.

It would be easier for her to resist if he was acting like his old self, but for some reason gentle urging was far more effective than yelling right now. She went over to the bag and unzipped it, revealing hundreds of thousands of dollars.

She looked shocked before looking angry. “Did you rob some place?”

“What? No.”

“Did you hold up a bank or something? Is that why you’re shot?” She was now yelling.

“Wait, No! I earned that money! Working an honest job!” he shouted back. “I earned it! I-It’s hard to explain, but I promise, that money is mine, and I got it legally. A man tried taking it from me, and I got it back.”

“With the gangsters?” Katherine pouted.

“Ah, no, that was something else, but that’s also been resolved.” He sounded like a liar. “Listen, I’m not the Johnny that you knew. But I feel like I owe it to you, to help, to be around. Have you ever thought of moving to the countryside?” He looked at her with hope. “Would you like to live somewhere out there, with me? Away from all this? I’m not who you once knew, but I’d like to know you. I’d like to have someone with me for once.”

“You don’t want to be a gangster? What, you want to move out to the countryside and become a farmer?”

John smiled. “Maybe?”

She huffed as she looked him over. “It would be nice to have you around, Johnny.”

He looked at her with a warmth he had never felt before. “Call me John.”