He found himself laying in a ditch, Where am I? How did I get here? Who am I? He reached into his pocket to find his wallet. Where is it? He checked his other pockets and finally found it. The driver's license said that his name was George Clayton and that he lived at 1620 Crescent Drive Ebervale, PA . . .
Since George didn't know which way Ebervale was he figured that he would walk until he found somebody and he would ask them which way Ebervale was.
He walked for what seemed to be 4 or 5 hours until he finally met somebody. The man said that Ebervale was 5 miles the other way.
Frustrated, George set off for Ebervale, yet again. After walking about a mile it began to pour so George decided to rest in the forest until the rain stopped.
When he woke up, George found himself covered in mud and soaking wet. Every time that he would try to stand up he just slipped in the mud and fell right back down. Since he couldn't stand up, George figured that he would have to crawl back out to the road. However, this also didn't work because he couldn't grip into the mud. If he did make progress, when he stopped he would just slide back farther than where he started from. He kept trying for about an hour, but to no avail. By this time George was very frustrated, he had been saying four-letter words for about half an hour, but now he was starting to put them into 5 or 6 word phrases.
After about another 15 minutes of cursing, George finally figured out that he could use the trees to get out of the forest. After about 10 minutes of grabbing from tree to tree he could finally see the road, the road that he had taken for granted just a night ago.
Everybody that George saw, and that saw George ran away from him. Why are they running? What are they afraid of?
Because of the ordeal of getting out of the woods he was covered in mud. This along with the fact that he was limping made him look quite frightful. He obtained the limp during the accident which put him in this predicament.
He walked for about 10 minutes when he heard police sirens. He ignored this figuring that it was none of his business. When the cruiser pulled in front of him he figured that maybe it was his business.
The cop got out of his car, pointed his gun at George, and said "Keep your hands where I can see them!"
George did as the cop said. The cop put handcuffs on George and threw him in the back of the cruiser, bumping his head off of the roof.
The ride to the police station was the longest ride that he could remember ever taking, it was also the only ride he could ever remember taking. After a while the cruiser pulled over by a red building that George figured was the police station.
The cop got out of the car and went into the building. The cop later came out with a white box, the contents of which George had no idea. The cop got back in the car and, occasionally removing something from the box, continued driving.
The car finally arrived at the police station. When the cop helped George out of the car he again bashed George's head on the roof, accidentally of course.
The police had no reason for keeping George there so they gave him a shower and sent him on his way. On his way out George asked the desk clerk, "Which way is Ebervale?"
"You're in Ebervale," the clerk curtly replied.
"Then which way is Crescent Drive?"
Becoming annoyed the clerk answered, "When you leave make a right and go two blocks and there you are."
"Who pissed on your Cheerios?"
"What?"
"I said, 'Thank you'."
"Well then you're welcome."
George left the station, he followed the clerks directions and found himself on Crescent Drive, but he didn't know which house to go to so he asked the first person that he saw. The person told him and he walked to the house. It was a red brick house with a large white door. George walked up to the door and rapped the bronze knocker three or four times.
A woman in her mid-forties answered the door. "Hello."
"Hello."
"Can I help you?"
"I think I live here, or used to live here."
"What gave you that idea?"
"My driver's license."
"May I see it?"
"Sure."
He handed her the license. She looked at the license, at him, and back at the license.
"Is there a problem?"
"I think so, you aren't the person in this picture. The person in this picture is my husband. He's been dead for a month now. Where did you find this?"
"In my pocket, I was in an accident and I couldn't remember who I was and I figured that I was the person in the picture."
She asked "George" if she could have it back, as a memoir, so he gave it to her.
This left "George" right where he started from, except he knew where he was, Ebervale.
"George" was really depressed now so he decided to go back to the police station. Maybe they can help me figure out who I am.
When he went into the station the desk clerk said, "May I help you?" This was a different desk clerk which pleased "George" because he didn't like the way that the other one talked to him.
"Who am I?"
"Huh?"
"I said 'Who am I?' "
"Are you joking?"
"No, do you know who I am?"
"You're serious."
"Yes!" replied "George", who was becoming irritated.
"Sorry, I don't know who you are."
"Oh, okay, do you know how I could find out who I am?"
"Try going over to the hospital, maybe they can help you."
"Where's the hospital?"
"Let me have somebody take you there."
"They won't put me in handcuffs will they?"
"No, you'll get to ride up front with them."
"Okay."
"George" waited about an hour, a lot of people passed him but none of them even noticed him. Finally the clerk yelled to somebody, "Hey, Nick! Can you take this guy over to the hospital?"
"Sure, I have to go that way anyway. Come on."
"George" followed him out to a gray Mazda. "Watch your head getting in," the officer said, "we wouldn't want you to hit your head off of the roof, now would we? Why are you going over to the hospital anyway? You don't look hurt."
"I lost my memory."
"So what's your name?"
"I don't know, I ..."
"Interesting name, I don't know, is that Italian?" joked the officer.
"Oh, that's nice, joke at my predicament."
"I think I will. Do you at least remember what gender you are?"
"George" jokingly replied, " I don't know, for some reason the word hermaphrodite comes to mind, YES I KNOW WHAT GENDER I AM!"
"Touchy, touchy."
"Just shut up and drive."
They didn't speak again until they got to the hospital. "Last stop, Ebervale General. Go in these doors and the reception desk will be on your right."
"All right, bye."
So "George" went into the hospital. The first thing that he noticed was the smell. It was uncommonly familiar, it wasn't a pleasant smell yet it soothed him. This bothered "George" because he knew that people died in hospitals, yet he was soothed by this smell, the smell of death. It was because of this that "George" no longer wanted to find out who he was, instead he decided to go on as Ron, Ron something, I don't remember the last name.
Few people know what happened to Ron after he left that hospital, there are a lot of theories floating around. Some people think that he died because of a hemorrhage, others think that he works at a 7 - 11 in Kentucky.
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