• I woke up with a bright light in my eyes. I jerked my head back in response. A short man in a white lab coat was in front of me, he turned his flashlight as I came to. “Everything looks good.” He scratched at his head. I could see his scalp through his thinning white hair. It was pale and smooth, unlike his shriveled up face. “How do you feel?”
    “I’m fine, what’s going on?”
    “I’m Doctor Ian Reinman, you remember me don’t you…Sal?”
    “You’re the guy in charge of my clone… uhh, the perfect match organ donation department.”
    “That’s right. That was almost too good. How could you have remembered all that?”
    “It’s written on your pocket.”
    He made a check on a list I couldn’t read from where I was.
    “Memory is good. Do you know why you’re here Sal?”
    “No, why? My organs are fine.”
    “I’m afraid it’s quite the contrary.”
    “What do you mean? Which one?”
    “All of them, Sal. You were declared legally dead two days ago, and as you had no will, It was decided that a clone of you could provide the consent we needed. So what do you think, Sal? Do you want to come back from the dead?”
    There was a moment of silence as I digested the information. I stared down at my body. It was so clean, and paler than I was used to. It occurred to me that though I had memories of my life, but I had never been outside this room. This pastel turquoise frock was the only thing I had ever worn. The only words I could muster were, “What day is it?”
    “It’s Monday, 11 o’clock pm.”
    “I have work in an hour.”
    “Yes, you do.” He reached out with his clipboard like he was handing out a gift. His smile reminded me of those late night infomercials. “Sign here for your belongings, and your life back.”
    I picked up his pen. It felt foreign in my hand. The signature, however, came as naturally as it always had.
    “Sal Whiticker. Six-one-oh-one-oh-twenty three-fifteen. Seventy nine-fifty two East Bell Street, Las Vegas, Nevada, 89140. 32 years old, black hair, blue eyes, six foot-one, two hundred and seventy pounds. Welcome back.”
    A guard in the next room handed me clothes I recognized, and a golden ring. It was my wedding ring. He pointed me to a room where I could change. I slipped on the ring and walked inside.
    There was a mirror in the room. I didn’t look like the same person. At first I couldn’t place it, then I noticed - and it felt like a cube of ice ran down my back - my right shoulder looked hauntingly blank with the absence of Nichole’s name scrawled across it. I got that tattoo on our honeymoon. Nichie always wanted to go to Paris, but never thought we could afford it. I saved my pennies for a year, that and my credit card got us to Paris and put a ring on her finger. I could get the tattoo redone, but even the same artist couldn’t make it the same one again.
    When I came out, Doctor Reinman was waiting for me. I threw the hospital gown at his clipboard like it was a coat rack. He managed a smile. “I took the liberty of ordering you a cab, he’ll be outside shortly.”
    “How did I die? How come I don’t remember anything from yester-…from Friday?”
    “The police found your body in an alley on Industrial, there were two bullets in your back. Police put it down as armed robbery since all of your things were gone. You wouldn’t remember anything about that day since you probably wouldn’t have updated your memory until you got home that night. We weren’t able to create a profile.”
    Industrial? I shook my head. I must have been walking home. Nichie always told me I’d get hurt if I walked home in the middle of the night. She wanted me to take the bus. The busses took too long.
    I stood outside for a while, I still wasn’t sure what was going on. This whole thing seemed like a bad dream. I wanted to see Nichie, she always knew what to do.
    I didn’t notice the cab drive up. He honked his horn to get my attention and I climbed in.
    “Sahara and Main.”
    “Sure.”
    Neither of us said another word. It dawned on me that I didn’t have any money. I got a sinking feeling in my stomach, like when you’re on a plane and it jumps in altitude too fast. I’d have to ask one of the boys for money when we got there. The driver drove right up to the construction site. Good man. Most cabbies dropped me off at the street.
    “Hang here a sec, I don’t have any money. I gotta go get some for ya.”
    “No charge.”
    “Bullshit, nothing’s free!”
    “That company that called me is a regular customer. They don’t like people who just got surgery driving home. Of course I think there was something about operating heavy machinery too but what do I know? Anyway, we drive his clients for free and he pays the cab company a lot of ‘donations’, so you’re good.”
    “Well s**t, now I feel bad. I didn’t even shake the old man’s hand.”
    “Have a good one, pal.”
    I noticed the foreman walking down from his office in the corner of my eye. I waved off the cab and met him halfway.
    “Didn’t expect to see you today.”
    “Why’s that?”
    “I gotta say I’ve seen some s**t in my day, but that was one hell of a sick note yesterday.”
    “Yeah, I’m feelin’ better.”
    “You think you’re funny, Sal? I called everybody yesterday. Somehow you convinced the whole city that you were dead. Why go through all that work if you intended to show anyway?”
    “Aw, I didn’t know you cared so much, boss. I might just give you a kiss.”
    “Yeah you’ll see how sentimental I can be with my boot up your a**! Get to work, you can start by tearing down that steel frame.”
    I was good at breaking things down, I could do it barehanded some times. You just gotta know which bolts to loosen and a tall steel frame will fall like origami. I went at the tower of scrap with a wrench I borrowed from a pile of tools left at the site. Whoever put this up stripped the bolts to hell, and the wrench wouldn’t take to it. I wrapped my hand tight around the bolt to see if it would budge. One good twist and my hand tore open like tissue paper. “********!” I smothered my hand in my shirt and wiped my hand clean to see what the damage was. My hands were as soft as buttery as a kid’s right out of high school. I went to the water truck to clean my hands, I must’ve been there for two seconds before I saw the foreman at my work site. His eyes were darting back and forth looking for me.
    I saved him the trouble.
    “What the hell have you been doing, Sal?”
    “Those bolts are stripped flat. I’ll get ‘em out, I just cut my hand.”
    “On what, a bolt? Are you looking to screw me out of money with a work related injury?”
    “No one’s tryin’ to take your money.”
    “I’m not so sure.”
    “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    “Your doctor just called me, what’s that about?”
    “I dunno, what’d he say?”
    “He said you weren’t really yourself today. He asked me how you’re doing.”
    I kept myself from laughing.
    “I told him you’re like molasses out here. I think you should take the day off, I can’t keep looking over my shoulder waiting for you to jump off some scaffolding for a disability check.”
    “Sure thing, boss.”
    I tossed the wrench back in the pile of tools that who knows left there. “Can I use your phone?”
    “Yeah, whatever. Use the one in the office.”
    The foreman stayed there looking for someone else to yell at. “Johnson. Johnson! Pick your s**t up!”
    I picked up the phone and dialed the first number I’ve ever dialed.
    “Hello?”
    “Hey babe, it’s me…well…”
    “I know, the doctor called me.”
    There was a minute of just breathing over the phone.
    “So you’re at work?”
    “Yeah, well I…I’m coming home early.”
    “Alright.”
    “I don’t have the bus money. I…”
    “Don’t. Don’t walk, I’ll call a cab.”
    “I-“ Click.
    I waited for about fifteen minutes before I saw the taxi parked on the road at the other side of the site. I walked over. “Seventy nine-fifty two Bell Street.”
    I looked down at my hands. I was going home but it would be my first time there. I have a son, but I’m a virgin. I felt like me, but what if they got something wrong? What if they mixed part of my psychological profile with someone else’s, and the smell of flowers would remind me of some memory I never had? I would never know the difference. A wrong memory would be just as real and acceptable, because the truth is none of my memories were mine.
    “I’m not me.” I whispered it to myself.
    When we got there, Nichie was waiting to give the driver money. She was beautiful as always. She had her hair pinned up like she always did when she hadn’t washed it. I liked it that way, it brought out here hazel eyes and I could see all her freckles. They were like stars in a milky white sky. I wanted to kiss her all over. Just then, Brian burst out of the front door. “Daddy!”
    He was in his P.J.’s, it was past his bed time. Me and Nichie smiled as I scooped him up in my arms. “Hey big guy.”
    “What happened to you, daddy?” He was tugging on my blood-stained shirt, I forgot about it.
    “Oh, daddy hurt himself at work.”
    “Are you okay?”
    “Yeah, I’m fine.”
    “Mommy said you went away, where did you go?”
    I looked up but Nichie had already gone inside.
    “Daddy was sick, I had to go to the doctor.”
    “Did you get a shot?”
    “Yeah.” I walked inside and put Brian down. “Two of them. In the back.”
    I walked upstairs. Nichie was changing her shirt. She put on one of my old shirts that fit like a tiny dress on her. She had her hair down now, she was getting ready for bed.
    I stood there a while and we stared at each other. I walked in and went to give her a hug. She reached out and lifted the sleeve of my shirt, and stared for a moment at my blank shoulder. They could remake me but they couldn’t make me the same person again. Nichie closed her eyes, already welling up with tears. She felt around for my hands and moved them to her shoulders. She wrapped her arms around me and cried deeply into my chest. I leaned down and buried my face in her hair. We cried to each other for forever it seemed, helpless in each other’s arms. Neither of us could speak a word. There was a knock at our bedroom door. Nichie wiped the tears from her face and climbed into bed. I could hardly speak, my words were strained and hesitant as I tried to hold back the tears.
    “What’s up, big guy?”
    “What’s wrong?” His voice made it harder to speak. I wiped my nose with my sleeve and tried not to cry.
    “N…nothing. Nothing kiddo, go to bed okay? I’ll see you in the morning.”
    I sat on the bed for a while looking out our window. Nichie was facing the other direction, still crying into her pillow. I watched her, unable to speak. I watched her cry herself to sleep. I’d never be able to bring her husband back. Just me being here was a reminder of the pain. I walked to the living room. I grabbed some paper. I wrote the first note I’d ever written.
    I grabbed my six-shooter out of the closet and walked down to Brian’s room. I sat down on his bed and put my fingers through his hair.
    “Daddy?”
    “Hey big guy, I gotta talk to you.” I picked him up from under his arms and sat him down on his pillow.
    “Daddy’s gotta go away again.”
    “No! Don’t go! Why are you going away?”
    “Daddy’s real sick, I gotta go back to the doctor.” Brian stood up and hugged me around the neck.
    “Don’t go!”
    “I have to go, kiddo. I have to get better.”
    “How long are you gonna be gone?”
    I sat him down on my lap and looked him in the eyes. “I need you to be a big boy now, look at me. I’m gonna be gone a long time.”
    “Noooo!”
    “Hey, listen to me. I need someone to take care of mommy, you’re the big man of the house now. You’re my big, tough kid right?”
    His eyes started to well up with tears.
    “No, don’t cry. I need you to be a big boy now, ‘kay?”
    He hugged me and we cried a bit together.
    “I gotta go now.”
    “Can I come with you?”
    “No, who’s gonna take care of mommy? That’s your job now, you gotta make sure nothing bad happens to her. You hear me?”
    “Okay.”
    “Okay, you’re the man of the house now. You have to be a big boy now, no more crying.”
    He wiped the tears from his eyes. I started walking towards the door. Brian followed quickly after and hugged my leg. “I’m scared.”
    “Here, I got something for ya’.” I pulled the gold ring off my finger and held it out in front of him. “This ring will make you a man. Once you can wear it, you won’t be scared any more. Until then, you keep it in your pocket like this.” I dropped it in his right pocket and patted down on it. “Any time you’re scared, just hold onto it and think of me.”
    “Will I ever see you again?”
    “I don’t think so big guy…” He hugged my leg again, tighter this time. “I need you to be my big strong boy, can you do that?”
    He gave me a quick nod. “I’m proud of you, don’t let anything happen to mommy, okay?” He nodded again, trying not to cry. I opened the door and started towards the city.
    “I love you, daddy!”
    “I love you too, kiddo.” Brian watched as I walked away with his hand in his right pocket.
    Nichie,
    I know it’s not the same. I know nothing can fix it. I can’t bring him back, but I understand him more than anyone can. I have his memories and his thoughts. I know he would want me to give you this.
    Hey sweetheart. I love you so much. I’m nothing without you. Nothing but a big goof who doesn’t know the words to tell you how special you are. You’re my everything, baby. You’ve made me the happiest man on the planet. You remember in Paris when you asked me to get you the stars? I’ve been reaching every day, that’s how come I got so tall. I’m a little closer now. I’m gonna grab up all the stars and make them brighter just for you. I know I never got to tell you goodbye. Don’t be sad for me. You gave me the best life I could ever have. Goodbye, baby. I’ll miss you.