Panamemoria

Ah, the walls are moving once more. Is the paint getting hungry again? 

I sat on a cold bench, waiting for the train to get here. The television was spouting some other mundane subject that felt the exact same as the other thousand or so news topics covered elsewhere. I’ve soaked in enough “knowledge” or whatever they say it is – propaganda is a more proper term. I see the glazed eyes of the denizens… The lack of spark in their eyes is nothing new. Living here is like reinventing the color gray. They say it is new, but is it really? 

The train was close to arriving. I had been sitting there for hours. 

It was never officially said when my people entered into a period of “peace”. Maybe it was just a few months ago that life started to become mundane. Or maybe it was a hundred years ago, when a miraculous panacea entered society with the hopes of “curing everything” and “lengthening the human race”. People scrambled like birds on breadcrumbs and everyone collected their prescription without a second thought. The medicine was believed to have such a transforming factor in life that the faceless manufacturer neglected to put the side effects on their infomercial. 

Or maybe they did voice the side effects, and people just did not care. Who knows? Nobody did. But I wanted to know. I didn’t buy into the talks of the town, I wanted to know the what? The how? And especially the who? 

I delved like a miner into a cave that started losing direction, I felt so inverted and vein led to vein of iron gates that I couldn’t get past. I would schedule interviews with whistleblowers but my interviewees blew me by. Every. Single. Time. I would always find them with that same look in their eye. They took the drug! These poor souls, some wouldn’t even bother to cancel the meeting. I would find them in their home office and after some questions they would start drooling before their response. Others who miraculously had a gap in their corporate lifestyle would suddenly respond to my letters with a denial of interview, with a common theme of “I have suddenly found an invigoration to continue my work.” 

Lies! They fell victim as well! Either they were “incentivized” to begin a prescription or they never had an interest in shedding truth to begin with. 

I began to feel lost, I really did. My friends gradually became less of who they were too. Their hot opinions, their aspirations, unsupported theories, disagreements, quirks, dislikes… Began to fade away. If I was blind I couldn’t distinguish who I was talking with, their monotonous voices or ideas never gave so much as a hint of individualism. 

I used to have friends, now I just have Friend. 

I had to shed light on what this disease was. I decided to forsake legality and I searched for semblances, shadows, crumbs, anything and everything that I could get my hands on. My search was bone-dry for years, I felt like I was spinning in untold directions without gravity. A fish in a whirlpool is what I was. 

But one day I struck metal. 

I had a scheduled interview that I had forgotten about. The interviewee told me they would be free in a few years for a 30-minute interview. I agreed to interview just to humor the idea but no it was real – my computer desktop reminded me that I had an obligation in the afternoon. 

I packed my notebook that only had three pages filled of the eighty that were advertised and I set off across my city to meet this person. I arrived at their home office not knowing what to expect. Their front door had plants, an oddity. Maybe there was hope for unearthing even just a singular letter in the company’s name. 

The door buzzed open, it had been forever since I entered into another home. I could smell the dirt and dust and mud that was sparse in the abode. Life… That is what this home smells like. I did not think I would miss the smell of earth, but this is exactly what I needed. Maybe the owner of this home would have what this society doesn’t. 

I walked toward their office with my heart racing like a caffeinated squirrel. The scent of earth grew stronger, with more plants littering the home. This is it, my breakthrough! The search could finally obtain some kindling and the fire of life could spark once more! I entered the office, and I conducted my interview. The following is an excerpt from my notebook: 

          The homeowner wishes to remain anonymous, they will be referred to as Jaw. They have a postural

          gaunt not unlike everyone else and their eyes are not unlike everyone else. I do not expect much. 

          Thank you for meeting with me under such an intense schedule. Time is short, so I want to ask: What do

          you do and who do you work for? 

          Jaw: I am a marketing assistant for the company who designed Panamemoria, a panacea for the

          human condition. I do not remember the name of the business I work for, it has been a long time since I

          have been requested to name my employer. 

          I have forgotten the drug name, the infomercial hasn’t been aired in a long time. Why is Panamemoria

          not being discussed on television anymore? 

          Jaw: There simply hasn’t been a reason to air it. The drug has achieved such fame since its debut that

          word-of-mouth was more effective to advertise through people who have taken the drug. 

          

          Are you aware of the side effects that plague the people who have taken the drug? If so, why hasn’t

          there been more education? 

          Jaw: I wouldn’t use the word plague, but yes I am aware. The infomercial gave the necessary drug facts

          for patients to make an educated decision. 

          What were the side effects? 

          Jaw: See for yourself. 

          Jaw played a tape of the original infomercial. I proceeded to revisit a week’s worth of breakfast, lunch,

          and dinner after searching for the restroom. I returned to his office after collecting myself. 

          I am so sorry. Must’ve been something I ate. I am good now, I swear. With the time we have left- 

          Jaw: Ate? What do you mean, ate? Have you not taken your dose of Panamemoria? 

          No, I have never taken a dose of Panamemoria. 

          Jaw proceeded to clack on his keyboard. He let out a deep sigh. They looked around and after a

          pause, removed contacts from their eyes. I have not seen this look on someone since forever ago. They

          looked more human than anyone else I have seen. They straightened their posture and spoke to me,

          with a voice so clear and strange that I almost didn’t process the inflection in their speech. 

          Jaw: You were scheduled to take your last dose six years ago under supervision. This would have

          completed your treatment. Why have you not returned to take the full treatment course? 

          You are lying! I have no recollection of taking this drug. 

          Jaw pressed his temples in and let out a deep groan. I started to feel uneasy. 

          Jaw: For some reason, you never returned to complete your course. There is a one in a million chance

          that this could have happened and you are so incredibly lucky… Or maybe unlucky. Who knows? 

          He clacked more on the keyboard. 

          Jaw: I am going to read you a list of symptoms. Tell me if one or any of these apply to you:

          Hallucinations - such as seeing inanimate objects move. A persistent sense of contempt. Followed by

          hunger, thirst, pain – major or minor. Or maybe desire for things such as love and adventure. Do any of

          these symptoms affect you? 

          All of those affect me. But one of those is much more apparent. These hallucinations… They are very

          vivid. I see walls move and flex. The ground wobbles and I have seen people disappear into walls. I

          have seen my furniture migrate inside my home. None of this matters though, I would never have taken

          that poison! 

          Jaw: Those are not hallucinations. They are very real. Listen, it's very strange but the company made a

          mistake not pursuing you to follow up with your treatment. 

          I have never taken anything! Why do you insist that I had treatment when I never stepped foot in their

          clinics? 

          Jaw: Your file says you did. I am thinking that your memory has been affected. I wouldn’t be surprised

          with the laundry list of withdrawal symptoms that the drug produces. 

          Jaw pauses and glances at the clock. 

          Jaw: Okay, I have to get back to work soon. I will give you your file to look over so you can make your

          decision on whether or not to finalize your treatment plan. This is all I can do for you. I appreciate you

          coming out here, it has been a long time since I have met someone so passionate. 

          Do you know a time when we can meet again? 

          Jaw: I can fit you in after my final dose of Panamemoria, which is scheduled two weeks from today. 

          Final DOSE?! Isn’t it clear that this stuff is going to take away what makes you, you?! 

          Jaw: Thank you for your input but the treatment has been very effective for my condition. Now, I have to

          get back to work. Please see yourself out. 

          I can’t leave knowing that you are the only person I have seen in years who has a semblance of self

          left. You don’t have to take the drug! Please, help me to fight this. We can start helping people find

          their way back to life! 

          Jaw paused for a whole minute. 

          Jaw: Nope I’m okay, good luck with that. I am content with my treatment. Please leave. 

          Jaw put his contacts back on and slouched his shoulders. This interview has concluded. 

I left his home soon afterwards. My file was clutched in hand and so was one of his plants. I made my way back home and after a long walk, I wanted to relax and finally decompress. Years of searching for answers finally paid off. That night I got the best sleep that I have ever had. I woke up to the smell of earth radiating through my home. I felt alive, I could feel the warm sunshine on my skin, the wind whistling through my home, the beautiful rays of light that peered into the depths of my very soul. 

I decided to check the mail out of curiosity. Maybe there were more interviews, more people that would be willing to meet, more chances to reveal the truth. To my surprise, I had a single envelope, marked with a distinct “P” that seemed familiar. I opened the envelope and was greeted with a letter that I wish I never opened. It read: 

          Dearest Robin, Apologies! We never followed up with your final treatment of Panamemoria. Thank you

          for taking the initiative to consult one of our beloved family members! Your courage is inspiring to us

          here at headquarters. We felt deeply moved after you voiced your troubles. And your condition

          motivated us to continue fighting for the future we believe in! Unfortunately, there are no active clinics in

          your area capable of providing treatment. However, do not fret! At HQ, we have access to abundant

          resources. And after seeing your need for help we have decided to mobilize a clinic that will come to

          you! Our physicians will provide your treatment in the comfort of your very own home! We can’t 6 wait

          for you to meet our medical team. They work tirelessly and without rest to provide the care that our

          patients need. So please be considerate and keep your door unlocked so we can provide the highest

          standard of medical care that you deserve! 

          See you soon. 

With all love and then some, 

P 

Did I get ratted out? Jaw must’ve said something. I don’t know. I couldn’t really think about that. All I knew is that I felt unsafe, and I was ready to leave the city. It didn’t have anything left for me anyway. My friends, gone. My family, gone. All I had was all that I was carrying to the new life, where I hoped to be safe and hoped to bring the truth to the light, regardless of who was listening. 

I sat down on the train looking at my fellow passengers, and we finally left. There were a couple chatting families, some people were zoning in on the tv that was flashing the new grays, and some seats moved when passengers walked by. And there was a group of people who appeared to be wearing the same shirt. Strange, they sat so still, staring at lights that blitzed past us. And on their shirt, they all wore the letter… P.

Jayce is a Biochemistry major seeking new experiences. He is excited for what life has in store and where his faith will guide him.