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Flat farmland lay on both sides of the road, with hills in the distance. I was quite curious as to why the handcuffs and rope had been retired. On top of that, I was permitted to gaze out the window at my surroundings as we drove. What had changed?Soon, we were on the outskirts of a larger town. The driver pulled up in front of a good-sized office building and steered the vehicle into a parking spot. He checked in with a receptionist at the front desk, and then led me to an elevator. We traveled up to the sixth floor and walked to the very end of a narrow hallway. An elegant door made from expensive-looking wood beckoned. Following a knock on the door, a gruff voice inside produced some kind of brief intonation. The English-speaking grouch who'd driven me here opened the door for me, motioned me inside, and then split.There in the swank, roomy, luxurious office, seated in a high-backed swivel chair in front of an opulent desk, I took in the sneering countenance of Mr. Choi.I was. June was flitting away. What green was left, would soon be uniform yellow ochre, variations only caused by the action of the hot sierra winds that blew the grass this way and that. The fields he had known since he was old enough to notice had not changed, nothing was different. Even the smell of the fertile earth was the same as his memory recalled.Clarity of this familiar landscape, felt somehow, foreign amongst all hazy memories of his recent past. Jake knew his name, knew this road, these were absolute certainties, but his recent history was nothing more than a flimsy curtain. One he could almost see through, but somehow, the gauzy material did just enough to hide the details.He continued on the road, loose gravel crunching under foot, smelling the grasses, the smell of tarmac gently heating in the sun, until he turned the corner. His home, the home of his childhood, small and remote, standing in a cleft of the undulating hills, just as it always had, just as it always would, he.
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