The Girl In The Picture
By: Matthew Donnellon
Tags: Short Story, Love, Fiction, Relationships, Life

Some said that Ethan Mathers was one of the smartest men in the world.

He didn’t know if that was true, but there was one thing he was sure about and that was and that was he had the best memory in the world.

He had what many experts called an Eidetic memory, but some thought that it went past that.

His memory was photographic. No detail went unnoticed. But he could also recall every word ever spoken to him or in his presence. It was as though he had a video camera permanently recording.

Because of his prodigious memory many things came easy to him. School was a breeze.

At his relatively young age he had graduated both Law and Medical school in which he used both degrees to parlay into a lucrative writing career. Plus, his memory meant that he could read entire textbooks and tomes about different theories in hours and he retained all of it leading to him collecting a vast collection of wealth.

From that, word of his memory spread and people wrote books about him and several high profile interviews increased his fame even more. This, along with his writing career, caught the attention of more than one prestigious think tanks, which turned into high profile consultant gigs.

Soon, he was making money hand over fist.

He was modest in his interviews and in the articles he wrote.

But in truth he loved the attention, and he loved the money even more. People paid exorbitant amounts of money for a few minutes of his time.

He went all over the world. People wanted to get his advice. CEO’s brought him in to determine the future of their company. Heads of government wanted his advice on matters of state.

Professors like to hear his opinion on all kinds of subjects. Schools wanted him to part of their faculty. Dozens of companies offered him a board seat.

He turned it all down though.

He liked his one man consulting firm. It gave him the freedom he wanted and left him flush with cash.

He bought a stately, modern manor on the edge of town and he treated the whole thing as an office. Each room dedicated to a different field of study. He had a microbiology lab, as well as an office dedicated entirely to archeology. He had no less than three libraries in his home.

At night he would watch the stars and in the morning he would report to the top experts in astronomy that he had found another supernova, as well as some new theories on the way the universe worked.

He walked around his rather large estate. It was a monument to everything his mind had built.

There was just one thing that haunted him. In his house, there were pictures of a women, but he didn’t know who she was. He could remember every face he saw yet her name was lost to him.

It was the only time his great memory every failed him. He searched every corner of the mental palace between his ears can could not find an answer. It gnawed at him like a dog with a bone. He also couldn’t bare to get rid of the photos and there were many. She appeared all over his bedroom and his private study.

Two days a week, he had open office hours in which anyone that wanted to could seek his opinion on a great many matters.

He would always sit politely and listen making notes with a special legal pad with hand made paper making notes to himself with a fine Blackwing pencil.

Today he gave advice to three people. Each of them if they listened to his advice would have a million dollar business by the end of year.

He also made some adjustments to a gene patent lawyer’s arguments and helped one doctoral student with her thesis.

He was about to close up shop for the day when an old woman asked for a moment of his time.

He didn’t have anywhere to go so he let her come in.

She made some small talk about this and that and she kept talking about the weather.

“Is there something you’d like to discuss. These walk ins have a limit of half an hour,” he said.

“Oh I don’t care to hear about any of your silly theories.”

Oh, he thought to himself. Sometimes people liked to just come in and waste his time. He resigned himself to doodling to pass the half hour away.

“So did you ever figure out who she was?”

Her question made his blood run cold.

She couldn’t possibly be talking about the woman in the picture.

“I’m sorry?”

“Oh you don’t remember me either do you?”

Now he was getting scared because she seemed familiar but he couldn’t place her. And that never happened to him.

“Think boy. Think to before all this. How much do you remember before you had this amazing memory?”

He never wanted to admit it but the time immediately before his memory was a little fuzzy. He remembered being a good student but not anything like he was now. He just told people that asked he wanted to hide his gift so as not to look like a freak. Mostly everyone bought it.

“I…uh…I don’t remember.”

“That’s just a little ironic isn’t it?” the old woman asked.

“I guess so.”

“Think. Remember visiting a small book store just before your sudden gift?”

It was fuzzy, but it did seem familiar.

“Do you remember the old woman running the store?”

He did now.

“It was you.”

“Yes. I remembered a desperate man coming in. A man who couldn’t get into medical school and was looking for anything to help him get an edge. He was worried he’d never…”

“Become a doctor,” Ethan finished her sentence. It was starting to come back.

“Do you remember what I told you?”

“You asked if I wanted to know everything. You said I’d never forget anything.”

“That was mostly true.”

“What do you mean?”

“What about the girl in the picture?” she asked pointing a portrait, “I told you there would a cost to your gift, but you didn’t even listen. You just wanted the gift. ”

“You’re a witch,” Ethan said. He remembered her pulling out the old book and reciting the spell.

“Perhaps.”

“Who’s the woman in the picture?”

“That’s the cost.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Yo get your memory you had to give up the one thing you’d never want to forget.”

“No…”

“Yes. The woman in the picture is your wife. But no matter how well your memory develops you’ll never remember her name or anything about her. Your memories of her gone and these pictures will haunt you till the end of your days,” the old woman said laughing. He couldn’t remember the woman in the picture but he’d never forget the cackle of the old witch as she walked out of his office.