Morning Amnesia

         

Morning Amnesia

         



         “Why are you harassing me? I’m up! I’m up!” Dorian Fink sat up tiredly in his bed, hair mussed and pale face covered in twelve hours worth of beard. He continued to yell at his alarm clock as he threw an arm out to knock it off the nightstand, finally succeeding in shutting it up.

         Sitting up he looked around his humble room to see that it was still dark outside.

         “What the-?” Dorian grabbed his alarm clock and glared at the time. 5:45 am. Why on earth did he set his alarm so early?

         A loud commotion came from outside his bedroom door, jarring him wide awake. Scared, Dorian made his way to his door, cautious, wishing he had a weapon to use on the burglars who had trespassed into his home. But before he could open the door to surprise the thieves, it flew open on its own.

         “Ah! You’re finally up! You’ve been hitting the snooze button since 4:30,” a familiar voice called out.

         “Dad?” Dorian asked, nervous. “What on earth are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be home with mom?” A frantic thought popped into Dorian’s mind. Did something happen? Was Mom in the hospital? But Dorian couldn’t get any words out. He just gawked at his father, dressed in bright green boxers and a white t-shirt, unable to articulate at such a ridiculously early time in the morning.

         “Dorian, you know full and well that I spent the night. Had to make sure you were okay after the party. You stumbled in around two. I needed to make sure you were up on time. Come on. You need to get dressed and be on your way,” his dad answered before he walked away, down the short but brightly lit hallway into the living room.

         “Party?” Dorian muttered to himself. He tried in vain to understand what his father was referring to. What did he do last night?  Try as he might, he couldn’t remember.

         Shaking his head as though to clear his mind, he followed his father into the living room which was as bright as the hallway. Dorian was surprised to find his home bursting with activity.

         Dorian stood mouth agape as he watched two cousins, Fred and Hamilton, sitting around his coffee table debating over various neckties. An old friend sat in front of the television absorbed in a conversation with an uncle (who was notorious for being the family drunk) about the possibility of loose women at a reception. But the craziest sight of all came from the direction of the dining room. His family members had turned that section of his home into one big dressing room. At least ten men were in various stages of dress, some in tuxedos, others in underwear. Dorian resisted the urg to gag from all of the different colognes that had been misted into the air causing one big stink. What in the world was going on?

         Upon seeing Dorian lingering at the edge of the room still in his pajamas, his best friend, Danny, stood up and began to applaud. Soon, everyone joined in as they hooted and shouted to Dorian.

         “Here’s the man of the hour! He’s finally awake!” Danny yelled over the loud clapping, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. Dorian's uncle, not the drunk, came over and slapped him good naturedly on his back, a cigar firmly clamped between his teeth. “Gonna finally become a man today, ain’t cha, Dorian?” his uncle asked in his heavy smoker’s voice.

         “Uh, sure, Uncle Lou,” Dorian replied, uncertain to what Lou meant. Everyone in the room laughed.

         “Don’t scare him, Lou,” his father said. “You might give him cold feet.”

         “Ah, I’m just messing with the kid,” Uncle Lou replied as he walked away.

          Dorian didn’t know what to say except the obvious.          

         “Um, why are you all here?”

         Perplexed, Danny looked at Dorian.  He shook his head  and said to another gentleman next to him, “I knew we shouldn’t have made him drink so much at the party. His brain is turning to mush. Dorian, why don’t you go and get yourself cleaned up and ready? We got everything covered out here. We need to be out of the house by 6:30 so you better put a move on it.”

         “Er, right.” Dorian replied as he rushed back to his bedroom even more confused than ever. Was he supposed to do something today? For the life of him, he just couldn’t remember.

         Once safe in his room, door locked of course, Dorian began to pace the floor as he tried to piece things together. They said he was at a party last night. But, no, that couldn’t be right. He would have remembered if he went out the night before. And why was his family in his home so early wearing tuxedos? Was he supposed to wear one? What were they for?

         Finding no answers within his own mind and refusing to ask anyone for help, Dorian dug into his closet and pulled out a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. “I don’t know what they have planned but they can do it without me. I want some coffee,” Dorian said to himself as he dressed. Not wanting to answer any questions about his sudden urgent need for java, he grabbed his wallet and cell phone and climbed out of his window. Thank God his apartment was on the first floor.

         It wasn’t long before Dorian found himself settled in a diner with a strong cup of coffee and a newspaper, enjoying the early morning stillness. That was until his cell phone started ringing.

         “Dorian!” his father yelled into the phone. “Where the hell are you!?”

         “I’m at the diner on the corner, Dad, I needed coff-”

         “I don’t care what you need! We're supposed to be meeting everyone at the church at seven o’clock for pictures. It’s almost ten minutes to! You're gonna be late!”

         Genuinely confused, Dorian asked, “Late for what? I don’t understand. What pictures? What church?”

         “You don’t understand? You’re getting married today!”

         “Married?!”

         Suddenly, a light bulb went off over Dorian's head.

         “Oh, that’s what I'm supposed to do today…”