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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Mystery · #1029395
A short story about identity.
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Tuesday 8:20 Am.
Driving to work through the rain, stuck behind a white van doing forty five on a main road. “Edwin Chaseley” is written in the dirt on the back of the van. That’s my name! Who the hell wrote that? I check out the livery on the van. T.M. Wilson, Electrical Contractors, Hull. Never heard of them, never even been to Hull.

Tuesday 6:30 Pm.

The phone rings, I’m cooking.
I answer “Hello?”

“Mr Broom?” It’s a man’s voice

“No. There’s no one called Broom here.” I say.

“Who am I talking to?” he sounds a bit annoyed.

“I think you’ve got a wrong number”.

“I don’t think so, Mr Broom. Do you know who this is?” There’s a note of threat in there somewhere.

“Look I’m not Mr Broom. You’ve dialled the wrong number. Goodbye.” I’ve had enough. As I’m putting the phone back on its cradle I hear;

“Mr Broom, This is Edwin Chaseley please...” Click. The call is terminated.

He said my name! Didn’t he? Didn’t he say “This is Edwin Chaseley?”

I tap in the numbers “The caller withheld their number”. Shit!


Tuesday 8:15 Pm
Watching a documentary about Victorian Architecture on T.V. dozing a bit; it’s been a long day. The Oxbridge narration drones on:

“…magnificent edifice features all the characteristic neo-gothic embellishments of earlier work by his great rival Edwin Chaseley.”

Suddenly I’m wide awake. Edwin Chaseley? My name again! I watch the rest of the program intently but it ends shortly without mention of the rival.

How common is my name? I thought I was the only Edwin Chaseley; obviously not. Curious, I turn on my PC. Type my name into Google. One result for “Edwin Chaseley” obviously it’s not a common name. Click on the link. A white web page appears. It is completely blank except for small black, centred text which reads;

Hide!


Wednesday
I woke up at five thirty a.m. in a sweating panic. I’d dreamed I was in a courtroom. Court officials were asking me to confirm my name but the name they gave was not mine. I knew it wasn’t, but I couldn’t remember what my real name was.

Then I remembered that webpage. Hide? Did that mean me? Hide from what? None of it made sense. I’m not the sort of person who has to hide. I’m ordinary. I get through life quietly without upsetting people. True, I don’t have a lot of friends but then I don’t have any enemies as far as I know. I sat on the bed thinking. I’m Edwin Chaseley, I’m a nobody. I work in a shoe shop for god’s sake!

The anxiety had subsided somewhat by the time I’d showered and had breakfast. I sat at the kitchen table smoking a cigarette and watching the portable television. The sports news came on. I flipped the remote. Adverts for shampoo, a woman talking about parenting, an aerial view of a factory, more adverts, a close up of a war memorial, more adverts. Wait! That was my name on the memorial! I flipped back. A middle aged woman was presenting a magazine program. Did I just imagine that? “Edwin Chaseley” chiselled into the black marble. The anxiety flooded back. I can’t handle this! Thank god I don’t have to go to work today. I decided I needed to see Ruth. My sister Ruth, she makes me feel sane. More than anyone, she knows how normal I am. I’d talk to Ruth; she’d laugh at me for being silly and make me laugh at myself.

Just round the corner from Ruth’s flat is a tyre fitting place, a big building with a billboard on the side. Last time it was advertising a phone network. Today it just said “Edwin Chaseley” In six foot letters. I couldn’t believe it. I braked so hard a fiat ran into the back of me. A woman got out of the fiat she took one look at me, got back into her car and drove off like she recognised me and was afraid. I ran back up the road to where I could see the Billboard. It was red, with my name in big white letters. A woman was walking up the street pulling one of those trolley bags.

“Excuse me. Sorry to bother you. I know this sounds silly but could you tell me what it says up there?” I panted, pointing to the billboard.

“Edmond Castles” she said “That’s the Ford garage on outer circle road.”

I must have looked puzzled. After a moment she said. “It’s down to the roundabout, turn left and it’s about a quarter mile along on your right opposite Martins, that’s the printing place with the blue and yellow sign.”

She smiled sympathetically at me and continued on her way. I stood staring at the sign. It couldn’t have been clearer. It read “Edwin Chaseley”. I needed to see Ruth.

I walked toward her flat past a parade of shops, a newsagent, a curtain shop, and an electrical goods outlet. Just for a second, out of the corner of my eye, the array of widescreen televisions in the shop displayed an image of me walking down a street.

I ran up the steps to Ruth’s door and knocked hard. She took at least a minute to answer. She was still in her dressing gown. A look of deep concern came over her face as soon as she saw me.

“My god, Michael what’s the matter? Well come in, come in. You look awful. What’s happened?”

“What did you call me?” I said in surprise.

She looked puzzled. “Michael” she said.

“Why did you call me that?” I asked bluntly.

She laughed for a second then stopped laughing when she saw I was being serious.

“Are you feeling ok? Come on in have a sit down and a cuppa.” She grabbed my arm and pulled me into the narrow hallway. After shutting the front door she guided me into the kitchen. A man was sitting in his vest with his elbows on the table. I didn’t know him.

“Edwin this is my brother Mike” she said to the man.

The man stretched out his hand for me to shake and smiled. “Hi Mike,” he said. “I’m Ed Chaseley; I’m a friend of Ruth’s from work”

“I’m Edwin Chaseley” I said weakly, not thinking to shake his hand.

The man looked surprised then gave an uncertain laugh. “Ok then, you’re Edwin Chaseley,” he said and rested his outstretched hand back on the table before shooting a “what’s with him” look to Ruth. She gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head and a wide eyed meaningful look back. Though I couldn’t tell what the meaning was.

She put her hand on my shoulder. “Have you been taking your medicine?” she asked in a concerned way.

What was she talking about? I was getting annoyed, “I don’t take medicine! What medicine?” I demanded.

“Ok, ok,” she backed off; “tell me why you’ve come.”

I gave the man a suspicious look. He noticed and stood up. “I’ll be in the other room if you need me,” he said to Ruth.

When he’d gone I grabbed Ruth’s arm. “What’s going on?” I asked her. “Who’s he?”

“He’s just a friend from work,” she said. “Listen when you came in you said your name was Edward Creasly? Why did you say that?”

“Not Edward Creasly! Jesus Ruth. I didn’t say that. I said Edwin Chaseley for God’s sake. It’s written right there on the fridge!” I pointed at the plastic letters that were magnetised to the refrigerator door. They were misaligned and a little jumbled but they spelled out my name clearly enough.

Ruth looked at the letters. “They don’t spell anything,” she said, “They are just random letters. Who is Edwin Chaseley anyway?”

“Ask your boyfriend,” I snapped, “he seems to think that’s his name.”


Ruth looked at me without saying anything. Then she closed her eyes and sighed. “I want you to talk to someone,” she said, “someone who can help you. Just wait here, it’ll be fine, I just need to make a call.” She started to leave the kitchen; I didn’t want her to go. I couldn’t be on my own. I grabbed her arm. She suddenly looked scared. She’s never been scared of me before. She tried to pull away. I didn’t want her to be frightened but I couldn’t let her go till she had calmed down. I was scared she would run away. Then she got really panicky and started shouting. “Let go! Let me go!”

The man ran in from the other room I remember seeing his big fist coming at my face. I never saw Ruth again.

Now I live here. I’m not allowed to leave. Sometimes I wonder how the shoe shop is doing without me. I think about that web page that told me to hide and wonder if they’d have caught me if I had hidden. The doctors and nurses call me Michael and tell me lies. They say I was an important man, a famous man and that it made me ill, but really I’m a nobody and my name is Edwin Chaseley.
© Copyright 2005 Lee L Strauss (maroza at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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