TRANSCRIPT FROM THE HUMAN MEMORY CRUSADE.
JULY 7, 2010

PLEASE ENJOY THIS SHORT VIDEO WHILE I FIND YOUR FILE.

I HAVE FOUND YOUR FILE. WOULD YOU LIKE TO CONTINUE WITH YOUR STORY?

I’m trying to. I’m determined. I wrote myself some notes. Please hold on a minute while I look at my notes.

YOU HAVEN’T SAID ANYTHING FOR A MINUTE. ARE YOU STILL THERE?

Remember, I told you about the envelope, and how it had some clue about the library?

WOULD YOU LIKE TO CONTINUE?

The Denver library had these majestic steps, like a Roman cathedral. Or, Greek, maybe. Columns. I went up the steps to the second floor. That’s where I went—to the second floor of the library, where they kept the fiction. Please, just let me talk. No more bugs and messages. I always loved books, and I loved Alice’s Adventures. If you want to know the truth, I felt like a spy standing there. I was so frightened because I knew that I was not supposed to look inside the envelope. And I didn’t know who might be following or watching me. I remember this one feeling so clearly: I was kind of hoping that the handsome man with the work boots might be watching. I wanted him to know that I had courage, and that I was no one’s patsy. Do you use that word? Please, Please! Stop with the butterflies.

ARE YOU STILL THERE?

I’m feeling clearheaded right now, and I . . . I looked all around me. I was telling you about the library. I . . . I went to the C section of the library because I assumed that the book would be listed under the last name Carroll. Lewis Carroll. And I was right. There were two copies of Alice—both of them in hardback, I remember. I pulled one of the copies of the book from the shelf. I held my breath, kind of, and then I opened the copy of the book to the secret page number I’d found in the envelope. And I discovered there was nothing on that page. It was just the regular words of the story. I looked around the nearby pages, and I didn’t see anything. So then I pulled out the second copy of the book, and I turned to the special page, and there was nothing there either. No special instructions, or mysterious calligraphy, or whatever I imagined I might find. I felt so angry, and frustrated, and I stood there feeling betrayed, and silly. I . . .

ARE YOU STILL THERE?

I feel embarrassed by the way that made me feel. If you want to know the truth. And I looked through both copies of the book again, and I didn’t see anything. Then I remembered something about Alice in Wonderland. The real name of the author wasn’t Carroll. It was Charles Dodgson. I . . . I went to the D section to find a book written by Charles Dodgson. And you wouldn’t believe it! Nestled in the spot where you’d find a book by Charles Dodgson was another copy of Alice in Wonderland. It was written by Lewis Carroll, but it had been shelved incorrectly. Or, obviously, it had been deliberately shelved incorrectly. I knew I’d found what I was looking for. So I opened the book. I opened it to page 45—that’s right, it was on page 45. I remember now!—and I found what I was looking for. Oh, yes, I most certainly did. I found what was waiting for me.

YOU HAVEN’T SPOKEN FOR A MINUTE. ARE YOU STILL THERE?

I’m crying. I’m sorry. It was so profound. Do you know that word? Existential, maybe. I don’t know what that word means anymore, and I’m not sure I ever totally did. Like “ironic.” I probably used the word incorrectly a lot of times in my life. Well, anyway, I opened the book, and I saw what it said. May I tell you?

I THINK YOU ARE ASKING ME A QUESTION. WOULD YOU REPEAT THE QUESTION?

There was a typed note. It said . . . Wait . . . I still have it. Let me read it to you. It said . . .

ARE YOU STILL THERE?

I’m making sure we’re alone. It said: “Congratulations, Lane Idle. You have a great mind, and an adventurous heart. Meet me at Elitch Gardens, Friday at 5. Come alone. The future depends on it.”

YOU HAVEN’T SAID ANYTHING IN A MINUTE. ARE YOU STILL THERE?

You’re not reacting. You’re not . . . you’re not amazed by this? I guess you wouldn’t be. You’re a . . . please stop with the butterflies and the orchestra sounds. They’re very distracting.