It was at this point that I went to cuss myself out for having wrecked this suit when I was stopped in my tracks by the uncomfortable, rattling realisation that I didn’t exactly know who I was. My name seemed to dangle and drip on the tip of my tongue, but I just couldn’t reach it.

Turning around, I spotted bits of wood dug into the marshland, boxes and suitcases lying around. A shipwreck. My shipwreck? Perhaps there’d be some information hanging around here. I scrambled forth, grabbing what suitcases and bits and pieces I could.

Pulling out what I found to be a wallet, I saw a driver’s license. The picture was of a red fox. Never seen him before in my life. Well, to my memory at least. Rick Wallace was the name on it. Then, a passport, but this one was of a cheetah named Frank Wright. Still nothing that jogged my memory. Nothing at all.

I staggered to the water and looked in it. The reflection showed a red fox. It seemed I was Rick Wallace. Whoever he was. Or, in this case, whoever I am.

I gathered all I could find and tried to get my bearings. 

Home. 

Help. 

Shelter. 

These would be essential and I’m no survival specialist.

In the not too far distance, I could see civilization. I got to my feet and did one final check over of the wreckage just in case I’d missed something and started to stagger into town.

I made it to a street corner and stopped the first person I saw. They were a shopkeeper, a badger.

“Excuse me.” I said, my voice not sounding exactly as it had done in my head. “I’ve just been involved in a boating accident, I think someone may have been lost, can you help?”

The badger stared at me, somewhat dumbstruck, then nodded quickly.

“Oh yeah, yeah, sure Mr. Wallace, I’ve got a phone you can borrow.

He knew who I was? I didn’t have time to question it. Not yet. Making my way into his shop, I was gestured to the telephone.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“Boating accident. There’s someone lost at sea, I think I might be the only survivor.” I explained

“Whereabouts are you?”

Excellent question. I craned my neck to look around the shop. When I saw signs for Boston Massachusetts in the shop shelves, I went for that, before interrupting myself at the realisation there were signs for Alberta, Toronto, Los Angeles and Tampa Bay among others. It was all just trinkets and junk. Nothing here was going to be of any use.

“I… I’ll be honest, I don’t know where I am, or who I am. I just know my name is Rick Wallace and I think a guy called Frank Wright is dead.”

The voice on the other end went very silent. “Sir, where are you?”

“Wait there, I’ll see what I can do.” I said, putting the phone down and running out of the building.

I scanned the scene. I could see the badger now at the boat wreck, and I looked for anyone else.

A woman, an otter, walking up the road towards me, looking at me with apprehension.

“Excuse me, I’m sorry, but do you happen to know where we are?”

She paused. “This is Woodbridge, Virginia but I… I recognise you… aren’t you the guy from ‘The Big Pitch?’”

Soon, there were medics on the scene, investigators, all sorts. I was beginning to give accounts to people when a slimy guy in a suit arrived and started getting between me and the investigators.

He was a coyote, slender guy. Looked like the taste tester for KY Jelly.

“Hey man, I’m trying to help these people.” I protested.

He gave me a half-acknowledged nod, then continued to move between people and brushed me aside.

“Listen Rick, how many times do I gotta tell you, bad PR is bad PR, it’s bad enough you nearly died today, I got a lawyer on the phone at 4 and I don’t want any more papers throwing slag over this.” He said. “I got a limo on its way. You get in that and we forget about any of this, we got a show to film tomorrow, and I need you in top shape.”

Before I could object, I was whisked into a limousine.

The seat was comfy. Cold, black leather. Sat down, I could properly feel how badly I ached.

The driver was silent. The car moved quietly. I checked my pockets and pulled out Frank’s passport again. I tried to look deep into the eyes on the picture to see if I couldn’t find a way to pull anything about him out of my subconscious. I didn’t remember ever going to Virginia before, which wasn’t going to help me orient myself. My gut placed me as being from upstate New York, Utica, somewhere like that.

I was taken out of the car and escorted towards a large, rather old building, a rather ornate hotel. They escorted me inside, then led me up to my room. I offered no resistance as they outnumbered me far beyond what I could overcome. The door opened and I stepped inside. The door closed and there was a moment of calm.

I undressed out of the tattered suit. As I did, I spotted something I hadn’t previously noticed. In one of the more out-of-the-way suit jacket pockets, I found a photograph. It had me, stood next to another canine, seemingly a wolf with black fur, and we appeared to be playing golf. I figured they were probably a business associate of some kind. As well as this, I found a small silver-coloured ring. It’s got a pattern of flowers around it embossed into the metal.

There was a TV in the room. I turned it on and flicked onto a local news channel. If this was what I did for a living, I realised I’d better get to grips with what was happening.

It took a moment to warm up, but I was soon greeted with the news channel and a presenter discussing local weather. I sat on the bed in my briefs, since those were about all, other than my socks and my shoes, that was left intact.

I noticed a small ticker mentioning something about that TV show ‘The Big Pitch’ that people kept talking about. As I went to pick up one of the magazines in the room to try and research it, my attention was drawn back to the news channel.

“An update to a story from last week. Television host Rick Wallace has been located in Woodbridge Virginia following his disappearance from Long Island New York. It is suspected that he was kidnapped from a bar, though how he got to Woodbridge is still being ascertained.”

I looked between Frank’s passport and the magazine. Seemed like I had the smoking gun right in my lap. As much as I now had a solid idea who was behind all of this, what to do with the information, how to get it to the right people, would be difficult. That is, of course, if all this is as clear as it looks. Frank was on the boat, but I don’t know what role he played for sure. Looking through the magazine, I found a page on the TV show I seemed to host. Looked to be utterly awful. Some chat show with up-and-coming business slimeballs promoting their garbage. Solid daytime slot on some TV station though. I seem to have a limo and this hotel room so I must be doing something right. Would explain why I might have some enemies though.

I threw down the magazine and picked up Frank’s passport, looking over it. I started to look more carefully, to try and see if it was a forgery. Not that I was an expert of course but it seemed like an obvious thing to check before basing any onward plans off of it.

Suddenly, the phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Rick? Rick is that you?”

“Yes.” I said, not perfectly convinced it was true.

“Oh god it is you. Are you alright? What happened?”

“I washed up on a riverbank. Turns out I’m in Woodbridge, Virginia.” I said. It’s almost all I knew for sure.

“Alright, I’m on my way.” They said, before hanging up.

I gulped. Would have been wise to ask who that was first. I worried for a moment that I potentially shouldn’t have been handing out that kind of information so off-the-cuff, though I realised this stuff is all over the news, if someone was digging for info, they’d’ve dug deeper than that.

I looked at the pictures I had to try and work out who that might have been, not that they gave me any clues. What I did know is that sitting here in my briefs was probably a bad move. I got dressed, seemingly another very fancy suit that had been provided. Pinstriped. Classy.

When the voice on the phone said they were going to be on their way, they were here quicker than I’d thought. Through the door entered the black wolf from the photograph.

“Oh Rick, I’m so glad they found you!” He said. He staggered towards me, then paused. He stepped back and quietly locked the door.

Something felt wrong, or… didn’t quite add up. They continued failing to add up as he wrapped his arms around me and stared deeply into my eyes. Just as things clicked, he put his lips to mine and kissed me.

This was… this was odd, very odd. Assuming this must be normal for Rick, I did my best to return the kiss. It must have been clear that I was caught somewhat unawares, and I could feel him hesitating a tad. As he pulled away to look at me, he definitely looked troubled.

“Are you okay Rick? You must be pretty banged up.” He asked.

I never fancied myself much as a heartbreaker.

Taking a deep breath, I told him the truth.

I could hear his heart buckling as the words left my mouth.

He deflated, eyes weaving around the room, paws on my shoulders. “You don’t remember me? We’ve been… an item since ‘72” He whispered.

I furrowed my brow. “What year is it now?” I asked.

He buried his head in my shoulder and started to weep.

We collected a glass of water each and sat down, me on the edge of the bed, him on a chair.

“Okay, so, it’s 1981, your name is Rick Wallace. You’re from New York- “

“Yeah, I thought so.” I interrupted.

He looked puzzled but nodded. “Alright, and you’re the host of the TV show, ‘The Big Pitch’, on NBC, out of New York city.”

“That all adds up, I’ve seen the TV reports.”

“Alright, okay, so then about a week ago, you were asked to go on a promotional trip around Long Island. You hadn’t told me in too much detail why. Just that it was business.” The wolf explained, though at this point, he paused and gulped. “You left on that boat and… disappeared. Until now.”

I nodded. “I came-to on the bank of the Potomac, boat in pieces, suit shredded. I don’t remember anything in my life up until that point.”

The wolf nodded. “I’m Perry Campbell, does that name ring a bell?”

I shook my head. “Nothing at all I’m afraid.”

He grumbled and leaned back on the chair. “Alright… do you remember anything from the trip?”

I shook my head. “I don’t remember anything… but I do have something…” I began.

The wolf leaned forward expectantly, but I paused.

What if Perry here was a stooge? I reached for the photograph again, looking between the picture and Perry. They seemed to match.

“How do I know you’re not… y’know… one of the people who tried to kidnap me?” I asked.

He seemed troubled by needing to prove himself, but nodded. He reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a ring. “Even if you don’t remember me, you should recognise this.” He said. It was a small silver ring with flowers embossed into it.

“Yes,” I said, scrambling to the tatty suit jacket and pulling the ring I had from that pocket. “I have one of those too.” I said, showing it to him.

The wolf nodded. “I gave you that in 1978. New Year’s Eve. We walked across Brooklyn Bridge together and at the park on the east side I gave you that ring.” He explained.

I nodded. I didn’t remember. But I trusted him now. “Alright. I believe you.” I said. I slipped the ring on and he gulped. 

“We… never wore them publicly… because… y’know…”

I nodded. Ah yes. Some things, not even a boat crash would let you forget.

Putting the ring back, I pull out the passport. “I recovered this from the boat wreck.” I said, handing it to Perry. “Do you know who Frank Wright might be?”

The wolf looked over the passport, then nodded. “Yeah, he’s someone else in the media circuit.” Perry explained. “But nobody’s reported him missing, not that I know of.”

“You got his phone number?”

“Not exactly. We’re… not on those kinds of terms.”

“Am I?”

Perry pondered. “I think you might be?” The wolf offered. “But having his passport is bad news regardless. Either he’s dead or someone stole it as ID.”

Before I could reply, the door was thrown open and the coyote from earlier burst in.

“Alright, you, out.” He ordered, pointing at Perry.

The wolf moved to object, but stopped himself, instead standing up politely and leaving the room.

Now with me and the coyote alone, he looked back to me. “I thought I told you to avoid guests? You just survived a kidnapping, remember?”

He made a good point. Not that he’d actually told me this, of course.

“We’ve got to get you back up to New York. I’ve got a private plane booked from Manassas Airport. “We’ll get you into the warmth and comfort of your own home in time for dinner.” He said with a smile.

“A private plane?” I queried, standing up and gathering my things. My heart jumped when I realised Perry still had Frank’s passport.

“Sir, you have survived one assassination attempt this week, I’d rather not make it two.” He explained.

In no position to complain, I nodded. “Alright, let’s go.” I said.

“Gather your things quickly, I’ll be back in 10 minutes.” He said, leaving the room.

I collected what I had, though ideally having something small I could stuff the shards of old suit into would be useful. This was a swanky hotel though, so I reckoned someone could probably help me.

“Hello, is that room service? Yes, could I have a bag?”

Before long, an attendant appeared with a very large rolling bag. Cloth, and far too big for what I had in mind.

“This is the only bag we have I’m afraid.” The attendant explained. I can see that he’s lying, there’s a panic in his eyes.

I pick up the bag by the handle. It’s heavy, there’s definitely something already in here. Eying the attendant, I squatted down and opened the bag, peering inside.

Grinning, I zipped up the bag and stood up again.

“Magnificent, thank you so much.” I said, standing up and shaking the increasingly unsettled attendant’s paw. He nods and makes his way briskly back to his other duties.

Within 15 minutes, we’re on the tarmac at Manassas airport. The coyote leads me towards a Cessna Citation, and he gestures me aboard.

“Souvenirs?” The coyote asks.

“Yeah, I mean… you don’t get kidnapped every day, do you?” I said with a grin.

He smiles back. “Oh, I do hope not.”

I take a few steps up onto the ramp and slide the case in behind one of the seat rows, then turn back. “Aren’t you coming along?” I asked. “It’ll save you a few hours you know.” I grinned.

The coyote gave a wave of the arm. “It’s fine, you deserve a little more space.”

“I’d rather you were with me.” I said. “If someone tries to kill me again, I’d like to have my best man by my side.”

The coyote relents and follows me on board.

I sit in the back row of the plane. My heart pounds as we move to take off.

I reach back to the case and unzip the lid slowly. I take off my blazer and leave it draped over the top.

The coyote is sat up near the front, along with an associate of his, a muscular crocodile wrapped in a cheap suit.

“Hey Rick, I guess you were right.” The coyote said. “It sure is nice to go flying with friends, don’t you think?”

“Yes.” I reply curtly. “Very nice.”

“How about something to drink?” He said, holding a glass out for me.

“No thanks.” I reply again, equally cold. “I’m not in the mood to drink.”

The coyote takes pause, then shrugs and nods, putting the glass down somewhere.

I chuckle. Gallows humour perhaps.

“So,” I began. “What’s the plan once we touch down in New York?”

The coyote sighed. “That’s a little complicated.” He began.

“Oh, is it?” I reply, eyebrow raised. I watch him turning away from me a tad.

“Yes, you see… not all of us are going to make it to New York.”

He turned to me again, gun in hand.

“Ah yes, I almost didn’t see this coming.” I muttered. “Almost.”

“That’s cute Rick. You always failed to take me seriously.” He said, standing up and holding the gun level with my chest. I stood to face him. His face pulsed with anger. I knew he wasn’t going to shoot me yet; I could just feel it in my bones. He wanted satisfaction; he’d come so far for it.

“You always acted like you were better than me. Treated me like the dirt you walked on. Every time you saw me you just barked another order at me. “Book me this”, “Take me there”, “Liaise with him”, “Make a deal with her”. I bet you don’t even remember my name.” He snarled. “Do you?!”

“I don’t.” I admitted. “But that’s your fault. Maybe I’d remember if you hadn’t tried to run me aground.” I replied.

He pulses with anger again, I realised I was pushing too hard. I stepped back in the seating aisle to draw him into the centre corridor.

“Jack Walker.” The coyote said. “It’ll be the last name you hear, so maybe you’ll remember it this time.”

“Listen,” I said. “We don’t have to do this. I can change. You won’t get away with it anyway.”

“Won’t I?” Jack said, grinning ear to ear. “I have a fall guy right in place.”

“Frank Wright.” I replied.

The tone shifted abruptly. His grip of the gun weakened, and he shuddered anxiously. “How did you-” He began, but was cut off by a gunshot to his shoulder.

Perry stepped forward; his gun pointed squarely at the coyote. “I don’t think so. The game’s up.”

Jack clutched his bleeding arm, gun now in his off hand so he could cover his wound with his dominant paw. “Is it? Is it now?”

Thwack!

Perry crumpled to the floor, hit to the head from behind by a familiar-looking cheetah. I didn’t need to have the passport on me to check, it was definitely Frank.

“Forgetful, aren’t we?” The coyote laughed. “I hope you didn’t put much effort into uncovering Frank’s role, because it’s not going to do you any good.”

Frank took Perry’s gun and now both were pointed squarely at me. The coyote to my left, and Frank stood on his right.

“This isn’t how I wanted it to go Rick, believe me.” Jack grinned

“Bullshit!” I barked, cowering between the seats.

Now I was outgunned at least 3 to one. The coyote’s associate had stepped forward too.

Perry, the only man I felt I could trust, the only guy who it seemed had any idea what was happening and the man who loved me was out cold on the floor.

“I’d say “It’s been an honour, Rick.”, but I’m not a liar. Not everyone here can say the same.” Jack smiled. “I may get caught, but sometimes things are worth the price of admission. Goodbye Rick.”

He looked over to Frank. “You first, I want the last shot.”

“Gladly.” The cheetah said.

He raised his gun for my head.

I gulped.

Frank’s arm smoothly, like it was pneumatic, slid from aiming at my head to the coyote’s shoulder in a single perfect motion.

Gunshot.

Jack screamed like a banshee and crumpled to the floor.

Perry jumped back up to his feet.

I grabbed the coyote’s gun from his wailing body and pointed it at the crocodile.

Click.

Empty.

Realising I was as useful as a spare prick at a wedding, I dove to the floor and cowered.

Frank stepped towards the remaining adversary. “Don’t make a mistake you’ll regret.” He warned

“I got promised a lot of cash to make this happen. ‘Nuff to get me outta the red” The crocodile replied, though he was shaky.

“Cheques bounce. Bullets don’t.” The cheetah replied, aiming square at the lizard’s temple and slowly closing the distance between them.

The crocodile hesitated, assessed his options, before he nodded and stood down.

Frank kept his gun trained on the accomplice and Perry made his way to the cockpit, ordering the flight crew to commit to the landing.

“W-why? How?” Jack panted.

“I knew I was going to be next.” Frank explained. “Perry told me, he showed me my passport you stole from me. You planted it in the boat Rick was kidnapped on, so it’d look like I did it. Then when you went for me next, it’d look like a tragic miscarriage of justice that you could report on.”.

The coyote tried to get to his feet but could only whimper and wail helplessly on the floor. “We kept an empty gun back, just for you.” The cheetah added.

Drunk on adrenalin, I sat back down in the chair. I kept my eyes fixed squarely upon the coyote writhing around in agony on the floor.

An hour took a long time to pass, but finally, we touched down at Newark Liberty Airport. Jack was taken off the plane first, arrested and taken to hospital. I was escorted back home along with Perry and Frank.

Home was a rather nice spot. Luckily, Perry knew where it was and fed me the directions to give to the driver. North of Huntingdon on Long Island. We sat down, had some drinks and compared notes.

“Alright, so… can someone tell me what on earth happened?” I asked, putting down my glass. “Because I still don’t completely get it.”

Frank nodded. “So, Jack wanted your job. To get that, he needed you out of the picture, and he needed me to be unable to replace you.” The cheetah explained, lighting a cigarette. “So, he stole my passport and planted it on some guy on the boat that you crashed on. They find your body, your driver’s license and my passport. Other guy disappears, all fingers point to me.” He said.

“But I didn’t die.” I interrupted.

“Yeah, so then Jack’s game plan changed, he had to get you away from everyone else so he could try another way to get rid of you. Blaming me for it doesn’t work if you’re there aware of what happened.”

“If he’d have worked out that you lost your memories, that’dve made it much easier for him, he could just implant a new story into your head.” Perry added. “He wanted me out of the hotel room so I couldn’t put any of the pieces together. Once I had Frank’s passport though, I knew he was next. Not that I could tell you that,  just in case you blurted it to Jack, because you don’t remember me.”

The cheetah nodded. “Perry runs and calls me, I decide to play possum for Jack. He needed a new way to kill you and I just told him I had a grudge like he did. He bought it ‘cause he was desperate and off-plan. Figures he can kill us both in one go. Perry smuggles his way on the plane with you as extra backup.”

“You did bring Jack on the plane too, which, to be honest, wasn’t what we had in mind.” Perry added.

“Yeah, we were just going to jump out and overrun the pilots into not crashing the plane but uhh… hey, at least we’re all in one piece.” The cheetah smirked, holding up his glass for a toast.

Once Frank had excused himself for the evening, I settled down to spend the evening with Perry.

“So, what happens now?” I asked.

He took a sigh. “Well… I don’t know really. With your memories gone I’m not sure what we’ll do.”

I nodded. “You saved my life in that plane, you know that?”

He chuckled and rubbed his head. “Well, me and Frank did.”

“You were the one who told Frank what was going on, gave him the passport and came up with the plan.” I insisted, my paws finding his shoulders. His soon found mine.

I looked into his eyes and he looked back at mine. Something inside me seemed to sparkle. Some little recollection of the past inside me.

I placed my lips against his and kissed him for a while.

“I love you either way, memories or not.” I whispered. I reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his silver ring. I eased it onto his finger and gave him a smirk. “How about you help jog my memory a little, handsome?”

“It’d be my pleasure to~” Perry grinned, taking me by the arm and leading me off to the bedroom.