Knowing LOST

This is the first episode of a three-episode ‘arc.’

—-

A ray of sunlight on his face.

He opened his eyes to a brand new world that was beautiful. He was lying on his back in the middle of a well-manicured lawn, staring up at a cloud that was eclipsing the sun. Beams of bright light were escaping around the edges, and a calm ray was sprawled across his cheeks. A breeze ruffled his hair.

He knew the yard the minute he felt the grass under his bare feet as he stood up. The tangled blades fit into the angles of his feet like a pattern, and he smiled. Home. He was home, finally.

When he blinked, he opened his eyes to find that the sky was a brilliant shade of violet.

Strangely enough, that didn’t unsettle him. It should have, he supposed, but he simply observed the sky with a mere curiosity that was far from full-fledged fear. The sky wasn’t menacing; he’d seem something like it before.

He blinked again and found himself standing in the middle of a crowded city street. People stepped around him, quickly, forming a loose circle around him amidst the bustle. Still, no one seemed to notice him. No one really looked at him. In fact, the people walking didn’t seem to have faces. They were just blurred figures, as if in a memory.

Then he saw him.

He was hard to miss, the Christlike figure stepping through the crowd. He seemed to radiate with a white glow that made shone in Kevin’s vision like… Hell, like the cinematography in Star Trek. He had lens flares in his eyes.

Jacob was wearing his usual attire has he approached Kevin across the sidewalk, and Kevin noticed that Jacob’s feet were bare, like his own. In fact, the two were dressed rather similarly.

“Kevin,” Jacob spoke as he approached, and Kevin marveled that someone as powerful as Jacob knew his name. Knew that he existed. That Jacob was even real was a mystery that didn’t even cross his mind. He accepted it as reality. He just knew.

“Jacob,” he breathed, and Jacob nodded affirmatively, frowning.

“I’m sorry for bringing you here like this, Kevin,” he said.

Kevin stared at him for a moment, his mouth going dry. “Like what?” he asked slowly.

Jacob regarded him sadly for a moment, then gestured to a nearby doorway to his left and Kevin’s right, a pathway for which had mysteriously just been cleared. The words “Joe Chip Cafe” were stenciled onto the glass of the door in curving white letters. Open 8 a.m. to 4 p.m.

He nodded, and Jacob opened the door to the cafe, ushering him inside.

The place was dimly lit aside from the sun streaming in through the open windows, and Kevin was taken aback by how rustic the cafe was on the inside. There was hardly a bit of modern furniture inside; the only splashes of color came from the blue checkered tablecloths that were draped over each table. Without speaking to anyone, Jacob sat down at a nearby table, gesturing for Kevin to sit down across from him.

A faceless waitress came and handed them menus.

“This… this is going to be difficult for you to understand, Kevin,” Jacob began, pointing to an item on the menu and showing it to the waitress. She nodded, scribbling something down in her pad.

Kevin didn’t pick up the menu, instead waving the waitress away when she turned to him. Almost understandingly, she walked away.

“Try,” said Kevin, so succinctly that it could have been considered rude. Jacob nodded, looking down at the checkerboard tablecloth.

“You’re dead, Kevin,” he said finally.

Kevin stared at him blankly. The waitress returned to the table, holding a glass of water, which she placed in front of Jacob. Kevin watched her leave the table once again.

“No, I’m not,” he said, looking back to Jacob. “If I was dead, this would be nothing.”

Jacob frowned. “I’m sorry?”

“I wouldn’t exist if I was dead,” Kevin said simply. “This isn’t death.”

Jacob leaned back in his chair, taking a sip of water from the perspiring glass. “That’s interesting, Kevin,” he said. “That you still think that. I mean, after waking up on the Island, I would have thought you would have completely changed your philosophy regarding any idea of the afterlife.”

“Old habits die hard,” Kevin said finally.

Jacob nodded. “Alright,” he said. “Fair enough. You’re not dead.”

Kevin smiled.

“You’re not alive either, though,” Jacob finished, putting the water down on the table with a clink. Some water splashed over the sides and pooled on the tablecloth.

Kevin’s smile immediately faded, and he could feel the muscles in his leg tense. “I’m done playing games, Jacob,” he said finally, pushing his chair back. “Why are you here? Why am I here?”

Jacob regarded him as the waitress again approached the table, bringing him a neat bowl of bright green salad. “You’re here, Kevin,” he said slowly. “And I’m here, so that I can help you separate reality from fiction.”