And then he is showing me holographic video of him being child of war and shooting and killing and being small small but pointing gun and killing, then there is explosion, and then he is showing me other holographic video of him being in what is looking like hospital. And I am knowing it is hospital because I am seeing place like it in other rememberings, and there is no blood but there is being nothing but air where his legs are being. And we are turning in the remembering to see the doctor’s face and the doctor is saying things, but I am thinking that there is so much pain in the remembering that the person is not being able to hear the doctor’s words. Then I am seeing other holographic video where Uzodinma is holding himself up on two metal bars and he is looking down and his legs are metal and there is no skin on them, they are just gears and pistons and rods, and they are moving slow slow and Uzo is gritting his teeth and moaning and sweating much, then nurse is coming to hold him up before he falls to floor. Uzodinma is fast-forwarding through other memories. He is receiving new arm and he is returning to one room over and over again and he is being put into chair, and we are both feeling cord plugging into outlet at the base of our neck and then there is darkness until he is waking up.

“I don’t know what happens to me when they put me in that chair,” Uzodinma is telling me. “There is only darkness. I don’t know if I’m dreaming or if I am dying and coming back to life. But I am needing to know what is happening in that time, because that’s the secret to who I am.” He is looking at his hands and the different color skin all over them. “What I am.”

“Is that where we’re walking to?”

Uzodinma nods.

“What about the others? Do they want to go to different places?”

Uzo is looking up at the sky where it is showing between the tree leaves, and I am looking up with him and thinking that maybe he is seeing in the sky the same thing that is being inside his head. “Some of them might. But some of them want to know what they are, just like me. If I can find an answer, maybe they can as well.” Then he is looking at me. “We are the same,” he is telling me. “We are sharing mystery.”