The Life and Times of Johnny Plotpoint

"Probably still in perfect condition." The man unfolded the booklet he had been holding. It was a pulp science-fiction magazine-Astounding Science Fiction, August, 1953. It was beat up almost beyond recognition, but Johnny could still see the figure of the giant man - Sam Hall - on the front cover and the three smaller people in the foreground, terrified. "You still have yours, don't you?" the man asked. Johnny put his copy on the table.

"Lane Edwards," Johnny said. "You sold this to me a ways back up the road." Johnny looked at him again. "But you're so old."

"You're only as old as you feel, Johnny." He paused and smiled again. "Did you know you never told me your name?"

"I never tell anybody my name. They don't care." Johnny stopped for a moment, staring at Lane. "How did you know it?"

"It's sort of a long story. Let me ask you something. What's your last name, Johnny?" The man pulled his computer over to him and flipped open the top. His fingers were moving quickly behind the screen, and Johnny couldn't see exactly what he was doing.

"I don't know." Johnny had never thought about it. Everyone else had a last name, he had simply assumed that he did too, but he never thought to wonder what it was.

"Think hard, Johnny." Lane didn't look up. His fingers were still tapping behind the screen.

Johnny was frustrated. His mind whirled. His last name. He should know this, shouldn't he? Everyone else seemed to know their last names. He thought back through all the stops he had made along the road. He had met hundreds of people. He tried to recall their conversations, but couldn't remember much.

"Why are you asking me all these questions? I don't know."

"Don't you find that strange?"

"Should I?"

"You tell me, Johnny. Isn't it strange? Doesn't it feel funny when you don't just know something like that? It should just pop into your head, shouldn't it? Like everything else." Lane looked up from his computer and directly into Johnny's eyes. "How do you like your eggs cooked, Johnny?" He tapped on his computer.

Johnny looked down at his plate. "Scrambled," he heard himself say. The eggs on his plate oozed yolk.

"No wonder you're not eating your eggs." Lane laughed. Johnny just stared blankly at his eggs.

"What's happening to me?" he said, looking directly at Lane. Lane tapped slowly on his keyboard, deliberately stressing each keystroke.

"What's your last name, Johnny?" he said, finally.

"Reynolds," Johnny said.

"How do you know that?"

"I don't know."

Lane turned his computer around and showed the screen to Johnny. It said "Reynolds" in bold type. "You never had a last name until now. I just gave it to you."

"So I'm just a part of your imagination?" Johnny asked, staring at the screen.