Chapter 4a
The question at the bottom of the page has been answered with a shaky circle, presumably drawn by Erwin Packard. This is the last entry in the journal, however, and there is no real indication that Packard did this himself nor any way to decipher when the decision had been made, whether twenty minutes later or twenty years later.
We asked his wife if she thought Erwin Packard was insane and her response was a resounding, "Yes! Yes! He's fucking crazy! You're all fucking crazy!"
Although the story of Mr. Packard seems to end abruptly there it is also possible that it never ended at all. Why would Packard simply disappear? Where could he have gone? We sought the answers diligently but could surmise no definitive answer, only theories.
The most probable theory is that, at some point after circling his answer, Erwin Packard decided to move West. No place in particular, just West. He likely wanted to move away from everything and everyone he had known and perhaps did this is as stealthily as could be managed for the task at hand.
We talked to his mother about the disappearance. She said to us, "Is this real? You're not filming a movie, are you?" She seemed confused about the incident, as if unsure what to make of it.
The interviewer said, "There's no record of Erwin Packard after 1994. Do you have any information that might help to locate him or offer any insight as to where he might have gone?"
There is a long pause here while Packard's mother stares with mouth agape, pondering all the possibilities that she had tragically pushed from her conscious mind. Finally she said, "Look, I'm just an actor, this is starting to get a little too serious. Are you with the police?"
Her words touched us all. To have been so drastically impacted by the loss of one person to see yourself as only an actor. All of us knew at that moment we had to learn the truth. Our interviews had not panned out. The journal was empty from that point forward. The only other shred of evidence we had was one crudely jotted memo that appeared to be a suicide note.
This world is hard and doesn't pull its punches. If you're reading this then I'm gone. I have left in favor of a better place. I have left all of my nothings behind to deal with as you see fit. I know somewhere I have another life waiting for me, something more kind and calm. From here on I'll be looking for that. Please don't look for me. Erwin Packard is dead. If you have any respect for the dead, you will let him stay that way. I depart now to a better place. Thank you for your role in my life but that life ends now.
The letter was short and cut to the point but we decided to run with what little information we had. We didn't find a single nothing at Packard's former home, only a lot of somethings which didn't seem to pertain to the nothings mentioned in the letter. All of our best efforts have turned up nothing.
The fight is finally over and we have lost. Nearing the end, we grasped at every string, but for every string we pulled the mass of evidence only seemed to unravel. The history books, should they choose to document Erwin Packard at all, will document his life and disappearance as a true enigma.
Enigma (n.) A fucking mystery that no history book, story teller or scribe will reproduce because nobody knows what it is.
Perhaps one day the question will be answered but for now we can only continue to ask it over again to the darkness and silence, whatever that question may be.
