Searching for the Best Story I Ever Heard

The adventure behind my username

The dimmed lights lightly illuminated her face. We sat on my top bunk, supposed to be asleep. Of course, we were too excited to feel tired. Her words sent shivers up my spine. I didn’t take my eyes off her face. It shone brighter now, lit up with that look people have when they talk about their passion. She was a few years older than me, but she wore her dark hair in pigtails to look younger. We could have passed for the same age. I sat for hours with this new friend, all-consumed by the best story I had ever heard. Completely immersed in this terrifying world, I remember involuntarily holding my breath in suspense at the thrilling climax.

Although she was a skilled, young writer, she had not written this story. Her friend, who I never met, read a novel and told her the plot in great detail, similar to how she shared it with me. To this day, it is the best story I ever heard. I needed to find this book. She told me it was called “Mistress of Manfraiya,” but her friend couldn’t remember for certain.

She returned home. We both searched for the book. One would call the other regularly to share progress and defeat. I tried every spelling option possible for “Manfraiya” in libraries and online.

I was obsessed. When I created my first online profile and faced the decision of what name would identify me online, I didn’t hesitate.

M-A-N-F-R-A-I-Y-A

I typed the word, my word, and wondered if it would be free. My friends all needed to add numbers and underscores to their usernames and e-mail addressed, but I didn’t; it was available. Years passed. My search became less hopeful. Any yet, my username was always available for my online accounts because it meant nothing to anyone and everything to me. It is the possibility of a great story. Maybe, in ten years, they won’t remember the words or the title, but they will remember how you made them feel.

A breakthrough came in our search. She phoned with an announcement.

“It’s ‘Mellon’, but spelt weird. I don’t know the spelling.”

I was going to find the spelling. I walked into the bookstore with a purpose. I asked an employee but she couldn’t help. The computer wasn’t finding the book and she needed the correct spelling. I wasn’t defeated. With the same energy, I went to our library and asked about the book. The librarian lead me through the labyrinth of novels. Although determined, I wasn’t actually expecting to find it. I had been searching for so long. It seemed surreal. We stopped, and she pointed at the book.

Finally, after years of searching, I had the book in my hands. I went to our basement and sat in my favourite chair, excited to open the pages and see the words. I read the first chapter. The characters were unfamiliar. I kept reading, but it was clear that this was a completely different story.

It was the wrong book.

To this day, I identify myself online with the wrong name of a fake book. I will probably never know if that story was the creation of extreme telephone or if her friend confused two titles, or made it up completely. I keep reading.

As the years passed, I forgot more and more of the story. Now it floats in my head like that dream from last night or that illusive word on your tongue, out of memories grasp. And yet, you are so sure that it would be instantly recognizable, if only someone would tell you. The best story that I ever heard might never be told again, but I am always reminded of truly great stories and the possibility to write them every time I log in.

Manfraiya