A mysterious man who is known as "The Phoenix" or "Ambrose" is being hunted for being immortal.
Bounty Hunters and legend seekers have been looking for one man. He is known for living on the earth for several decades or maybe for a century or two. Many want to know how he has done it, some want to dissect him, and others want him to simply die. I am one of those that are hunting for him but I have still yet to understand why I want to take the journey to find him. My family has a lot of money and land, and I have no grudge against him; I just woke up one day and decided to try to find him. What would I do after I find him? No idea actually, but I could simply help him since a lot of people want to kill him for no good reasons.
I had started my journey right after I graduated from high school. With a few thousand dollars in my pocket and a small car to travel in, I began looking for him in New York City. Some of the rumors say that he was probably born in New York in the 1800s, but no one knows his real name, so they can’t check the census from the 1800s. Of course I believed the rumor and left from my apartment in Los Angeles and drove all the way to New York City. I drove several days to New York for no reason. How in the world could I find one man, who has to hide from the rest of the world, in such a huge city? Of course I drove all the way back home to think about the fact that I wasn’t thinking and to collect my thoughts.
So here is where I am now: at home, sulking. “How could I stupidly drive all the way there?” I thought aloud to myself, several times. It had been a week since I arrived back from my “trip of stupidity”.
“Ugh! I can’t believe that I just did that,” I said to my cat who sat on the couch next to me. She was an adorable orange tabby that I adopted the day my parents bought me this apartment. She and I had finally reached a mutual relationship after I gave her a filet of fish for dinner one night, and she hasn’t forgotten it.
“Meow,” was her response. It was more like a purr, but I didn’t really care at this moment. I looked into her light green eyes as she looked at me. That is when I began to remember the news story about Ambrose saving a man here in California back in 2016 from dying in a wildfire. That is when I remembered one detail; he was wearing a Navy Veterans uniform.
Chiara’s meowing awoke me from my thought.
“Yes?” I asked her, “Are you hungry?”
A long, loud, line of meows was her response, so I got up from the tan couch and walked to the kitchen. The apartment was a one bedroom and one bathroom apartment. When you walk in through the front door, you first see the large living room with the door leading to the balcony. To the left is the open kitchen and to the far right are the stairs that lead to the bedroom and bathroom. I didn’t want to stay in the large, empty house that my parents lived in, so I asked them to at least buy me an apartment. It cost between one-thousand to three-thousand dollars, and was first actual gift that I wanted and received from them.
“Okay, okay,” I laughed as she continued to meow, “I understand. Gosh.” I fixed her a plate of cat food and set it down on the floor as she continued to articulate her need for the food. When she got quiet, I went to my bedroom to find my laptop which sat on my dresser. I found the article and read it. With this new thought in my head, I found another article about what his possible age is.
“So he might be 200.” I whispered. That was when I got a thought in my head. “Maybe,” I said aloud, “if he is a war veteran, what are the chances that he was in another war.” I said as I pulled up different sites about people signing up for the Army, Navy, and other Armed Forces. I even tried to find if I can see names of soldiers from the Civil War. After three hours, I made a small discovery. There was one name that continued to pop up, “Andrew Anderson.” I whispered. There was an Andrew Anderson in the Vietnam War, in WWI, WWII, and even an Andrew Anderson in the Confederate Army during the Civil War.
“That must be him!” I exclaimed after it set in. There were other name that popped up multiple times but none were almost in every war.
“He must really like to fight or he really loves this country.” I whispered. After closing my laptop, I began to think about how he must be. I searched up the name and found that there was one "Andrew Anderson" born in what is now Baton Rouge.
I packed up my bags again and decided to take the drive to Louisiana.