John Doe

Ay caraumba, amigos y amigas! This week, we're going to take a trip down Mexico way with seor Doggett. Are you ready? Let's go!

Day 1: Doggett wakes up on the floor of a warehouse to see a dude stealing one of his shoes. "Hey, dammit! That's my shoe," he mumbles, then manages to stumble to his feet and chase the Shoe Stealer out on the street. Now, I've only passed out twice, but both times when I came to I was in no mood to chase someone for a shoe. A more rational reaction? "Why are you taking...wow, I feel...hmmm."

So, Doggett comes running out of the warehouse and into the street. The director -- one Michelle MacLaren -- has decided to do a Traffic-type thing with the film here; it's all overexposed and funky-looking. I like it. In fact, I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that Ms. MacLaren did a very good job with this episode, and I'd also like to say that it's about time a woman who is not named Gillian Anderson got behind the camera on this show. So, there. Anyway, Doggett's all looking around Mexico (it's clearly Mexico; there are piatas hanging in the streets and maracas on the soundtrack), a flummoxed expression on his face. Eventually, he sees the Shoe Stealer and takes off after him. He catches up fairly quickly (especially considering that he's running around with only one shoe), and grabs him. There's screaming in Spanish. I took French, so I can't translate very well, but the Shoe Stealer is basically yelling for help. Which arrives in the form of the police, who grab the shoe out of Doggett's hands, toss it in the gutter, and demand to see Doggett's papers. Doggett pats his pockets and comes up empty-handed. No passport, no visa, nothing. The cop rattles off something en Espaol. Doggett just stares at him. "Hombre, what is your name?" the cop asks. Doggett looks up with sad eyes. "I...I don't know," he says. Amnesia! Man, it's everywhere. There are two amnesiacs on Passions, for instance, and now poor Doggett! In fact, I was just reading the brilliant self-help book Having It All, by Erica Kane, and she mentions that you really have to be careful not to catch the amnesia. "At times, the condition seems almost epidemic," she writes. "The only way I can think of to protect yourself is to avoid head injuries or traumas of any sort, including emotional ones which can trigger amnesia instantaneously." She also advises that you avoid Pine Valley. I trust that most of you, my readers, do not spend much time in Pine Valley, but I am concerned that you might conk your head and forget everything. Everything! Maybe you all ought to start wearing helmets. Clearly, any one of us could fall victim to this dread disease. Be careful out there.

Credits.

Day 2: Prison. Doggett's still only wearing one shoe, which he takes off and starts banging against the bars. He calls loudly for the guards. No response. A guy with a goatee watches him and chuckles as Doggett bends down to put his shoe back on. "Something funny? Yo soy ha ha?" Doggett spits. He's a little cranky, what with the prison and the amnesia and the one shoe and whatnot. "Nice touch, putting it back on again. Your one shoe," Goatee says. Doggett's all, you speak English? Why didn't you say something before? "You weren't funny before," Goatee says. Doggett asks where the hell they are -- what the name of the town is. "Man, if you can't remember, you must have had one fine time getting here," Goatee says; he then asks what Doggett's name is. Doggett says nothing. "Damn, you don't know that either, huh? Call you 'One Shoe.' Seor Uno Zapato, huh? One Shoe, what do you know?" I think I'm going to take that as a shout-out, because if I didn't know Doggett's name, I would have dubbed him One Shoe myself. In fact, now that we know The X-Files is ending in May, I expect shout-outs in each and every episode. Even if I have to make them up! Which I will. Moving right along: all Doggett knows is that he's got to get out of the pokey. Goatee makes some comment about needing cash to bribe the guards, because that's the only way Doggett's going to be able to swing getting sprung. Doggett offers that maybe he'll call the American embassy! Goatee muses that the embassy will probably be able to get Doggett home, eventually. But where is home? he asks. Doggett doesn't know. Because he doesn't know anything. Because he has amnesia. Still following? "You know what I think, One Shoe? Maybe getting home is not in your best interest," Goatee says. Because all the Americans in this little piata-filled Mexican town are on the lam. "In this town, people like you come here to disappear," Goatee announces. And speaking of disappearing, I'm afraid I've got some very bad news. The Scully action figure is nowhere to be found. I don't mean that she's fallen behind the sofa or between the desk and the bookshelf. The Mulder and I spent most of Sunday tearing my apartment from stem to stern. And...nothing. Although I did find her tiny plastic cell phone nestled inside one of my loafers. Yeah, I don't know what to tell you people. She's just...gone. "People like me? You don't know me," Doggett spits. "Hey, you don't know you," Goatee points out helpfully. Doggett looks thoughtful.

It's Flashback time! You can tell it's a flashback because the camera lens is all filmy, like on Passions when Eve flashes back to when she was a drug-addicted nightclub singer who had a baby with Julian Crane and then it either died or was kidnapped by Julian's minions and then raised in a town far away and now has returned to romance Eve's daughter in a variation on the ever-popular I Love My Sister storyline and you can barely even see the action because they've got the lens covered in Vaseline. Speaking of Passions, how hysterical is this current story arc, with Julian Crane dead (or is he?) and every single person in town acting guilty and carrying a gun? Oh, right: The X-Files. I'm sorry. Anyway, in this flashback, Doggett's sleeping in a warm and comfortable bed, all curled up and cozy to...a blonde woman. Dammit, I honestly thought for half a second that it was going to be Skinner. Then I remembered that I don't write for this show anywhere other than in my own head. DeadLuke -- alive for flashback purposes -- hops up onto the bed and starts jumping up and down. In prison, Doggett opens his eyes and grips his head. I guess his flashbacks are debilitating, like Cordelia's visions on Angel. You know, before they made her into a demon and all.

Day 8: Doggett's still in jail, and he looks like ass. Although he sure does know how to fill out a t-shirt. Anyway, some dude finally bails out Goatee, whose name we learn is "Domingo." They speak of the Spanish, and Domingo calls the dude "Nestor," which I appreciate because the only name I could think to call him was The Dude Who Bailed Goatee Out of The Pokey, and that'd be a bitch to type. Domingo's all leaving, but he shoots one last look at Doggett. "How much for him?" he asks in Spanish. "Not much. Why, are you in love?" Nestor cracks. In another shout-out to me! Gay love cracks are a shout-out! (P.S. Thanks to my friend Carrie, who called me at the commercial to translate those lines for me. I'd hate to miss a fabricated shout-out just because I chose to learn the wrong foreign language). Anyway, Domingo offers to take Doggett with him, and says he's got a job for him. "What kind of job?" Doggett asks. "What the hell do you care?" Domingo asks.

So, I guess Doggett agreed that he doesn't really care, because the thing you know, Doggett and Nestor and Domingo are all walking around outside the jail. Domingo reflects that maybe if Doggett works real hard, Domingo will buy him another shoe. "Right one, left one, your choice," he smirks. Doggett just marches right past Domingo's battered old car. It's not like he's actually planning to work for Domingo, or anything. Domingo, however, makes it abundantly clear that Doggett will be working for him. "I own you like I own that car," he says. Doggett glances back, looking pissed, and then starts walking again. thing you know, Nestor got a gun in Doggett's back. Doggett turns and stares, and then swiftly disarms him. Apparently, the amnesia hasn't wiped out his kung-fu grip. Domingo sneers something about finding out that whomever Doggett is, he isn't a man of his word. Doggett just unloads the gun with one hand, throws it away and then walks off.

Miraculously, he manages to track down the Shoe Stealer. "Fit good? My shoe?" he asks. Who knew that Doggett was so obsessed with his footwear? Although I actually have dreams about losing my shoes and having to walk around barefoot on a rather regular basis, so maybe this is another shout-out to me! ["You do? Me too!" -- Wing Chun] Although I don't want to think about how 1013 knows what I'm dreaming about. Okay, I'm scared now. Let's talk about something else. Doggett wants to know what else the Shoe Stealer has. His documents? His money? "Show me!" he hollers. But Shoe Stealer comes up empty-handed...except for a tiny pewter skull, the sort you'd find on a very Goth charm bracelet. He mumbles something in Spanish that sounds like "disappeared" and which I don't know how to spell. Doggett's all, "No comprendo," and the Shoe Stealer makes a "pouf" motion with his hands and smiles. Doggett furrows his brow.

Anonymous Mexican Bar. Enter Doggett. Domingo and Nestor are already hunkered down with beers, chilling. Doggett walks up to them and is all, stare. "What's the job?" he finally asks. "We're movers," Domingo says. But they don't move armoires and duvets. Oh, no. They're people movers. They take people over the border. Please, don't let this episode degenerate into a rehash of El Norte, which I had to see for a class and which scarred me for life because there's this whole scene where a girl is crawling through the sewer and over the border, and she gets attacked by about six hundred rats. "Don't turn your nose up at me," Domingo says when Doggett reacts less than positively to the idea of transporting illegal aliens. "For all you know, you spend your life fondling little boys." Actually, Skinner's not all that...nah, that's too easy. I'm better than that. So, Nestor and Domingo chat in Spanish for a second, and then Domingo looks back at Doggett and smirks. "You start tomorrow," he says. "I'd invite you to have a drink with us, but Nestor hates you." Heh. Domingo pulls a wad of money from his billfold, and gives Doggett a chunk of it, calling it "first month's salary," and telling him not to leave town. Doggett pockets the cash and starts to go, but then turns back and holds out the skull. "This mean anything to you?" he asks. "Not a thing," Domingo lies, "other than the fact that you have silver in your pocket and you still ask me for money." Doggett shrugs and walks off and the editors introduce us to Senor Subtitle: "Bad idea, Domingo, we don't know what this one wants," says Nestor. "He want to remember, like the rest of them," Domingo shrugs.

Up in his tiny and pathetic room, Doggett stares into the mirror. The Sad Music of the Amnesiac wails in the background. He leans in closer to examine his hairline, and finds two strange half-moon-shaped scars, one on either temple. He furrows his brow, and takes off his shirt. I know that's what I do when I'm perplexed about something. I was the most popular girl in my math class. He examines his Marine tattoo, then looks back up at his reflection. "I'm a Marine," he whispers. "Semper Fi."

Outside the inn, a man stands in profile and lights a cigar. Let's call him Cigar Smoking Hombre. CSH is more talented at accessorizing than CSM ever was, however: he's wearing a pewter-skull-charm bracelet. Apparently, those are all the rage south of the border.

Day 12: Kersh's office. Skinner and Scully sit in front of him, both looking more than a little concerned. "What's this I'm hearing about Mexico?" Kersh barks. Scully passes him a security-camera photograph of Doggett, crossing the border from Texas into Mexico. "Are you sure this is Doggett?" Kersh asks. They think so, and Moronica agrees, Skinner says. Kersh purses his lips and comments that this development "reshapes [their] investigation." Skinner nods. "It's our first solid lead," he says, and suggests they extend their task force into Mexico. "I'm not extending the task force. I'm disbanding it." Kersh says. Skinner looks utterly stricken. Scully looks mildly nonplussed. Kersh explains that he really has no other choice; he's had forty agents all over Texas "in what appears to be a wasted effort." Skinner covers his eyes, the better to hide his tears of worry and pain. "I can't move them lock, stock, and barrel into Mexico," Kersh says. "Not on the strength of this. Turn it over to the Mexican federal police," he orders. Scully offers that Doggett, down in Mexico, could well be injured. Kersh tells her that, whether she believes it or not, he wants to find Doggett as much as they do. But their resources are already taxed by national security concerns. Scully eyebrows. Skinner tries not to weep. "Sir," he begins, "Agent Reyes is still in San Antonio. She was raised in Mexico. She could offer the federal police on-site help." Kersh quirks his brows and says that Moronica can help the federales all she likes, "from this side of the border."

Texas. Moronica is meeting with a Mr. Molina and his lawyer. "What's keeping you so busy?" she asks him, snidely. Apparently, she's been having a problem getting a sit-down with him. He tells her that he sells a lot of farm equipment. He's very occupied! Moronica opens her mouth and starts speaking Spanish, accusing Molina of selling drugs along with tractors. And he's all, I have no idea what you mean, and then the lawyer is all, I don't speak Spanish. "She says I sell drugs," Molina translates. "Please don't speak Spanish anymore," the lawyer deadpans. That line was much funnier than it comes across in writing. Moronica smirks and opens a file folder. "You know Hollis Rice, don't you?" she asks, gesturing to a picture of a middle-aged white dude. Apparently, this Rice person is missing; Doggett was investigating his disappearance, and now Doggett is missing, and did Molina happen to speak to him before he fell off the face of the earth? "No," Molina says. Moronica stares at him. She clearly doesn't buy it. The lawyer sputters that he doesn't know what Moronica is insinuating, but "Mr. Molina is a pillar --" Moronica rolls her eyes. "'A pillar of the community'?" she spits. "Does anyone actually use that phrase except Mob lawyers?" The lawyer's lips disappear into his mouth. Moronica hypothesizes that Molina is the middleman for some kind of drug-smuggling operation, and that Hollis was laundering the money, but he knew too much or something and now he's disappeared. "And my now my partner has disappeared, too. He's in Mexico -- I know that much. And I will find him, whatever it takes. Your only personal hope for the future is that I find him alive. Now, where is he?" Moronica yelps. The lawyer says something about Molina not being under arrest, and if he's not under arrest, then "this meeting is over." Moronica stares. Molina and counsel stand to leave. "Think hard about your future, Mr. Pillar of the Community," Moronica tells Molina en Espaol. I think I want people to start calling me Senorita Pilar de la Communidad.

Flashbackery. NotYetDeadLuke's still jumping up and down on Doggett's marital bed. He wants Daddy to get up! He has something to show him! Doggett peers sleepily at the bedside clock; it's 5:28 AM. "Daddy, come on! Please!" NotYetDeadLuke chortles. Doggett asks if it can wait. NotYetDeadLuke leaps and hops and shakes his darling, not yet dead little head. Doggett smiles at him and peels himself out of bed, warning NotYetDeadLuke not to wake his mother.

So finally Doggett regains consciousness...um, somewhere -- an official-looking place with phones and official-looking people. I don't know; maybe it's an American Express office. Anyway, Doggett has a phone call. People speak Spanish, and then Doggett goes over and takes his call. Oh, I guess he contacted the Marine Corps Public Affairs office, and now they're calling him back. Doggett identifies himself as "Detective Laratel" (taking the name from a poster on the wall) and explains to the Marine that he's got an amnesiac in custody with nothing to identify him but the tattoo on his arm. The Marine explains that said tattoo refers to the Lebanon barracks bombing in 1983. Doggett "mmm-hmm"s and gives a physical description of himself, asking if the Marine could do some digging. "If you could just put a name to him, if you could just tell me anything at all about him, anything," Doggett asks. The Marine makes agreeable noises, and asks Doggett where he can reach him. Doggett's about to answer when he looks up and sees the cops strolling in. He bails.

Domingo's Junkyard and Garage. Doggett works on a bus, as Nestor watches and looks shifty. Enter Domingo. He and Nestor chat in Spanish, before Domingo announces that he's very pleased with Doggett's work ethic. "Now, if only you'd drive for me," he muses. Doggett insists that he won't break the law. Domingo rolls his eyes. "A man of principle. As far you know," he snarks, taking a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and shoving it under Doggett's nose. "You're not going to like it," he smiles. Seems Doggett fits the description of a murderer wanted by the police. Doggett's face falls. Domingo smiles at him patronizingly and tells him not to take being a cold-blooded killer so hard. He's not judging him! "Just keep away from the federales. We'll keep you safe," he says, chucking him gently on the shoulder and taking his exit. Nestor eyes Doggett irritably.

A nervous-looking Nestor pays CSH a visit. They speak Spanish. Subtitles tell me that Nestor thinks Doggett is different than the schmoes the Cartel usually has disappeared. "I sense I'm telling you something you already know," Nestor says. "He's an FBI agent," CSH says. Nestor, shocked, wonders why they haven't killed him yet. CSH shrugs: "Same as everyone, I take my orders from the Cartel. My orders didn't mention killing the man. Of course, if he were to die tonight, it's no concern of mine." They stare at each other. Nestor is like the Mexican Krycek. Only not as hot. Also, he has both his arms.

Cut to the San Antonio Field Office. Enter Scully with a big old bag. I might be crazy, but the dude in the background looks really familiar for an extra. I think he's been on this show before, in an FBI Agent-type capacity, and if I'm right, that's nice continuity. Scully scampers over to the desk where Moronica is staring at a pile of papers. "[Moronica]," she says. "Dana!" Moronica chirps. "Surprise, surprise," Scully says, almost smiling. She's snuck down there without telling Kersh, she says. Just like old times, running all over America without telling her boss. Kersh is also unaware that "Skinner's on his way to Mexico to consult with the federal police." Scully mentions that she got some dirt that might help their investigation: someone in Mexico is trying to get information about a amnesiac Marine fitting Doggett's description. Moronica takes a look at the police report. "Officer Laratel?" she asks. Turns out that "Laratel" is a Mexican phone card. It's like calling in a police report as Mr. Verizon Wireless. Scully looks thoughtful. "I'll trace the call," she says.

Domingo's House of Buses. Doggett's still working on the bus, this time lying underneath it and poking it with sharp objects. Nestor strolls over, looking somewhat menacing. Doggett asks Nestor something in broken Spanish, and Nestor sneers. "I speak English. By the way," he says. "Yeah. See you in hell, FBI." He draws his gun. Wow, who knew Nestor was such a bad-ass? Doggett's no dummy, though, and works some mechanical mojo, causing the propped-up bus to fall square on Nestor's foot. Nestor yells in agony, and then rips his bloody foot out from under the bus. By the time he's cognizant enough to look for Doggett, however, our intrepid hero is gone. Nestor hops around, waving his gun as the camera pulls out and away from the garage. We hear a gunshot, but I don't think it was Doggett who got plugged.