He knew help had arrived when out of the corner of his eye he saw the reflection of the cruiser lights dancing on the windows. Voices called and doors slammed. Soon there were people reaching in and pulling him out of the car.
“We have to use the Jaws of Life,” he heard a fireman say. Someone was shining a light in his eyes; another was wrapping him in an orange fleece. They loaded him onto a stretcher as the snow landed on his face. A voice that sounded far away asked him what his name was. He shook his head wondering if he should make one up. Josh was a good name, he could have said Josh, but he didn’t. He wondered if the man next to him was alive and then he heard the sirens of another ambulance and the skidding of wheels on gravel as it pulled away sirens screaming. He lay back against the flat pillow and tried hard to remember…..and then he did. Things good and bad came seeping back into his brain like warm water through a cracked block of ice. He flinched as he remembered things that he’d rather forget.
The EMT asked him if he was all right. He shook his head yes, though on the inside where it counted, where wounds couldn’t be salved and sewn, he wasn’t. He rubbed his head, knuckles against temples and wished that he couldn’t remember. How easy it would be if his mind had been wiped clean like an eraser board. No trace of the happy or miserable, just a clean fresh start. The ambulance came to a smooth stop and the twin doors were opened by a set of gloved hands. He allowed himself to be pushed and pulled and prodded through the emergency room doors until he lay in a stark white room waiting for an MRI. He remained silent. A doctor entered the room where he waited for his results. He was an Indian man with a kind face. He wore a wedding band on his ring finger with three rubies embedded in the gold. His name tag read Dr. Sunji Puni. He wondered if Dr. Puni was happy and if those three red stones symbolized his children. He wanted to ask, but still he said nothing. The doctor in his accented voice spoke.
“You have a serious concussion. I want to run some more tests on you to be certain that there is no extensive damage to your brain. The EMTs informed me that you were having some confusion as to who you are.” The patient said nothing, though he stared at the flat white ceiling as if it were a great work of art.
“Can you tell me your name?” Still, he said nothing, his eyes moving back and forth, back and forth.
“Sir? Do you know who you are?” the doctor’s voice was concerned now, having hit an octave higher than before. I know, I know! His mind screamed. The patient turned his head until he was looking into heavily lined black eyes. He’d made his decision right then and there. There would be a lot of trouble over what he was about to do, but he didn’t care. He had to find her.
“No,” said Caleb Drake. “I don’t remember anything at all.”
One Year Gone
Two Years Gone
Three Years....
Four
Chapter Fifteen
Four years pass. They taste like cardboard.
I am different. I am a galaxy away from where I used to be. I live in the solar system, “Sooo moved on”.
Mr. X is just a memory now. Heck, I’m not even sure all of that even happened. My reality is that I went to law school, graduated, got a job as an associate at a large firm…..
After I graduated, I bought a townhouse with Cammie with the last of my mother’s insurance money. It’s a good thing I got the job too, because my bank account was dwindling down to empty. We drink a lot, eat out more, and spend all of our free time at the gym, working off the alcohol and restaurant food. Cammie is working in decorating, a practically extinct career nowadays, but somehow she managed to land a job with a company that decorates for the immensely wealthy. We both do well. I win most of my cases. I still have the ability to twist the truth, something that has come in handy in my field.
A month ago, I got a call from my old boss, Bernie. She wants me to come and work at her firm, says if I do well she’ll make me partner. Cammie and I drink on it all week. She’s wanted to move back to Florida for years. Cammie says that its time I face South Florida again. She says it’s where I belong. Texas is for friendly people, she tells me. I belong somewhere fast paced and rude. We decide to sell our townhouse and transplant our lives.
I have a boy, well, male friend—did I mention that? He is wonderful. He promises that we can make our long distance relationship work until he can be transferred to be with me. I believe him. He wants to marry me, he says so all the time. I believe him on that, too.
I pack my things into a U-Haul with the help of Turner, that’s my boyfriend, and we drive across three state lines listening to the best of the eighties. Cammie calls every thirty minutes to check on me. She is following in a few months, probably with three U-Hauls.
Turner massages my neck while I drive. He’s such a peach. When we arrive at my new condo, which I will not be sharing with Cammie, there are men waiting to carry my furniture into my new home. Turner hired them to help, so we wouldn’t have to do it ourselves. I wouldn’t have minded, but Turner hates to get his hands dirty. After the movers leave I wander from room to room admiring the very impressive view. From the south side windows I can see the ocean as it melts into the horizon and from the west, every rooftop in a mile radius. The condo is in Sunny Isles and it cost me more than my mother had made in her lifetime. I am a good defense attorney, I am an excellent liar. Life has turned out the way I always wanted it to. Except for…anyway…I love my condo. Turner and I will no doubt christen it tonight. Fun. Yay! He is very handsome in a conventional, clean-cut way. He is tall, olive skinned, and pretentious. He wears dress shirts all the time. No seriously—he does. He is also a lawyer, so we have lots and lots in common. Real Estate law—but still…