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Published in the May 2000 issue of Inspire (an Australian quarterly newsletter published on the web and in print), this story grew out of my former position as an officer of the West Chester Borough Commission of Disabilities. One of the other former commission members is blind, and around the time of our work, he had been mugged and suffered a traumatic brain injury. As a result of his injury, he had lost two years of his life... including his graduate school studies! Fortunately he had been married for three years and did remember his wife. But my nasty Devil's advocate of an imagination asked: What if?. It's a short-short slice of life more than anything, written and enclosed here to show the unimportance of disabilities given the right attitude.
©2000, F. Alexander Brejcha.
I was lying on a narrow, hard bed with its head raised up at a forty-five degree angle. It was cold, and I was surrounded by the smell of antiseptic cleaners with an undercurrent of urine and cheap wine, and off to the right, a soft regular whirring worked vainly to conceal the harsh breathing of someone lying near me. Another man -- I smelled pipe tobacco -- lay near me, and he was an old man from the odor of aging and liniment that hung over him. I was in an emergency room. I didn't know how I knew, but the unmistakable image came to mind. Image. I 'saw' an image. At one time, I had been able to see. The amorphous field of light and dark that shifted around me held no clue about what was front of me -- no matter how hard I tried to focus. I was blind. I remembered that. But not for all of my life. Just for... how long? And when was now?
My head hurt!
Something moved in close to block the light, and a new smell teased my nose. A light floral scent that seemed somehow familiar, even if I couldn't place it. She leaned down over me and a soft hand stroked my face lightly, followed by a gentle touch of lips on mine.
"They'll be with you in a minute, hon."
Her voice was sweet to hear. Husky and vibrant with concern. Who was she?
I grabbed the hand. A surge of panic flooded up as I realized that I didn't know who was touching me so tenderly.
"Who are you?" My fear was audible even to me.
She sat down next to me, her arms clamping around me tightly as her head burrowed close. Freshly washed and herbal-scented hair tickled my nose, and her slender body shook lightly in my arms as I automatically returned the embrace. The head lifted after a moment.
"I'm sorry, sugar," she whispered. "It just scares me!" She took a deep breath. "I'm okay. I'm Ann. Your wife?"
My wife? Why couldn't I remember? I felt like screaming... and at the same time, I gave in to my urge to hold her closer, to pull her in as if it might bring back what I had lost. What else had I lost?
"What happened," I managed to ask after a long moment. "Where are we... how long have we been married?" The questions tumbled out of me. "And why can't I remember you?" I felt guilty,
"You were mugged," she explained. "They smashed you over the head with a pipe and robbed you. The ambulance just brought you in here a little while ago." She got up abruptly.
"Where the hell is that doctor?" she snapped. "I can see it on their faces. Just another stranger brought in to the E.R. by the police. Who cares--"
"The police?"
"I'm sorry sweetheart." She was instantly at my side again. "Yes. They called me because they got our number off of Billy's collar since your wallet was gone."
"Billy?" I felt so stupid!
"Your guide dog. They clubbed him, too, but he's okay. Tyra... my sister, took him home to keep an eye on him."
Nothing. The name 'Billy' triggered no more memory than Ann's name or embrace. My eyes were burning and I felt soft fingertips brush my cheeks gently.
"Nothing?"
A sad question, but she knew. Must have known already. I shook my head and she sighed.
"They warned me. When they examined you the first time, you didn't know your name or anything. I guess I was just hoping that by now things might have started coming back."
"No, I know who I am. I'm Matt Lansing--"
"You remember?" Bright hope colored her voice as she hugged me again.
I nodded and stroked her hair... An image flashed through my mind... of a beautiful brunette dressed in a maroon business suit, and who had a smile to make one's heart ache. It was a fleeting image that disappeared as rapidly as it had appeared, but I tried to hold on to it as I pulled her close. It felt so natural to hold her. Scents of Chanel mixed with an undercurrent of coffee.
She always drank too much coffee when stressed I suddenly remembered! That was real! Part of me had to remember. I concentrated on what else I could recall... a name... waking up to find bright lights shining into my eyes followed by insistent, rude questions which I couldn't answer. Then... more bits and pieces -- but still nothing else about Ann!
I took her hand and brought it to my mouth, kissing the soft fingers lightly. Her hand was so soft, so small in mine. I couldn't remember her, but touching her, holding her struck a chord deep inside. It seemed so familiar, so normal.
"Am I, was I a good husband?" I wondered, trying desperately to bring some scrap of memory to mind.
"You are!"
"Excuse me Mrs. Lansing," a new voice intruded apologetically. She had a strong Middle Eastern accent, and I relinquished my grip on Ann reluctantly.
"I'm Dr. Shah," she went on. "I do apologize for the delay, but I wanted to tell you of the results of the CAT scan and MRI." I had a flash of memory of a claustrophobic container around me.
"What did the scans show?" Ann asked. "Any subdural bleed? The triage nurse couldn't tell from his eyes because his pupils haven't been equally reactive for years."
I turned towards her with surprise. Was she a doctor, too? And what was I? I recognized the terms, too, and I knew what they meant. They related to brain damage.
"No," Shah answered. "The scans were all negative. Some swelling and he definitely has a concussion, but no significant damage. I believe that his amnesia was probably aggravated by his prior brain damage, though. The extra volume allowed more brain vibration from the impact--"
"Tell him," Ann interrupted firmly.
"My suicide!" I had a strong, gut-wrenching memory of heavy, cold metal in my hand. A numbing, lonely, angry pain mixed with terrified expectation. Then a building wish to turn off the pain and to find peace overwhelmed the fear... I was wrapped in darkness as I cocked the gun and raised it -- I had closed my eyes. At the last moment, I had felt a strange peace as I realized the decision had been made: there was no turning back... and I had pulled the trigger.
It had been in college. An intense love affair had been taken away by a more popular rival, and my reputation had been ruined by a baseless cheating accusation.
I closed my eyes tightly and tried to recapture the fleeting memories. I had been put on academic suspension pending possible expulsion from school... I couldn't remember what I had been studying, but I knew my parents had sacrificed everything to send me to school and that this would ruin them. My suicide attempt had been a stupid and immature act, and I had felt appropriately punished by surviving and waking up in a hospital bed like this. Overwhelmed with guilt and anger at screwing up something so simple as shooting myself. Since then, my world had been totally dark for... how long?
When had I met Ann?
My eyes were burning again as I told her what I remembered, and I felt her hand tighten on mine as she leaned close to whisper:
"That was fifteen years ago! You were a whole other person with problems you couldn't deal with -- then."
"Before I met you?"
"Yea!" She squeezed my hand even tighter and I knew she was smiling. "You just needed a woman's touch."
I smiled as I whispered: "The right woman's touch." Then I turned back to Shah. "So, what's with my amnesia? How long, how much, et cetera, et cetera."
I heard the rustle of her lab-coat and imagined her holding her hands up uncertainly.
"I don't know. I could admit you for observation, but I really don't feel it's necessary. My advice would be to go home and get some rest. Ann, wake him up periodically to make sure he can be roused properly. You know the routine. You're a nurse. As for the amnesia, I've called in for a consult and you'll be getting a call from Dr. Bodine in the morning to bring him in for a full neuro-psych work-up. For tonight, though, give things a chance to settle. Now, I've got three other patients waiting, so I'm afraid I've got to run and leave you to get dressed."
I felt a hand reach out to touch mine and I shook it.
"Thank you, doctor."
Then I sat up as I heard a curtain being drawn open and shut, leaving us alone. I also felt a cold draft on my back from the open-backed gown and shivered as I heard Ann chuckle.
"I'm sorry, hon, but you look ridiculous in that thing. We've got to get you home and warmed up..." The teasing suggestiveness in her voice suddenly turned a little nervous.
I reached out for her hand.
"I know. I'm scared, too. And angry that I can't remember anything about us!"
She came back into my arms and hugged me fiercely. After a long moment I leaned back and ran my fingers lightly over her satin-soft face, trying again to build an image of her in my mind. She moved with me patiently, shivering slightly as my fingers touched her closed, wet eyelids. In between them, a straight, slightly upturned nose lead me to trace the contours of her features and full lips. I found twin dimples as she smiled and felt myself respond. She was beautiful. I didn't need to see her to know that. Feathery lashes stroked my lips as I leaned forward to kiss her closed eyes softly, tasting the remnants of her tears as I did.
"We'll take it slow," I promised. "Explore each other like it was the first time." An anticipatory tightness built in my chest and I felt like a teenager on his first date.
"We'll go over your job," Ann started, misunderstanding me, "and I'll try to remind you of--"
I stopped her with a kiss, tasting her lips this time. "No. Later for that. Right now let's just pretend this is our first night together. No stress, no worries about the past. Just you, and me, and a fire and we'll see what happens." I had a brief flash of a fireplace with a wide soft rug facing it.
Ann was silent a moment, and then her finger stroked a path up my chest until I felt the back of her hand stroke my chin.
"Okay, lover." Her voice was full of husky promise. "You got it."
* * *
I woke in the darkness. Ann's arm was draped over my chest, her fingers softly moving in her sleep as she lay cradled in my arms. Outside the open window, I heard the gentle smattering of rain against the canvas overhang -- 'clams at a political convention', Ann had called it with a laugh the first time she had heard it.
I remembered!
My left arm was asleep, but I didn't care. I felt almost dizzy with joy as I realized the memory was real. A single clear sharp image among an enveloping cotton candy clouds of ephemeral and untouchable memories. But I remembered lying here, just like this, in the dark after making love... the night before we left to go on our honeymoon!
A heavy jaw dropped onto the bed and a furry Labrador muzzle pushed under my hand, demanding to be petted. Billy. He knew I was back. Next to me Ann stirred.
"Honey, are you okay? I fell asleep. I'm sorry."
I leaned down to kiss her. "I'm wonderful -- you're wonderful!" More images welled up. "We went to Bermuda on our honeymoon." I heard her gasp. "It was right after I passed the bar! I'm a lawyer, you're the director of nursing at... I can't remember where, but I don't care! It'll come back to me."
She hugged me tight and I heard little half sobs, half laughs as she clung to me happily. "Welcome home!"
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