by R. J. Lloyd
“That’s what we’re going to find out, Eva.” Ian put a hand on her shoulder.
She squeezed her eyes shut. “All of this. The dreams. You being real. The asylum. This road trip. Now, us both having lost our memories from accidents about the same age. It’s all too much!”
“That’s what I was trying to connect earlier. I didn't know if it was a coincidence. I can’t tell anything anymore.” Ian ran his hands through his hair.
“You couldn’t tell?” Her tension spilled out in her movements.
“Wait, calm down.” Ian reached out to her.
But she pulled away. “I don’t know if I can take much more. I'm not this woman. I’m not this woman. I’m not strong. Especially not with knowing the person who seems to be the enemy here is my own father.”
Ian stood. “Eva, calm down. I know this is nuts. I know. I’m in it with you. But you are strong enough.”
She held her head. “No. I’m really not.”
He put his hands on her arms. “Yes. You are.”
She yanked out of his grip, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I can’t. I’m sorry, but I can’t.”
“Eva, Ian is right,” Mitchell added, trying to help. “You don't want to run from this.”
“You.” She pointed at Mitchell. “Why are you here? Is Ian right, and you see us as some sideshow act? Or are you in on the whole thing? You came in at an awfully convenient time and stuck around when any sane person would have run. So, what gives?”
He looked startled. “Me?”
Ian looked shocked. “Eva? He’s only trying to help. Now is not the time to lash out.”
“I’m not lashing out.”
Mitchell stayed calm, sitting in his seat. “Eva, you just need to hang in, meet with your father, ask your questions, and I'm sure everything will be just fine.”
“Fine? How can anything be fine ever again?” Eva shouted.
“Ma’am?” The server came out from around the counter. “Is everything alright?”
“Yes,” Ian answered.
“I need you to quiet down or leave, please. You're disturbing the other customers.” She walked back to the kitchen, shaking her head.
Ian motioned for Eva to sit back down. “Please, sit. Take a few deep breaths.”
She did as instructed, noticing the glances she was getting from a few of the other patrons. “I’m sorry. I'm so sorry. This is all too much. I’ve stayed quiet, trying to be strong. But I’m crumbling.”
“It’s okay.” Ian moved closer to her. “I get it. This is a lot. And now we both have this coincidental accident and memory loss? It’s just another thing we should ask your father about. But I’m here. I'm here with you. And we will do this together.”
“
It’s like you guys are soulmates.” Mitchell finished his water and flagged the server down for a refill.
“That's it!” Eva rose her voice again.
Ian put a hand out. “Wait.” He gave Eva a look, and she nodded. He turned to Mitchell and stood. “Listen: this was a great idea to sit and talk all this out. We've learned a lot. But, honestly, I'm not sure how you can help us from here. I thank you for getting her away from her father earlier, but right now, we need to relax a little and just make it through… whatever this is.”
“You can’t make me go, man. I want to help. I can help. You can’t tell me about something like this then tell me to act like everything is normal,” Mitchell pleaded.
“Mitchell.” Ian’s voice was full of warning. “We don’t know what we’re up against here, let alone what we’re doing. But if you weren’t paying attention, Eva is struggling with it all, and the last thing she needs is to have some stranger hanging around, reminding us how messed up this whole thing is.”
“I won’t be in the way. I just want to help.” Mitchell begged.
“Write your number down.” Ian slid a napkin across the table. “If we need you, we will call you.”
The man wrote down his number and slid it back over to Ian, who pocketed the napkin. “Thank you.”
Without another word, Mitchell tossed some cash down on the table and stormed out, leaving Ian with a near hyperventilating Eva.
“Take a deep breath.” Ian held a glass of water out to her. “Take a drink. Calm down.”
She spoke between breaths. “Stop telling me what to do, please.”
He sat the glass back down on the table. “Sorry. We need to get out of here and back to the hotel to get our things.”
“Get our things? We can’t leave. We need to get answers from my dad!” She started to get worked up again.
He put a hand on her knee. “We just need to switch hotels. Not leave. I just don't feel safe knowing your father tracked us down, and there’s some sci-fi fanboy creeping around.”
She looked around the restaurant, realizing the scene she had been making and that people were still gawking at them. “You’re right.”
“Are you fine enough to walk?” he asked.
She stood back up. “I freaked out, Ian. I didn’t sprain my ankle. I’m pretty sure I can walk out of here without taking anyone out on my way.”
He chuckled. “Let’s hope so. We don’t need to add murder to our growing list of messed up events.”
Seventeen
Questions
After switching motels, Ian spent the night keeping Eva calm. They went over the questions they wanted to ask her father once. But when she started going into a panic again, he changed the subject, suggesting she take a long, hot bath to relax. Reluctantly, she left her list on the table and headed into to the bathroom.
Eva sat on the side of the tub as it filled with hot water. She let the tips of her fingers wade in the water as it slowly rose in the porcelain basin. The warmth of the water soothing, keeping her from falling back into a panic attack.
When Ian came in the room, he paused as he closed the door and watched her for a moment. A sense of helplessness swept across his face as he saw her sitting there, naked… vulnerable. The delicate lines of her bare back triggered something inside him, and a fog started to sweep across his vision. A vision of her in a wedding dress flashed through his thoughts. It was fleeting but it was there.
He blinked, trying to shake it, realizing just how exhausted he was. But then, he saw a vision of Eva facing him in a park. She wore a blue turtleneck sweater with jeans and a paisley scarf. Her hair was windswept, and she laughed as a breeze picked up, tossing her hair across her eyes and causing her to drop the small stack of leaves she’d been collecting to take home and press between wax paper, as she liked to do every year.
He didn’t know how he knew the details, but he knew them. They were a tangible feeling, a memory that felt as real as any other.
The scene dissolved.
Ian blinked repeatedly, trying to figure out what it was he saw, when he heard Eva scream. He shook his head as his eyes focused. “Eva?”
She stood right in front of him, having dropped the bar soap. “Ian! I didn’t see you come in.”
He knelt down and picked up the bar, handing it to her. “I’ve been there for a minute. I just had some strange non-memories of you.”
“Non-memories?” She reached for the soap, holding her hand out to him.
He started to hand it to her but pulled back. “Climb in. I’ll soap your back.”
“What about these non-memories, though?” she asked, settling in the bath as he suggested.
“It was just some strange vision; kind of like the ones you said you’ve had.” He took her place on the side of the tub. “We were us but not us. Anyway, I don’t want to talk about that. We've had enough of all this weirdness. I don’t want to add to it.”
She looked up at him, the desire to ask more in her eyes. But she nodded, rolling her lips between her teeth. “Alright.”
His touch on her shoulder was a welcome distraction from the thoughts reeling through her mind. But more than a distraction, the feel of his fingers on her flesh was a visible comfort
as she relaxed her posture. She shivered as his hand made its way, guiding the small bar of soap down her back to her waist and back up again, his free hand pouring palmfuls of water to rinse off the lather.
Once Ian finished with her back, he picked up the bottle of shampoo and helped her wash her hair. Her eyes were closed, without the deep lines that riddled her forehead previously.
Once the shampoo was rinsed, Ian stood, disrobing and then sank into the warm water behind her. Eva turned to face him, wrapping her legs around his waist and closing the distance between their bodies.
They both moved slowly, taking their time, letting the stress of everything fall far away from them. They were in the moment, washing each other off as if they were washing the events of the previous few days away.
Her hands moved over the muscles on his chest, the soapy washcloth leaving a trail of bubbles in its wake as his hands roamed over her back. She scooped up water into her palm and poured it down over him, washing away the suds.
Placing her lips on his neck, she pulled his arms tighter around her. He embraced her, holding her tight against him for a moment before gripping her hips and lifting her slightly, lowing her down on top of him and sliding inside her as gently as he could.
She moaned in his ear as her arms snaked around his neck, and she pressed against him. They stayed there, locked together. The closeness soothing them both.
After several minutes, the water got cold. Ian ran his hand over her damp hair and kissed her shoulder. “Come. Let’s go to bed.”
She stood, and he handed her the towel to dry off, and he followed her out of the tub. Once dry, she stood in front of him, the towel wrapped around her. Her damp hair hung around her bare shoulders. Neither of them speaking a word, just looking at one another.
His eyes were locked with hers. “You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”
She reached out and took his hand, leading him out of the bathroom and to the bed. With both hands on his shoulders, she gently pushed him to sit and stepped up between his knees. Letting the towel drop, her lips met his, and what was left of the world faded away.
The pair had collapsed the rest of the previous day’s hours, sleeping away the time, which had been sorely needed. Come morning, Ian and Eva tried to find a balance between refocusing and keeping the stress of the situation away from them.
“I just don't want to have another freak-out session like I did before. I can’t let my father see me like that.” She pulled on her shirt.
He pushed a lock of hair out of her eyes. “Maybe you need to lose control a little. Yell, scream, demand answers. If he’s truly trying to help, once he sees me and sees I'm real, maybe he will back down. But you’re right. He does need to know you’re not falling apart. Show him you’re tackling this extremely strange situation head on.”
“But that’s the thing,” she huffed. “I am falling apart, Ian. I have no idea what I'm doing, let alone the fact that I have no clue what all this means. I wasn’t just throwing a tantrum in front of Mitchell. I don’t think I’m strong enough to handle much more. I feel like my whole life is falling apart, and I was just getting on a roll for the first time since the accident.”
His hands found hers. “Eva, we’re going to go out that door, meet with him face to face, hold our stance and get some answers. Nothing more. Nothing less. And you have to tell yourself that. Be braced for the chance things will get screwed up, but don't plan that they will.”
She bowed her head. “You're right.”
Stepping up in front of her, he took in a deep breath. “Ready?”
She took a breath as well, a much shakier one. “Ready.”
Shoving down the apprehension she felt, Eva followed Ian out to the car. She sat, quiet, as he drove to town. It was a beautiful day out, complete with fluffy, white clouds, but she wasn't able to pull herself out of her mind enough to appreciate it. Instead, she fidgeted with the hem of her shirt and stared out at the landscape as they whizzed past it.
Ian felt helpless. He wanted to help ease her mind and build her confidence, but he didn't know what to say to help her feel less frantic. He didn’t remember his parents, so he couldn’t truly relate. That was part of what he lost because of his accident—the memories of them. Apparently, they'd died just after he graduated high school, and one of his college professors had taken up the fatherly role for him. Stanley Finnigan.
Professor Stanley explained to Ian that he had been rather introverted since his parents’ deaths. He told him what he knew from what little Ian was willing to share before he lost his memory and took him under his wing, even having him over for holidays and such. And, for that, Ian was eternally grateful.
Thinking about Stanley made Ian realize he did have someone like her father, and the prospect of Stanley turning on him was painful to even think about. He glanced over to Eva sitting in the passenger seat, and finally got it. He knew the shooting pain through his chest as he contemplated Stanley’s fictional betrayal was only a fraction of what she must have been feeling.
In that moment, he wanted to hold her more than ever, but he knew if he did, he ran the risk of her falling apart, or worse… falling apart himself. And what she needed right then was for him to be the pillar.
Once parked, Ian came around to her side of the vehicle and waited for her to get out. Kissing her on the forehead, he took her hand and gave her a look of support and understanding. Well, as much as he could in a single expression. In response, she smiled and exhaled. It was an unspoken exchange that could be seen in their posture, which sent a wave of relief through both of them.
“We can leave now. Get out of here, start over, create a new life and figure all this out on our own. Last chance.” Ian squeezed her hand.
She squeezed back. “No. You’re right. We need to know. And I can’t move on unless I know we’re not going to have to look over our shoulders all the time.”
“Alright then.” He pushed the door open. “After you.”
Looking around the room, they found her father already there, sitting at a table against the wall. He stood as they approached. “Ian, I presume.”
Ian shook his hand reluctantly. “Yes.”
“I’m Eva’s father, Marcus Thomas.”
“I know who you are.” Ian’s tone was curt. “You don't look surprised to see that I’m here and real.”
“No. I am not.” Marcus took his seat and motioned for them to take the chairs across the table from him.
Eva sat first. “Does that mean you knew he was real the whole time? Were you lying when you denied seeing him in New York?”
“That means there’s a lot to tell you,” her father replied.
Ian put his arm around her shoulders as he sat. “Then I think it’s time you start talking.”
Marcus glanced at his watch. “I will shortly. But why don’t we order you both a coffee first.”
“I don’t want a coffee, Dad,” Eva spat. “I want answers. And if you think we are just going to sit here and wait for some white coated thugs of yours, you’re mistaken.”
He shook his head. “I’m not going to force you back to that place. But there is someone who needs to join us so we can explain.”
“Explain what?” Ian leaned forward on the table. “I don't know what game you’re playing, but Eva is a good woman. And she doesn't deserve her only family member she has left messing with her like this. Now start talking.”
“That’s the thing. I’m not her family.” Marcus scanned the room dismissively.
“What?” Eva started shaking. “But you’re my…”
“No. I’m not.” His voice was distant. “Ah, here he is. Wait here.”
He got up from the table, leaving Eva and Ian sitting there completely dumbfounded and confused.
“Ian…” Eva’s eyes were filled with tears. “I don’t know what he means. What does he mean?”
“I don't know.” Ian cupped his hand to her cheek. “But we’re going to find out. And no matter
what, I’m here. No matter what he says, don’t let him break you. Just squeeze my hand and feel me right next to you. I’m not going anywhere. Okay?”
She nodded, swallowing hard.
Marcus came back to the table with a man about his same age, waving to the waitress and ordering a round of fresh coffees. Eva looked blankly at the new table guest, not knowing who he was. However, it was Ian’s turn to have his world sinking through the pit of his stomach.
“Stanley?” He flashed back to the trail of thoughts he had in the car on the way there.
Both men took seats. Stanley, a man Ian was used to looking like an overworked professor with a child-like curiosity for the world around him, held a completely serious and cold expression on his face. “Hello, Ian. I’m sorry you had to find out this way.”
“Find out this way? Find out what? What are you talking about?” Ian struggled to keep his temper in check. “You two need to give us some answers right now.”
“We will. Just keep calm and don't make a scene. Alright?” Stanley motioned for him to keep his volume down.
Stanley took a longer look at Eva. “It’s incredible, Marcus. She’s not aged a day.”
“What? Aged since when? Who are you? I don't even know you!” Her breaths were coming fast and ragged.
“Maybe here isn't the best idea.” Stanley spoke to Marcus before turning to the couple. “The lab isn't far from here. There’s an office and a conference room. We can speak there. Plus, I can show you some of what you’ll need to see to understand.” He had a sense of ease in his suggestion, a certain feel as if he didn’t think his request would be taken as dangerous.
Ian stood, slamming his hands down on the table. “Tell us what exactly? Because you’ve not told us anything. And after what you did to Eva already, Marcus, we’re not going to some lab with either you. And you, Stanley. How the hell do you two know each other, and why are you even here?”
