STORM: IT'S A CURSE TO REMEMBER

by Gurpreet Kaur Sidhu

  As she waited for the elevator, Denise heard a woman sobbing. She looked down the hall and saw a middle-aged woman standing outside one of the rooms, wiping away tears. Denise’s heart sank. The woman looked helpless as she stood there, trying to pull herself together.

  Death.

  Denise was constantly reminded of death when she went to see Ryan. She didn’t see this building as a place where people came to be cured. To Denise, this was a place where people came to die. Lives ended here. Her perception of hospitals was molded by the tragic accidents her mother and father had been in when she was just a child. And now, it was Ryan.

  Denise stepped onto the elevator, feeling oddly nervous. The day of the accident came rushing back in bits and pieces. The arguments they had leading up to the accident were all too vivid. Everything flashed before her eyes, putting her back two months ago when she didn’t think Ryan was going to make it out alive.

  Exiting the elevator, she shook the thoughts away and took a deep breath. When she reached the doorway to his room, the sound of her heels caught Ryan’s attention.

  “Hey,” he said, pointing the remote control in the TV’s direction and pressing the green button. The screen went blank.

  Ryan’s deep-set hazel eyes gazed over at Denise. For the past few days, Ryan started growing a scruff. He ran his hand through his hair and sat up straighter.

  “Hey,” Denise replied softly, pulling the chair in the corner closer to his bedside. “How are you doing?”

  They looked at each other knowing very well how Ryan was doing.

  “I’m good. How about you?”

  “I’m…” She thought for a moment, not knowing how to answer the question. “Doing good,” she finally replied. “I brought some more pictures for you.”

  Denise unzipped her purse and pulled out a brown envelope containing a couple dozen photos of them in various locations and events. “These are the ones from when Nate was just born,” she said as she handed Ryan the envelope.

  Although a little irritated, Ryan remained calm and opened the flap, pulling out the pictures Denise had gathered. He flipped through them, analyzing each one carefully, moving onto the next with the hope it would trigger a memory that would help him recall his son. And just like the day before and the day before that, nothing. He shook his head as he put the pictures back into the envelope, handing it back to Denise. Ryan knew Denise was trying to help but it felt like a smack in the face every time he looked through the photos Denise brought along, not being able to recall that specific memory.

  She looked at Ryan with disappointment. Not that it was his fault, but because just like every day, she’d hoped today was the day Ryan remembered just a tiny piece of his life that he’d forgotten after the accident.

  Denise put the envelope back into her purse, and set it aside. “It’s okay, babe,” she said, reaching for his hand. She held on tight. “We can try again tomorrow. The doctor said it was going to take time. We just have to be patient.”

  “Yeah…”

  Denise gave his hand a squeeze. “What’s wrong? C’mon, talk to me.”

  He ran his fingers through his hair, thinking about Nate.

  “How the hell am I supposed to do this…?” he said, his words trailing off.

  “You’re not in this alone.”

  He turned to Denise, meeting her eyes. “I am alone in this,” he said agitated. “I don’t remember anything about my own son. My own son, Denise. How am I supposed to act around him? How do I treat him? What kind of relationship do we have? I don’t feel like a father, so how am I supposed to act like a father to a child that I don’t even know?”

  Denise’s heart sank. “I don’t know the answers to those questions, babe, but we’re going to get through this. We’ll get all the help we need. We’ll do whatever it takes to get your memory back. I promise.”

  He sighed. “It feels like empty hope. What if I don’t regain my memory? Then what?”

  Denise gripped tighter to Ryan’s hand with her own. She looked at him, sadness filling her eyes because she too feared life would never go back to normal. “The doctor said we should keep a positive attitude. We are going to get through this.” They had to.

  She kissed the top of his hand, staring off into the distance, reminiscing the night of the accident. Denise remembered that night with Ryan vividly as if it happened yesterday. It was an odd windy and rainy October Saturday night. Nate was upstairs in his room while she and Ryan were downstairs, cleaning up in the kitchen.

  “Do you want to watch some TV with me, like when we used to…maybe open a bottle of wine?” he had asked, putting the last dish in the dishwasher.

  “No. I’ve got some work I need to finish that I didn’t get around to back at the office.”

  Denise wanted to be alone that night. She knew Ryan would want to talk about having another baby because that was something he had been bringing up lately. Denise was not in the mood to have that conversation with her husband tonight.

  “You can do that later. We can watch Late Night with Jimmy Fallon,” he convinced. “You need to take some time out to relax.” He was leaning against the kitchen counter hoping for a “yes.”

  Denise started to walk away, and that’s when everything spiraled out of control.

  “So that’s it? This is what it’s come to?”

  “Ryan, I really don’t have the time for this right now,” she said, looking over her shoulder. “I’ve got a big project I need to finish.”

  “You never have time for anything these days. What’s really going on, Denise?”

  Denise turned around with rage in her eyes. “I don’t want to talk about having a baby. I’m sick and tired of having that conversation!”

  He looked at her funny. “Are you sleeping with someone else?”

  Her jaws clenched. “What?”

  “Are you having an affair?”

  “You’re insane!”

  “You’ve been ignoring me. You don’t make time to hang out. Every time I suggest we go do something, all you ever say is that you don’t have time. What the hell am I supposed to think? Yeah, of course I’m going to think you’re screwing someone else! Do you even love me anymore?” he asked.

  Denise could see the hurt and anger in his eyes but it had already gone too far before she could cool off and have a civil conversation. “Just shut the hell up! Shut the hell up!”

  “Why? Is it because I’m right? Is that why?”

  “Listen to yourself, Ryan. Do you even hear what’s coming out of your mouth right now?” Denise was still yelling at the top of her lungs. Her face, bright red, was filled with fury and her eyes stone cold. “You’re fucking insane. I don’t want to be anywhere near you.”

  “Oh that’s soo wonderful of you, cursing, with Nate in the house,” Ryan said with his temper now flaring. “You think being an anesthesiologist, working twelve, sixteen-hour shifts is easy? But—”

  “You think running a business is easy?! Are you kidding—”

  “Let me finish!” He shouted. “As husband and wife, we’re supposed to make time for each other. I’ve been trying for weeks just to get you to myself. You don’t even give a crap about me anymore.” Ryan looked at Denise in disgust and hurt.

  They stood in the kitchen, giving one another cold-hearted stares.

  “I’m so tired of being treated this way,” Ryan said coldly.

  Denise felt her throat closing. This was the first time in their marriage they’d argued like this. The stress Denise was carrying had taken a toll on the both of them and it was too late until she realized it.

  Ryan walked past her, looking at Denise dead in the eyes as he stomped through the front door. She felt paralyzed yet she could feel her body shaking. She wanted to move, but couldn’t. It felt as if her feet were glued to the ground. She stood there, trying to keep calm and together,
but as her emotions amplified, the harder it became to control the tears and the cry she held in.

  She slowly took steps toward the table. She pulled up a chair and sulked. She cried and whimpered. She placed her hand over her stomach where she had carried Ryan’s baby for ten weeks. She knew how much Ryan wanted to have another baby and all she wanted was to surprise him. She wanted to break the news in the most romantic way she could think of.

  They were supposed to have a candle-lit dinner and she was going to make his favorite meal. It was going to be perfect. Time, however, was not in her favor.

  Chapter 5

  After a forty-five minute drive, being stuck in slight traffic due to an accident, Evan finally pulled into Knight’s Drive. By the looks of it, everyone was asleep and the only lights that were still on were the streetlights. As Evan pulled up into the driveway, he spotted Mr. Brar, his next-door neighbor, sitting in his wheelchair out on the porch. He put the car in park, turned off the ignition, and opened the door.

  “Hey Mr. Brar,” Evan called to his neighbor, “you’re up pretty late.” He walked toward Mr. Brar’s house.

  The homes in Lake View were much more spaced out compared to the other neighboring cities. Lake View itself was a much older town. Most of the homes had been fully remodeled, inside and out. Some of the homeowners had installed pools in their backyards, perfect for the summer. The downside of living in Lake View was that it had become an expensive town. Few young couples had moved into Lake View in the past five years. Most of the families that lived here had bought the homes years ago when the market had been down.

  Mr. Brar was a Sikh who wore a black turban as a symbol of his faith. He never ate meat or drank alcohol. His beard was short and silver. And every time he smiled or laughed, crow’s feet appeared. He dragged his oxygen tank closer to his chair, making room for Evan to sit.

  “I couldn’t sleep,” he replied in his raspy voice. “You’re coming home so late. You had a date tonight? Or was there a new club opening in downtown? I don’t know what you kids do these days to be honest.”

  “No, I wasn’t on a date or at a club,” Evan said, chuckling. “It was Denise’s turn to host brunch. I was there most of the day. Then she went to the hospital afterward to visit Ryan. I was on babysitting duty,” he said, with a partial smile.

  “How is my little girl doing? How’s Ryan?”

  Evan hesitated. “She’s doing the best she can. She’s a strong woman. Ryan’s getting better over the days, but he still doesn’t remember Nate.” He sighed. “You can only hope for the best at this point.”

  “I can’t imagine. Are the doctors doing everything they can to help him?”

  “Yeah, they are.”

  “And how’s the little one doing?”

  “He misses his dad,” he said, gazing out into the brightly lit street. “Denise still hasn’t told him that Ryan lost some of his memory.”

  “When is she planning on telling him?”

  He shrugged, not knowing exactly what Denise’s plans were. “She’s hoping that Ryan starts to remember so she won’t have to explain all that other stuff to Nate. It reminds me of when we lost our parents,” he said, gathering his thoughts. “I don’t think she wants Nate to go through what we went through, I guess, in a way.”

  Memories flashed in Evan’s mind of his parents. He remembered bits and pieces. His father always wore a suit to work. The first thing Evan would do when his dad came home from work was run into his arms. He remembered his mother working around the house, singing to herself every now and then.

  “Our loved ones will always be missed. Everything they leave behind is associated with some kind of memory. I can’t even look at a book without remembering Ekam. She knew how much I loved it when she read out loud and sometimes I’d fall asleep,” he said, laughing. “Some books I didn’t find interesting,” he said, quickly defending himself. He chuckled under his breath.

  Evan witnessed on many occasions Mr. Brar and his wife enjoying lunch on the porch, laughing as if they were on their first date. She would wipe his mouth with her napkin and plant a kiss on his cheek. Sometimes they would sit together, silently, just enjoying each other’s company. Evan witnessed true love. It had been almost two years since Mrs. Brar had passed away.

  “I miss Ekam so much,” he said, looking up at the stars, “but they’re always here with us in spirit,” he added, breaking into a smile.

  The moon’s glow shined across Mr. Brar’s olive skin, making the sadness visible in his eyes.

  “It gets easier, Mr. Brar,” Evan offered.

  “Sometimes I think she’s gone on vacation. I wait for her every day knowing she’s not going to come back but yet I hope.” He paused for a moment, wiping away a tear. “A little part of me doesn’t believe Ekam’s really gone, but she really is gone.”

  Evan reached for Mr. Brar’s hand and held it. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. It was all he could say.

  There was nothing anyone could say or do that would heal a broken heart. It had to happen on its own pace.

  As midnight approached, Evan looked over at Mr. Brar.

  “Mr. Brar,” Evan said, yawning, “I’m gonna head home.”

  Evan rose from the porch, brushing his backside off of dust.

  “All right son, rest well.”

  “Aren’t you going to sleep?” Evan asked, stepping down.

  “In a bit,” Mr. Brar said with a smile. “Did you know a moving van came today?”

  “Oh yeah?” Evan’s eyes flicked to his neighbor’s house.

  “I saw them hauling in more furniture, but I didn’t get the chance to see who the new movers were,” Mr. Brar said, a little disappointed.

  He yawned. “I should go say hi sometime,” he said, walking off the porch. Evan waved goodbye, leaving Mr. Brar on the porch.

  As Evan walked into his home, Mr. Brar looked out into the corner of the street, away from the streetlight’s reach. A black sedan had been parked there earlier in the afternoon. Until now, there hadn’t been any movement all day. The headlights switched on and the vehicle slowly drove down Knight’s Drive. Mr. Brar watched as the sedan passed by his house, realizing what was going on.

  After the sedan was in the distance, Mr. Brar wheeled his way back into the kitchen, where the phone lay on the table. He picked it up and pressed the speed dial.

  Mr. Brar held the phone close to his ear as it rang, feeling intense and anxious. After six rings, he heard breathing on the other end.

  “It’s only me, Bhuhadar.”

  “Hi, Mr. Brar,” Bruce replied on the other end of the line.

  Mr. Brar faced the window from the living room, just in case the black sedan decided to make another trip. “It’s been a while since the last time we talked, huh. How’ve you been, Bruce?”

  “There have been better days.” There was silence for a moment. “I’m sensing there is something urgent…”

  “I think someone from the agency has Evan under their radar.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “A young girl, probably around the same age as Evan, moved in next door to him about a month ago. Around the same time, I noticed the black sedan here and there. I’ve been keeping an eye out, making sure nothing’s out of the ordinary. But I have a feeling his neighbor isn’t the only one that’s on their radar.”

  “I can’t start a personal assignment unless you’re a hundred percent sure. It’s going to raise questions, Mr. Brar. Evan can’t be on anyone’s assignment.”

  “I know, I know, but I don’t have a good feeling about this, Bruce. The timing of it all…I know he’s on their radar. I can just feel it.”

  There was a long sigh from the other end of the line.

  “I’ve looked out for Evan like my own son,” Mr. Brar said. “Once the agents from the Secret Eye Agency get involved, you know there’s nothing much I
can do to help him.”

  “Yeah, I know.” He paused for a moment, knowing that interfering with another agent’s assignment was never allowed before getting an approval. “Look, I’m going to search up the ongoing assignments in the system and if I come across Evan’s name, then we’ll know for sure.”

  Bruce entered his access key and pin enabling him to log into the system to access all the missions and assignments the agents were currently working on.

  “I’ll wait on the line as you do that.”

  Bruce entered Evan’s name into the database to find any assignment associated with his name. Only one popped up. Bruce eyes’ scanned over to the right, looking at the location and to Bruce’s dismay, Knight’s Drive was listed as the address.

  “You’re right,” he said, feeling faint. “Evan’s on their radar but I don’t know why.” He looked under Evan’s name to find what stage the assignment was on. “He’s under stage one right now.” Bruce slammed his fist on his desk.

  Mr. Brar sat in his wheelchair. His heart sank. Flashbacks of his time at the agency brutally reminded Mr. Brar of what agents were capable of.

  “This is only stage one, so they’re just checking him out right now. But you have to put an end to this, Bruce. The longer this assignment stays open, there’s a higher chance of it moving up to stage two.”

  There was a long pause on Bruce’s end as he sat there, in front of his computer. His eyes were fixated on the purple dot next to Evan’s name.

  “I gotta see what the hell is going on. Just look out for Evan for me, Mr. Brar. I’ll keep you updated.” Bruce hung up, putting his cell phone back into his pocket.