“I must have passed out or something, because the next thing I knew I was alone in the room. I was slumped over on the couch and tried to lift my head to look around. Everything blurred as soon as I attempted to move. I’m not sure how long I was there by myself.
“All of a sudden, Gary’s face appeared above me. I tried to say something but couldn’t manage it. I could see Gary’s mouth moving, but the words came out as garbled noise. He turned to look at something. Then his face was replaced by Theresa’s. Her condescending smirk was still in place. She looked at me for a moment before reaching to my face and lifting my eyelids with her fingers. My loving wife moved closer and studied what she found under my eyelids. She turned her head and gave me the impression that she was talking. But again, all that I heard was some gibberish.
“It seemed like I passed out for some time. When I came to and was somewhat aware of my surroundings, Gary and Theresa were pulling me up from the couch. For some reason, I felt an overwhelming sense of euphoria. A smile stretched across my face as I exclaimed, ‘Okay, let’s get this party started!’ I’m not certain how clearly my words came out or if they came out as words at all. The only thing I remember was that all motion seemed to halt as I spoke.
“In my next moment of consciousness, I found myself behind the wheel of my BMW. I could smell Theresa’s perfume and then she was leaning over me fastening my seatbelt. I wanted to grab her arm, but no matter how hard I concentrated and willed my arm to move I could only manage to wiggle my fingers a little. The idea that she was standing outside the car but reaching inside to fasten my belt stuck me as funny for some reason and I heard the sound of my own laughter. Well, it was my laughter, but it sounded as though it was coming from a long way off. Then Theresa’s face was floating right in front of me. She smiled and kissed me on the forehead.
“That’s right, Louis, just sit back and enjoy the ride.” Theresa’s words dripped with sugary sarcasm and echoed through my mind.
“At that moment, it was as if a dam had broken, and many other sights and sounds rushed out to flood my senses. There was the sparkle of the silver BMW logo on my keychain dangling from the ignition. The even purr of the engine idling. Behind me through the rear window, a pair of headlights glared and cast a strange glow on the interior of my car.
“Then I realized that I was not alone in the car. There was something in the passenger’s seat next to me. The headlights glistened off the moist red patch showing through curly brown hair on back of Linda’s head. She was slumped over and not moving. The only thing holding her in place was the seatbelt stretched across her chest.
“‘Linda!’ I yelled without much volume and without any success at getting her to move. ‘Linda!’
“I may have lost consciousness again. I’m not sure. It doesn’t really matter I suppose. In the next moment of which I was fully aware, the car was moving. I could hear the crackling of the tires on gravel. The headlights were no longer illuminating the interior of the car. Everything was dark.
“I was later informed that everything was dark for me for almost three months. Anyway, I woke up in a hospital.
“The room was quiet except for the beeping of the machine monitoring my heart. I tried to move but immediately noticed that my hands were held to the silver rails on each side of the bed by dark brown leather cuffs. As much as I thrashed around, I could not free myself. I tried to call for help but could not manage anything louder than a whisper. My throat felt raw and dry. Finally, after I spent several minutes rattling the rails on the bed as forcefully as possible, an orderly passing by my room heard the noise and came in.
“I remember that he was a chubby young man with curly blond hair who did not look old enough to be out of high school much less working in a hospital. When the orderly saw I was awake and moving around, he looked like he was having a panic attack. His head swiveled in every direction looking for guidance. While his head was still moving, he said, ‘Uh, you’re awake! Okay! Stay right there! You’re awake!’ He rushed out of the room immediately after making that perceptive observation as to my state of consciousness.
“I was again alone to wonder just what had happened to me and how long I had been in this place. I did not have to wonder for long as the young orderly returned followed by a doctor and a police officer. The officer plopped down in a chair next to the door in a way which made it clear he was used to sitting there.
“’Ah, I see you are finally awake, Mister Stoaffer.’ The doctor stood very close to the bedside and looked down into my face. He was a tall man with black hair and sideburns. He looked very familiar to me. I’m not sure why but the idea I knew him suddenly consumed my thoughts. He was saying something and shining a little penlight into one of my eyes and then the other.
“Chad Everett! It finally occurred to me who the doctor resembled. It was Chad Everett from that medical show in the seventies. After satisfying my brain itch by answering the question, I was able to listen to what the doctor was saying. All of a sudden, I realized that he had stopped talking and was awaiting a reply from me.
“’I’m sorry, doctor. Could you … repeat … uh … your question and … could I get some water?’ At least, this is what I wanted to say. In reality, all that came out was a sound sort of like a cat hissing. But it seemed to be enough for Doctor Chad.
“’Orderly, go get a cup of ice chips for Mister Stoaffer,’ he said to the young man who left quickly.
“’Now then, Mister Stoaffer,’ the doctor said as he held my wrist to check my pulse, ‘can you tell me how you got here?’ He glanced over at the officer as he asked the question.
“At that time, my recollection was very fuzzy. The memories that I shared with you about going to Gary and Linda’s house for dinner and everything that happened afterwards did not comeback until much later. At the moment of Doctor Chad’s inquiry as to my recall of the events leading up to my arrival at the hospital, I had no memory, or more accurately my brain was repressing memories.
“’Well’, I started to croak out, ‘I remember … I … uh … It was then I discovered the big hole in my memory and frustration overwhelmed me.
“The doctor clearly saw the difficulty I was having and remarked, ‘That’s all right. The memory will come back. For now, your brain is simply protecting you from the further pain the memories might cause.”
“He watched me for a moment presumably deciding whether or not continue. Finally, he asked, ‘So do you know what year this is?’
“‘Two thousand three!’ I responded with childlike joy at being able to give the correct answer.
“’That’s right!’” Doctor Chad replied with the delight of a teacher whose weakest student has given the correct answer. ‘Now, Mister Stoaffer, do you remember your address?’
“‘Of course, I live at…umm…’ The words I had expected to roll out of my mouth were missing. ‘My address is … uh …’
“The doctor saw my difficulty and said, ‘That’s okay. Don’t try to force it. The memory doesn’t react well to force. It will come back when and if it’s ready. How about your wife? Can you tell me her name?’
“‘Theresa!’ A picture of my wife flashed into my mind. ‘My wife’s name is Theresa!’
“Doctor Chad looked down at something on his clipboard for a moment before answering, ‘Yes, very good, Mister Stoaffer!’
“After a few minutes of quizzing, the orderly returned with a cup of ice chips and a short man in a wrinkled brown suit. I didn’t have too much curiosity about the cup of ice. The short man in the wrinkled brown suit was another matter.
“As I was released from my restraints and sat up to begin pouring the ice chips down my raw sore throat, he stood near the door as if waiting to be invited to proceed further.
“The doctor stepped closer to me as he said, ‘You should take it slowly. Otherwise, you’re going…’ Before he could finish his sentence, I gagged on the ice and began choking. ‘…to choke.’
“He took the cup out of my ha
nd and told me to breathe deeply and slowly. As soon as I calmed down, the choking stopped. ‘You’re going to have to take it slowly for a while. Your body is adjusting.’
“I looked at the doctor and asked in my weak, hoarse voice, ‘Adjusting to what?’
“Before Doctor Chad could answer, the man in the wrinkled light brown suit standing near the door spoke, ‘Doc, it might be helpful if I answer that question.’
“The doctor turned toward him and nodded. This seemed to be the invitation for which he had been waiting. He strode quickly to the bedside. ‘Welcome back, Mister Stoaffer. I am Detective Columbus, and before we talk I need to read you your rights.’
“To say I was stunned and confused at that point would be an extreme understatement.”
Stoaffer stared off into the distance for a while before continuing, “Think about my position. I had awoken in a hospital with no memory of how I got there, was unable to recall my own home address, and had just been informed that I was under arrest. The whole thing felt more than a little surreal. Like maybe something out of an old B-grade movie.
“Detective Columbus recited the whole spiel about having the right to remain silent and so forth. I can’t honestly say I heard much of what he said, but my answer was yes when asked if I had understood everything.
“’Detective, as this man’s doctor,’ Doctor Chad interrupted. ‘I must request that your questions be kept to a minimum with no effort made to coerce answers. Mister Stoaffer’s condition is stable but remains guarded.’ Neither man could keep from grinning and glancing toward the officer at the unintentional pun.
“‘Doc, I understand you’re looking out for your patient and all, but you need to understand that my investigation has been on hold for nearly three months waiting for this man to wake up.’
“It took a moment for the detective’s mention of three months to sink in. Could it really be possible that I had been in this place for three months? The idea was too much to accept, and without realizing it, I started shaking my head. It suddenly became urgent to get out of that room. I rolled toward the railing on the side of the bed and attempted to lift myself over it. Obviously, my thoughts were a jumble. Until then I had not noticed the IV tubes running out of my arm or the catheter tube connected to my penis.
“The doctor and the orderly were immediately at the bedside moving me back to the middle of the bed. I tried to resist. However, in my weakened condition, the only effect this had was to bring a smile to the detective’s face.
“‘Is there some reason you don’t want to stay here to talk with me, Mister Stoaffer?’ His words came out with hardly a trace of sarcasm.
“I looked over at him standing a few feet back from the bed as I tried to form some response. ‘It’s impossible that I have been here for three months.’ I raised myself slightly to look at the doctor. ‘Doctor?’
“Doctor Chad was watching me closely. I could see that he was trying to gauge how his response would affect me. After a moment, he answered, ‘Yes, you have been in a comatose state for the past eighty-six days.’
“Eighty-six days! The words knocked me back and drained me of the little energy I had. It now strikes me as a little odd that eighty-six days seemed so substantial. In proportion, how significant is a mere eighty-six days to a lifetime of days? Anyway, that is how I look at it from the distance of years. At the time, when the eighty-six days missing were the previous eighty-six days, the stolen time seemed momentous.
“All of my frustration and confusion must have been showing itself in my face, because the doctor told Detective Columbus that his questioning was going to have to wait until I had some rest. The detective was clearly not pleased and started to say something but then stopped. Instead, he turned and muttered something to the officer before leaving. The officer stayed near the door staring blankly at me.
“I let my body drop back to the bed and was asleep within seconds. When my eyes opened again, I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but the detective had replaced the officer near the door.
“As soon as he saw that my eyes had opened, Detective Columbus was at the bedside. ‘Good morning, Mister Stoaffer. Remember me?’
“For some reason, I felt really happy to see him once again. Maybe it had to do with the idea of seeing something that looked familiar. Anyway, I smiled and nodded.
“‘Good.’ The detective smiled in return. ‘Mister Stoaffer, I need to ask you some questions. Do you think that will be okay?’”
“I nodded again.
“‘Okay, can you tell me what happened the night you were brought to the hospital?’
“This time there was no nodding. I tried to remember anything I could. Nothing. I squeezed my eyes tightly closed as if this would somehow extract the stubborn memories from my brain. The only thing I got was a throbbing pain appearing at the back of my head. The words of Doctor Chad came back to me; ‘The memory doesn’t react well to force’. I certainly had to agree with the good doctor. Finally, I opened my eyes and simply shook my head.
“‘No problem, Mister Stoaffer.’ The detective said in a friendly, comforting voice. ‘You’ve been through a lot. Got yourself a severe head trauma I’m told. A little memory trouble is to be expected. Maybe if I ask you some direct questions that will help you remember things. What do you think?’
“I remember thinking that amid all of my frustrating struggles with memory and everything it was nice to have someone helping me to make sense of things. I smiled at the detective and nodded.
“‘Great!’ It seemed like I had just made the detective’s day. ‘So, Mister Stoaffer, do you remember going to the home of Gary and Linda Blake?’
“At the mention of Gary and Linda, another smile came to my face. Images of many hours spent drinking, eating, talking, and laughing at their house floated through my mind. I was beginning to feel a little of myself coming back. It was a good feeling.
“‘You remember going to their house, don’t you?’ Detective Columbus commented with enthusiasm.
“I nodded to him.
“The detective also nodded and then asked, ‘So do you remember where you got the gun?’
“And just like that, all the smiles and warm memories and nods disappeared in a room that seemed to be spinning wildly. The mention of a gun could only mean that someone had been shot. I had no memory of any-thing like that. But then again, I had no memory of many things. I forced my eyes closed again and tried to squeeze out any memory that would explain the presence of a gun. All I found was darkness and more pain at the back of my head.
“‘I’ve never even held a gun.’ I managed to force out. Something else occurred to me just then. ‘Where is Theresa? She can tell you.’
“‘We’ll talk about your wife soon enough, Mister Stoaffer.’ The detective’s voice had lost a bit of its previous affability. ‘So you remember going to the home of Gary and Linda Blake, but you don’t remember the gun.’ This last part came out as a simple statement of fact. At the time, I had lost all ability to focus on anything being said.
“My mind was like some impenetrable fortress holding my memories. Until I managed to find a way inside that stronghold, I would be unable to make sense of life.”
Chapter 4
By the time Louis Stoaffer paused, it was nearly dark. I really do not remember ever being so wrapped up in a story. I had not even noticed the sun go down. Judging by Joey’s silence, he had also been engrossed in the tale. With the intermission, we both came back to our senses.
“Time to get goin’.” Joey announced as he got to his feet. His voice had its normal confident tone, but a sideways glance in my direction showed that he was feeling anything but normal.
Louis was standing on the same mound as when he had begun his story. “Yes, I agree. We need to continue our journey. There will be time to finish my story later.” He turned quickly and began walking toward the town.
I grinned at Joey and repeated in a deep voice, “We need to continue our journey, grasshoppe
r.”
We followed him down the hill.
In about fifteen or twenty minutes, we were standing under a flickering streetlight next to a dark, empty two-lane highway. The only movement was from the moths fluttering underneath the light. On the other side of the highway was a gas station and attached garage. It was one of those older full-serve places that had been converted to a bright green self-serve station with a mini mart. The conversion must have been the result of someone’s optimism about the place’s retail potential. Such optimism was clearly misplaced.
Something about crossing the road made me feel uneasy. The feeling did not come from any concern for traffic. There was none. It was more like the sense that crossing the empty road was another step in a journey to a place where I did not want to go. Joey would surely have called me a scared little girl if I said anything about my feeling. Even though, I knew this judgment was probably right, I could not ignore the sense of dread which had planted itself firmly inside of me.
“Well, we’re not going to get to San Pietro by standing here!” Louis announced and immediately began striding toward the station.
Joey and I trailed behind. I did not make a conscious decision to follow the old man. It was more like the idea of not following him never occurred to me.
That pretty much summed up how I had arrived at this moment in my life. No other option occurred to me. I never intended for phrases like armed robbery and accessory to murder to have some connection to my life. Not as though I had been living like a saint or anything like that. I had been involved in a couple of burglaries and had stolen a few cars. Nothing where anybody got hurt bad. Somehow my life had just moved along how it wanted to and I had never chosen a new direction.
Soul Hostage Page 5
