Memory's Edge: Part One

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Memory's Edge: Part One Page 3

by Gladden, DelSheree


  With it being her first year teaching on her own, it had been chaotic. That day had been no exception. She vented her stress by telling John about the flamboyant English teacher who spilled coffee all over Gretchen’s shoes before first period, about the sophomore who started crying and ran out of the room when she reminded her class they would be dissecting frogs the next week, and the senior who kept leaving Hershey Kisses on her desk in the hope of her bumping his borderline failing grade up to an A.

  “But the absolute worst part of the day, and the reason I was late leaving, was getting a call from the office to come down and speak with a parent just as I was about to walk out the door,” Gretchen said. “I really do enjoy teaching, but sometimes the parents are too much. This woman stood there like she was going to attack me, and I had no idea who she was or what she wanted. To be honest, I was a little scared.”

  If the principal hadn’t been standing there to back Gretchen up, she might have just kept walking. Gretchen didn’t like confronting parents. It rarely ended well. Looking over at John, she felt a smile creep onto her lips. Normally, she told Carl about her bad days, but things had been tense between them lately. Gretchen couldn’t help wonder if John would always try to fix her problems, or just let her vent like he did now. Would things be different when he woke up and they could tell each other about their days?

  Pulling back, Gretchen shook herself. What was she doing? The past few days she had found herself daydreaming about when John woke up. She would be in the middle of a lecture and find that her thoughts had strayed from the structure of a cell to what his eyes would look like when he finally opened them. During lunch on Thursday, the bell startled her out a dream about him waking to find Gretchen by his side, knowing she had been the one to take care of him.

  It was childish. The kind of thing she would see on one of those awful Lifetime for Women movies, unbelievable and sappy. She realized that, but John filled her thoughts. He might never wake up. He could spend the rest of his life lying in a hospital bed. And even if he did wake up, Gretchen had no idea what kind of person he was. He could be a criminal for all she knew. She was fantasizing about a man in a coma, for crying out loud.

  “I’m being ridiculous, completely delusional,” she said to herself. “Maybe I shouldn’t even be here.”

  Gretchen told herself that so many times that week, but the same thing happened every time she thought about stepping away. She move closer to John’s bedside and started talking. Walking away from him was something she couldn’t bring herself to do. She wouldn’t let him wake up alone.

  Steadying herself, Gretchen went back to her story as if nothing had happened. “So anyway, the mom who wanted to talk to me, she was mad because her daughter missed class last week when I gave a test, and I wouldn’t let her make it up because her absence wasn’t excused,” she said, trying to stay focused on what she was talking about and nothing else.

  Maybe John would have laughed at her story of the mom forced to admit that her ditching daughter did not deserve a chance to retake the test. Or perhaps he would have thought Gretchen was awful for not letting the poor girl have a second chance. There was no way to know, but Gretchen found herself able to laugh at what she had found so terrifying at the time. Deciding John might be tired of listening to her, Gretchen took a folder out of her bag and stared at the stack of homework assignments which still needed grading.

  Looking over at John, she suddenly didn’t mind that it would take her several hours to finish.

  Gretchen was halfway through the stack of papers when Lynn popped her head into the room. “Hey, Gretch, you wanna go grab a bite in the cafeteria?”

  Gretchen really needed to tell her how much she hated being called Gretch. Lynn was so sweet, she couldn’t bring herself to say anything. Dropping her pen, Gretchen stood up and stretched.

  “That sounds great.”

  Reaching for her purse, she was grateful the hospital’s cafeteria was closer to a café than the typical hospital food. Gretchen turned away from John just as she heard a sound that stopped her heart.

  Chapter Five

  Waking Up

  Lynn spun back around and stared at Gretchen. She was still looking at her, too afraid to turn around and see if what she had just heard was real.

  “Did he just say something?” Lynn asked.

  “I…I’m not sure,” Gretchen said.

  Lynn marched toward John. Gretchen forced herself to turn around and look at him as well.

  He looked exactly the same. Eyes closed, bandages and tubes in place, leg up in traction. Had she just imagined it? No. Lynn heard it, too. Lynn checked all his vitals, reviewed the printouts from the machines, and watched John. So did Gretchen. More like she searched every inch of his body for a clue that he might be waking up. The beeping heart monitor was the only sound in the room. Every passing minute drained her hope.

  Sinking back into the chair, Gretchen brushed her fingers across his hand, hoping…. She gasped as his fingers curled up in reaction. “Lynn! He moved,” she exclaimed.

  Lynn scurried around to Gretchen’s side and looked at the loose fist John’s fingers had made. “What did you do?”

  “I just touched his hand and he pulled away.” Reaching out, she touched his hand again. His hand relaxed and a low moan escaped his lips.

  Pressing the nurse’s call button, Lynn asked for one of the other nurses. Maria bounded into the room less than ten seconds later. “Is he waking up?” she asked.

  “Gretch, touch him again,” Lynn commanded. To Maria, she said, “Watch the heart monitor.”

  Taking John’s hand once more, Gretchen watched the monitor, too. His pulse rate jumped up as she touched him. His fingers attempted to wrap around hers, but seemed too stiff or weak to actually complete the motion. Tears rolled down Gretchen’s cheeks as she squeezed his hand. “Wake up, John,” she whispered.

  “Should I get Dr. Marshall?” Maria asked Lynn.

  Lynn nodded. “Yeah, he’ll want to see this.” Maria hurried out of the room and Lynn moved closer to Gretchen. “He may stay like this for a while. This is a great sign, but he may not fully wake up yet.”

  “I know,” she said. “I’m just so glad to have some sign that he might wake up.”

  “I know you do, honey. Just keep faith and be patient.”

  Dinner was forgotten by both Gretchen and Lynn. Gretchen went back to watching while Lynn started a more detailed check of John’s vital signs and stimuli responses. She reached up to check the dilation of his pupils right as his eyelids fluttered open. Lynn jumped back, her hand coming to her throat as she tried to stifle a yelp. Gretchen stood up and leaned closer, watching as his eyes slowly opened and closed without really seeing.

  His lips parted and moved, but only dry, rasping sounds emerged. “He needs some water,” Gretchen said to Lynn. “Can he have some water?”

  “I’ll get some ice chips.”

  His eyes and mouth closed again, but Gretchen watched the fingers of his right hand wriggle in slow, testing movements. His left hand stayed wrapped around Gretchen’s. Locked in that stage of waiting, it wasn’t until the hurried squeak of Lynn’s tennis shoes brought her back into the room that John tried to open his eyes again. Dr. Marshall and Maria followed right behind, and they all watched as John’s eyes finally opened completely to stare at them.

  He tried to speak again, but his dry throat refused to cooperate. Lynn gently pressed an ice chip to his lips and he accepted it. In a hushed voice, Lynn quickly relayed what had been happening. Dr. Marshall nodded and approached John.

  “My name is Dr. Marshall. Do you know where you are?” he asked John.

  John’s eyes roamed around the room before settling back on Dr. Marshall. “No,” he croaked after several failed attempts at speaking. His voice was harsh and raspy, but Gretchen loved finally hearing it.

  “You’re in a hospital,” Dr. Marshall said. “Do you know what happened to you?”

  Frowning in thought, Jo
hn remained quiet for a few moments before shaking his head. His eyes squeezed shut and Gretchen immediately worried the movement had hurt him.

  Dr. Marshall sighed. “Well, unfortunately, neither do we. This young woman over here found you in the middle of the road. It looked as if you’d been attacked by someone, or more likely, by several someones. As it is, we don’t even know who you are, either. You were brought with no identification whatsoever. But, now that you’re awake, we can get your information and let your family know where you are.”

  “Who…I am?” John asked. He let his head fall back to the pillow and closed his eyes.

  “Yes. We need to get your name, address, insurance information, so we can get you taken care of and sent home. One of the nurses will take everything down.” Dr. Marshall turned to Maria as he said, “Why don’t you set up another MRI, and let’s get him a consultation with the physical therapist.”

  Maria nodded and was about to leave when John spoke and stopped her. “Wait.” He shook his head again, slowly. “You don’t…know who I am?”

  Dr. Marshall frowned, his ever present weariness showing plainly. “No, I don’t. No one does. Miss Gesner found you and brought you in with no identification. Just tell Lynn your name and we’ll get this cleared up.”

  “I can’t,” John said, trying but not succeeding in lifting his hand.

  “And why is that?” Dr. Marshall said.

  “Because…I don’t know,” John said. “I don’t know what happened…or who I am. I can’t remember anything.”

  Lynn had an odd half-smile on her face, like she was waiting for John to say he was kidding. Maria looked confused, and Dr. Marshall’s face turned up to the ceiling, as though he couldn’t believe his bad luck. Gretchen didn’t know what to do or think. A few minutes ago her hope that she would truly get to know the man she had been watching over all week seemed to have been reached, but now she realized she knew more about him than he did.

  Overwhelming sadness filled her. It wasn't for herself, but for him. He had nearly lost his life, and now he had just woken up to discover that his life was the only thing he had left. Whatever else once encompass his world was now gone, stolen away by whoever nearly killed him.

  What was he going to do?

  Realizing there was a whole discussion going on around her, Gretchen came out of her thoughts and tried to pay attention. Dr. Marshall was arguing with Maria and Lynn about what to do next. Maria thought she should still order the MRI, while Dr. Marshall wondered if they should speak to the hospital director first. No memory meant no insurance. Lynn looked ready to deck the doctor at the suggestion they postpone treatment because of John’s situation. Dr. Marshall backpedaled, claiming he only meant they should let the director know what was going on first.

  Their conversation hadn’t been worth tuning into. It was a county hospital. They would have to keep and treat John until he was well enough to go home. Home. What would that even mean for him? The thought of being turned out with nothing was terrifying. Looking over at John, she saw worry in his eyes, too. There was little doubt in her mind that he was wondering the same thing she was.

  “Hey,” Gretchen said to him, “are you all right?”

  “I…don’t know,” he said. “I feel awful. My whole body hurts.”

  “Well, you look a million times better than when I first saw you,” she said. She squeezed his hand lightly, making sure she didn’t cause him any more pain. “You’re getting better, though. It will just take a while.”

  John stared at their linked hands. His eyebrows furrowed as if he was wondering why her hand was there. Or he might have been in pain. Gretchen suddenly had a very strong desire to pull her hand away and try not to blush. What was he thinking about her?

  “You found me?” he asked.

  Gretchen nodded. His eyes closed again. For a long moment, he said nothing. He seemed to be taking his time, maybe trying to focus his mind on the words he wanted to say. It took him a while to get everything organized.

  “But you didn’t see what happened to me, and you don’t know who I am?” he asked.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t. When I found you, you had already been attacked. I don’t know what happened,” Gretchen said. He didn’t have a lot of hope to begin with, but what little he did have seemed to dissolve at her answer. She wondered if the reality of his situation was beginning to sink in.

  “What are you still doing here?” John asked suddenly.

  Gretchen couldn’t stop herself from pulling her hand away. It was hardly the reception she’d been hoping for. All week she had imagined what John would say to her when he finally woke up. “What are you still doing here?” hadn’t even been on the list. Gretchen could feel her face heating, so she looked down at her jeans and mumbled, “I just wanted to make sure you were going to be okay.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that,” John said, shaking his head again. “My head…it’s hard to focus and think straight. I just meant, why would you stay when you don’t even know me?”

  Looking up, Gretchen scanned his face, trying to gauge whether or not he meant it. If he didn’t want her there, she wouldn’t force herself on him. Seeing honesty in his face, she let herself relax. Maybe he didn’t think she was a stalker after all. Gretchen was about to answer his question when Dr. Marshall stepped up to the foot of the bed and interrupted.

  “In addition to the MRI and the consult with the physical therapist, we’re going to schedule you an appointment with the neurologist here in town, and if necessary, up to Albuquerque for additional testing when you’ve recovered enough.” Dr. Marshall glanced over at Maria and shooed her off to make the calls. Gretchen stifled a smile as Maria sneered at his back before leaving.

  “We’ll keep you here for another day or two to monitor you and run a few more tests, but most of your injuries are healing nicely. As long as your tests results come back normal, we should have you out of here in a couple of days,” Dr. Marshall said to John.

  “A couple of days?” John said. “Where am I supposed to go after that?”

  With a shrug that showed he didn’t have the answers John wanted, Dr. Marshall said, “I don’t know,” and walked out of the room.

  Chapter Six

  Alone

  John watched him walk out, his complexion changing shades, deepening to a mottled red. Mixing with the bruises running down his face, the result was a startling rainbow of fear and anger. Gretchen didn’t know what to do. It was all turning out to be very different than she’d imagined it would be. That shouldn’t have been surprising, but it was. She was still trying to decide how to help John when Lynn beat her to it.

  “Don’t get too worked up over Dr. Compassionate. If he doesn’t piss off at least five of his patients a day, he doesn’t feel like he’s doing his job right. And I will give you a hundred dollars if you can find a single nurse that doesn’t want to kill him in his sleep,” Lynn said with a smirk.

  “In his sleep?” John mumbled.

  “Well, we are nurses. If we were going to kill someone, we’d have to make it as painless as possible,” she said. Her smile widened to a grin. “That is our job after all.”

  John’s lingering anger fell away as he chuckled, careful not to move anything and bring on more pain. Gretchen wanted to hug Lynn for making him feel better, even though a swift pang of jealousy that she hadn’t been the one to take away his anger tried to crowd its way in.

  “And don’t get too worried about what will happen when they release you from the hospital just yet,” Lynn continued. “Patient Services will be able to help get you what you need. And whether you know it or not, you have a few friends who won’t let you walk out of here without making sure you’re going to be all right.”

  Lynn’s gaze drifted over to Gretchen and that sneaky smile she always wore when she talked about her son crept onto her lips. She was hatching something, and Gretchen had a pretty good idea of what it was. Lynn knew Gretchen was single and infatuated with Joh
n. No wonder she smiled when she talked about her son. He obviously got his mischievous streak from her. Gretchen tried to keep from acknowledging she had any clue what her friend meant as she watched her pat John’s less-injured leg and promise to be back to get him for his MRI in a few hours.

  Sitting in silence, John and Gretchen didn’t even look at each other. Did he guess what Lynn had been thinking? She started looking around the room in an effort to avoid his gaze. She really hoped he was thinking about something totally different. He had plenty of other problems to think about anyway, such as having no idea who he was or how he ended up here. That alone was enough to occupy a person’s mind for quite a while.

  When she looked back at John, it turned out he wasn’t thinking of anything at all. He was asleep. Seeing his eyes closed and his body still once again sent a momentary jolt of panic through her. He wouldn’t fall back into a coma, would he? Unable to resist, Gretchen poked his hand softly. The sight of his fingers moving reassured her. Once the initial wave of anxiety ebbed, she realized his eyes were moving around under his eyelids, the corner of his mouth twitching. The slow shift of his head into a more comfortable position told her he was only sleeping.

  Sitting back in her chair, but keeping her hands to herself, she kept a close eye on John as he slept. Everyone else was busy scheduling tests and tending other patients. No one disturbed him. It was several hours before his eyes struggled back open and found their way to Gretchen.

  “Did I fall asleep?” he asked, looking chagrined. Gretchen nodded. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry. You’ve been through a lot. Sleep as much as you want.”

  His non-casted hand reached up to rub his eyes. Either the bruises on his hand, or his face, made the motion too painful. He winced and gently set his hand back on the bed. “Thanks for staying,” he said. “It was strange enough waking up here like I did. Waking up alone…I don’t know. It would have been worse…I think.”

 

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