Finding Carrie

by C. E. Snyder

  “Oh, how old was he?” she asked, still playing with the tie.

  “He was nineteen,” he replied.

  “Oh, then why didn’t you adopt them?” she asked.

  “I am. We are in the middle of the paperwork, and it’s in the process.”

  “Oh, I see. Is it what the girls want?”

  “Yes, they are the ones who asked if I could adopt them,” he said with a smile on his face.

  “Oh,” she said with a sigh. A nurse and a man came in the room and interrupted them. “Sorry to interrupt, but Detective Jones wanted to ask some questions before you left,” the nurse said. “I told him that you didn’t remember anything, but he insisted.”

  “He can ask, but I don’t think I’m going to be much of a help to him,” Carrie said. The detective cleared his throat.

  “Mrs. Walsch, do you remember anything that happened, anything at all?” he asked, taking out a pad and pen from his jacket pocket.

  “My wife has amnesia. She doesn’t remember anything, not even who I am,” Isaac said angrily as he got out of the chair.

  “I know, but I have to ask,” he said. “Do you, Mrs. Walsch?”

  “No, but I wish I did,” she said, taking a deep breath and then letting it out. She also stretched her arms in front of her.

  “Okay,” he said, writing something down on the pad. “Mr. and Mrs. Walsch, when we first were here, we got a DNA sample from under Mrs. Walsch’s fingernails. We have a good match with a wanted criminal, but we don’t have any leads on where to find him yet. You dug that guy good. We got blood in the sample. Mr. Walsch, have you heard anything about where your mother might be?” he asked.

  “No, I haven’t, but I have to focus on my wife at this time. Although I am worried about her, my wife is my first concern at this time. You would have to speak to my family. I trust that you have spoken to them?” Isaac asked.

  “Yes, of course I have. Well, thank you. I have no more questions to ask,” the detective said. “I sure hope you get you memory back.”

  “Me too,” Carrie said.

  “Have a good day,” the detective said. He nodded and left the room.

  “Why do they keep asking me these questions when they know I don’t remember anything?” she asked sadly.

  “I don’t know. Maybe they think that if they keep asking, they might get you to remember something,” Isaac said.

  The nurse brought in the wheelchair. “Are you ready to go home?” she said, pushing the chair into place.

  “I guess,” Carrie said. She reached for Isaac’s hand that was raised for her. She felt wobbly as she got into the chair. She had to lean on Isaac for support. It felt so right for her, she did it without thinking. She only wished that she remembered him and the love that everyone told her about. As he pushed her out of the room toward the elevator, she couldn’t help but wonder what it was like to be loved by him. He certainly showed her, but she couldn’t recognize it.

  When the elevator door closed, Isaac got down in front of her, resting on his shins. He pulled her hood over her head. “Put these on, and when we get off the elevator, keep your hand in front of your face. I will take care of the rest,” he said and slipped some sunglasses on her face.

  “Why do I have to do that?” she asked, looking up at him though the dark glasses.

  “I will explain when we are in the car,” he said just as the doors opened. She did what he told her, and he pushed her out the door. Just before they reached the door, Isaac bent down. He whispered something in her ear. Aishite imasu. She didn’t recognize the words, but they were somewhat familiar to her.

  They continued out the door. That is when the flashing started, and the people yelled and screamed her name.

  “Carrie, how are you doing?” she heard a voice ask. “Do you remember anything of the attack?” another voice asked. She didn’t say anything. She was confused. Why were these people coming at her with cameras and sticking things in her face? Isaac hurried as fast as he could through the crowd of reporters. She heard Isaac say, “No comment,” many times. She had to close her eyes from the flashes. She kept her head down and her face covered with her hands. She felt Isaac pick her up and put her in the car. Isaac hurried in and shut the door behind him. He looked over at her face. It was confused and worried at the same time.

  “What was that?” she managed to get out, as the car drove away.

  “Those were reporters trying to get your account on the attack,” he said casually.

  “But why would they want that?” she asked, noticing that it didn’t seem to worry him.

  “You are a famous writer, Carrie. This kind of thing happens a lot, especially when you’re releasing a new book,” he said with a shrug.

  “I’m a famous writer?” she asked with an excited look on her face.

  “Yes, you are,” he said, putting on his seat belt and making sure she did the same.

  “Wow.” She leaned back on the seat, wincing from the pain. She turned to look out the window and suddenly remembered the words he whispered to her. She turned her head and looked at him again. “What were those words you whispered to me when we were going out the door?” He turned his head up to her and she could see the worry in his eyes.

  “Do you remember them?” Isaac asked.

  “No, but they seem familiar,” she said, waiting for the answer.

  “They were Japanese,” he said. “I’m half Japanese.”

  “You are?” she asked with a tone of excitement. “I thought that your sister was something like that. You don’t look Japanese, though,” she said, looking closely at his eyes and then away.

  “Yeah well, I have my father’s eyes. I’m the only one who didn’t get my mother’s,” he said, looking down at her hand. It was inches away from his, and he scooped it up to hold it.

  “Oh yeah, I remember your father when he came to see me last night,” she said and looked back at him. “What do the words mean? Did I know them before?”

  “Yes, you did know what they mean, and we used to say them to each other all the time,” he said, looking back out the window. She pulled her hand out of his grip and forced his face back to look at her. He was avoiding telling her what the words meant, and she really wanted to know. They seemed to be something beautiful.

  “Isaac.” It was the first time she’d said his name since her attack. He loved the way she said his name, and he desperately missed it. “Tell me what the words mean. I really want to know.”

  “The words mean ‘I love you,’” he said, and then he turned to look out the window, not wanting to see her face.

  “Oh,” she said. She nodded and returned to look out the window.

  Chapter 8

  Pulling up to the entrance of the hotel, Isaac made a sound of disgust at the crowd waiting by the door. “They just don’t know how to stay away, do they?” Isaac asked, turning to look at Carrie. She was wide eyed at the crowd watching the car approach.

  “I’m that famous?” she asked, shifting her gaze to Isaac’s face.

  “Yes, you are,” he said. He had to come up with a plan and fast. “Stay in the car so I can get your family out to cover you. Man, I wish you had one of your bodyguards to help,” he said, reaching for the handle.

  “Why don’t I?” Carrie asked, grabbing for Isaac’s hand for the first time since she lost her memory. Isaac jumped at the touch of her and was taken back for a moment.

  “You don’t think it is necessary when you are not working,” Isaac said, savoring the touch that he was beginning to miss.

  “Oh,” she said. She let go of his hand. Isaac got out of the car. Carrie heard her name being called and saw camera flashes going off as Isaac shut the door. She sat quietly in the backseat, wondering just what kind of person she was. He had told her she was a writer. She didn’t think that was true, but the crowd outside the door waiting to get her picture had her wondering.

  Isaac was back quickly. He opened the door, making her jump, but he didn’t seem to no
tice. “The crowd is bigger than it looks, and there is really no room to move, but your family is making a small aisle to get you through. Do you think you can walk?” Isaac asked. Carrie’s legs felt weak, but she was willing to try. She nodded. “We will have to move fast,” Isaac said, opening the door and getting out, shielding her from the crowd outside. She heard screams again as she shifted to take Isaac’s hand. He pulled her out to her feet. Her legs were rubbery. Isaac put his arm around her for support. She stood there watching the crowd. Some of the faces were her family. They had their arms spread wide, trying to hold back the sea of people pushing to get closer to her. Flashes of light were blinding her. Her legs gave out, and Isaac quickly cradled her up and ran for the door. Her family slipped in after.

  “Wow! How do you live with that Carrie?” Melanie, Carrie’s older sister, asked without thinking. She put her head down after she realized what she said. “Never mind,” she said as she remembered that her sister had amnesia.

  “I’m going to take her to the room so she can shower and get fresh clothes on. See you all at dinner,” Isaac said, still holding Carrie in his arms. Carrie was holding onto his neck and her head was leaning against his shoulder. She felt safe with him, though she didn’t know why. Isaac loved the reaction she had with him. It was the same as always, but he looked into her eyes as he set her on her feet for a brief moment to unlock the door. Her eyes still looked lost, and that was heart breaking.

  He bent back down to take her into the room, but her hand went up. “Let me do it. I have to regain my strength,” she said, holding the wall as she slowly stepped forward. He felt rejected for a moment but knew what she said was true. He quickly turned away so she wouldn’t see the sadness in his eyes.

  She finally reached the bed and flopped herself down. “I want to sleep,” she said, her voice muffled by the blanket.

  “And I would let you, but you’re beginning to stink,” he said with a smile. She rolled over and sat up. He waited for the reaction, waiting for what she would have normally said, but she just looked at him. Then a smile crept onto her face.

  “Okay,” she said, lifting her arms. He expected her to smell herself and say ‘I do?’ but she didn’t, and that only meant she really didn’t remember anything.

  He took her hoodie off and reached down to pull her shirt off. “How do I live with that every day?” she asked as her shirt fell off her head.

  “Well, you would stand there and try to answer everyone’s questions and let them take your picture. It takes hours to get you into a building sometimes, but then again, sometimes it doesn’t happen at all. When you are working, you have a bodyguard. You’re such a caring and giving person. It’s one of the qualities that I love about you,” he said. After removing the rest of her clothes, he covered her in a towel. He took her to the bathroom and set her on the edge of the tub so he could fill it.

  “I wonder sometimes what kind of person I am.”

  “You are the sweetest, most loving, most caring person I have ever met, and you will be that person again,” he said as he lowered her into the tub. She didn’t say anything. She just let him wash her while she turned the words he used to describe her in her head. Could she really be that person he said she was, or was he trying to trick her into believing him? Everything about him screamed of how much he loved her, but without memories of her life, she didn’t know what to believe. She had some reasons to trust him, and she didn’t feel uneasy about him either. She just wished she could remember.

  She didn’t realize she was sliding down against the tub until she had sunk down under the water. Isaac quickly picked her up from under the water. He remained calm. “What are you doing?” he asked with his voice low. She looked up at him, blinking several times.

  “I don’t know. I was just trying to think over what you said,” she said, gripping his arms.

  “Oh, let me help you out,” he said, helping her rise out of the tub. “It’s almost time for dinner.”

  “Dinner?” she asked, stepping out of the tub. Isaac wrapped the towel around her again. “I’m not really hungry.” She was looking up at him now. He could tell she was hungry, and he was going to try to get her to eat.

  “You haven’t eaten anything all day, honey, and your family is waiting,” Isaac said, helping her back out of the bathroom. She wanted to argue, but when she looked into his eyes, she melted. What was it about him that made her react the way she did? It didn’t make much sense to her.

  She came out of the bathroom in a yellow sundress. He lost his breath at the sight of his beautiful wife, as she stood in the doorway of the bathroom. She looked at him with confusion. “You don’t like it?” she asked, looking down at the dress. He almost ran over to her. He wanted to touch her, but he refrained.

  “No, it’s not that. You look beautiful. You took my breath away. You always have,” he said. He wanted to kiss her and hold her like he always had, but he didn’t want her to reject him. She just passed by him and went to the mirror over the dresser. She turned to look at her profile. She spun around to look at her other side. Her face was twisted with confusion.

  “No, I don’t,” she said, looking at his refection in the mirror. He put his arms around her because he had no choice. He missed the closeness that they had together. Her eyes shot up in alarm, and she quickly moved away from him.

  “I’m sure that I allowed you to do that before, but I hardly know you. I know you just gave me a bath and all, but I’m not ready for that. I don’t know why I’m so comfortable with you, but that is going too far,” she said with her hand up, keeping space between them. Isaac was close to tears. He wanted too much to have her remember him, but he had to endure until she could.

  “I’m sorry, Carrie. I just couldn’t stop. I’m so used to touching you and loving you that I forgot for just a minute,” he said, looking down at her feet.

  “It’s okay, but please don’t do that again. I think it’s time for dinner, is it not?” Carrie asked, putting her arm down. Isaac looked toward the clock then looked back at Carrie’s face.

  “Yes, it is. I hope you can forgive me for my forgetfulness. I just miss what we had,” he said, trying to smooth out the hard edges of the last few moments.

  “Isaac, I have no reason not to forgive you. This is as hard for me as it is you. The only difference is that you remember and I don’t. I want to remember—I do—and I just don’t know why I can’t. I feel that you love me—I do—but I don’t know what it is I’m feeling. I’m lost, and I have to find me,” she said, walking toward the door.

  “And I promise to help you. I want to find you too. And yes, I do love you, and that will never change as long as the world keeps turning,” he said. He always reassured her with those words, and to Isaac, it felt that the world had stopped, or that the world was turning the other way. He didn’t know which, but he wanted it to go back to normal. She stopped and looked at him for just a second.

  “As long as the world keeps turning,” she said and then looked away. “Is it?”

  “Maybe, but I’m not sure anymore,” he said.

  Chapter 9

  Carrie just sat at the table, listening to the conversation and studying each face. Each time, she would go back to the man sitting next to her, the man who said he was her husband. She was growing to know him. Although she couldn’t remember him, something inside her told her that she loved him, and that frightened her. She was enjoying watching him laugh at the stories that the others were saying, but she really wasn’t paying attention to them. She was watching Isaac.

  “Do you remember the time Carrie tried to put on a poetry reading show?” Kate, Carrie’s mother, asked, laughing. “She wanted everyone to come downstairs and listen to her, and when no one wanted to listen, she ran away.” They all laughed at that memory of Carrie having a fit and running down the street.

  “Was I always writing?” Carrie asked, suddenly tuned in to the conversation. Her mother stopped laughing and looked at her daughter for the first t
ime. Everyone became silent. “I mean, Isaac said I was a writer. I was just wondering if that was what I always wanted to be.”

  “Yes, dear, since you first started to write. I still have your very first poem that you wrote when you were four,” Kate said, almost in tears. “What was it now?” she asked herself, tapping her chin with her finger, “‘I Love My Mom, and my Mom Loves Me.’ I treasure it,” she said, looking up at Carrie with a proud look on her face.

  “And do you know what happened to the girls’ father? Isaac said he committed suicide. No one knows why?” Carrie asked, looking at her daughters, whom she didn’t remember even being born. There was a long silence as Kate looked around before saying anything.

  “Well, we don’t know why but…” Kate said and broke off.

  “I didn’t tell you the whole truth. You do know why, Carrie. You were there, and you don’t like to talk about it,” Isaac said. “I didn’t tell you the whole story because I didn’t want to make you upset.

  “Well, tell me,” Carrie demanded. She wanted to know why the girls didn’t have their father. She was hoping it might help her remember.

  “You got a phone call that Jake was standing on Lookout Hill with a gun in his hand. He wanted to see you one last time,” Kate said.

  “So did I go?” Carrie asked.

  “Yes, and I don’t know the whole story. I wasn’t there, but I remember your face when you came home. I can still see the blood splatter all over you,” Kate said, tearing up at the memory. “You never spoke of what happened. You knew why, but you would never say. You spent three days lying in bed.” Carrie looked at her mother with confusion in her eyes.

  “I never said?” Carrie asked.

  “No, you wanted to keep it locked away,” Kate said, peering up with her head leaning down on her hands.

  “Were we together, or were we broken up?” Carrie asked.