by Lakes, Lynde
Every day Darli hoped he would return…at least to get his possessions. Then she’d know he was all right. What if the California amnesia patient was Cortz and he wasn’t an alien at all? It was a long shot, but she had to check it out. She called the local police again and asked how she could reach the amnesia victim. All they had was his name and the name and department of the policeman who had identified him.
Her call to California got her nowhere. The victim, Gregory Harris, wasn’t listed, and the policeman, John Moore, was attending riot-control training and wouldn’t be available for several days. Disappointed, she left her number.
When Moore finally returned her call several days later, he was evasive. At her insistence, he did agree to pass her name on to the victim’s sister. It would be up to the sister to get in touch with her, he’d told her curtly.
Darli walked to the window. The sky had darkened; a storm was gathering. Even if the victim wasn’t Cortz, it would have eased her mind to have known for sure.
As the days went by, she worried increasingly about having all those diamonds in her closet. Finally she put them in a brown paper bag and took them to her safe deposit box.
She didn’t hear anything from Harris’s sister. As one month blended into the next, she had to accept it…Cortz wasn’t coming back. If it wasn’t for the diamonds and his bag in the closet, she might have questioned if he’d ever existed. But as long as she had the diamonds and the silver bag, she had proof that he was real…and a tiny measure of hope that he would return.
To distract herself from her deep concern and sense of loss, she stayed busy. Work was a double-edged sword. It was her salvation yet it was also a constant reminder of Cortz. Every planet, star, and especially the big full moon reminded her of him. And her heart ached every time she opened the closet and saw his belongings.
As the second month blended into the third, seeing his things daily became unbearable. She sealed his bag in a large box and pushed it to the back of her closet.
Hiding his things didn’t help.
She started dating again. That didn’t help either. It was always a disappointment.
She found herself comparing every man to Cortz and they always came out a big minus.
****
A narrow path of brassy afternoon sunlight fell across the edge of Commander Olsen’s desk. Dust particles tumbled in the brightness. Olsen shouted at Lt. Commander Ryker, “It’s been three months since the unidentified object was first sighted and you’re telling me to be patient!” He flicked the telephone log with his meaty fingers. “Over 5000 people called. With that number of people you must have found at least one lead.”
“Yes. The Grenlane woman.”
“Grenlane?”
“She was the one closest to where the UFO went into the water.”
“How do you know she isn’t just a nut who wants her name in the news?”
“Not likely. She’s an astronomer, teaches at the university. But Fox is checking her out thoroughly.”
“Forget her. Comb the damn water!”
“Sir, our forces are doing all they can. There’s just no trace.” Ryker looked pained.
“Double the forces and continue on a high security basis. The President doesn’t accept excuses and neither do I. There’s something out there, dammit! Find it!”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Darli sat at the dining room table grading students’ papers. It wasn’t her favorite thing to do on a sunny Saturday morning, but she hoped it would keep her mind off Cortz and her memory of the striking image of his eyes with the ruby glow, seducing her with every glance. Midway through the stack, she realized she was staring at nothing and dreaming of fulfilling the fires of passion still burning within her. It had been six months since Cortz disappeared. Time to give up and get on with her life.
She forced her attention back to the test papers in front of her.
A shrill telephone ring broke the morning silence.
“Hello,” Darli said, continuing to scan Leroy’s exam. It was obvious he hadn’t studied.
“Is this Darli Grenlane?” a woman asked, her tone crisp.
“Yes, this is she.” Darli marked a C minus on Leroy’s exam and reached for another.
“Miss Grenlane, I’m Dr. Helen Steina. I just arrived from California. You don’t know me, but I’m calling about Gregory Harris.”
“Gregory Harris?” Darli wrinkled her brow. The name sounded vaguely familiar…a chill slid down her spine. Oh my God…that was the name of the amnesia victim! Finally, after all these months. Darli shoved the stack of exams aside, giving her full attention to the caller. “Yes, yes. Did Detective Moore tell you I called?”
“No…” Dr. Steina said, drawing out the word. “When his sister brought Greg to the hospital, we found your business card in his pocket. Someone had penciled your home phone number on the back. The police must have overlooked it or they would have contacted you.”
Darli’s heartbeat quickened. If he had her number, it had to be Cortz! But the doctor had just called him Greg.
“Mr. Harris’s sister asked me to contact you.”
Darli twisted the phone cord around her finger. “His sister? I’m confused.”
“Can we meet and talk?” Dr. Steina asked. “It’s too complicated to discuss on the telephone. I could bring his picture by. You might recognize him.”
“Picture. Great! Can you come right away?”
When the doctor said she could, Darli’s felt like laughing and crying at the same time. Her hands trembled as she hung up the telephone. She left the door open while she waited. With clammy hands and a stomach tied in knots, she paced the floor, looked out the window, then paced some more. At the clatter of high heels on the concrete steps, Darli bounded forward and opened the screen door before Dr. Steina had a chance to press the bell. “Dr. Steina? Please come in.”
Dr. Steina, petite and erect, entered briskly, bringing a light floral aroma with her. “Thank you for seeing me on such short notice.”
Darli gestured to the couch and the doctor sat down, keeping that erect posture and an elegant grace. She was in her late thirties with shoulder-length auburn hair and intense blue eyes. She reached into her purse and pulled out a passport quality photograph. “Do you recognize this man?”
Darli stared at the colored picture of a dark-haired man with empty brown eyes and an expressionless face. His curly hair was long on his neck, and he looked different, but… Her body began to tremble. She felt the blood draining from her face. Her knees felt weak. She sank to the couch next to Dr. Steina.
“You know him, don’t you?”
“Yes…yes, it’s Cortz.” Unexpected tears pooled in her eyes and the photograph blurred. It had been Cortz the police found that day. All this time she’d been wondering… waiting. Darn that cop! If only he’d given the Harrises her message. It would have saved months of worrying. “You said he was in the hospital. Is he ill?”
“Mentally confused. I’m hoping you can help. That’s why I came.”
Her hopes lifted. Then he’s not an alien! A sickening chill washed over her. Instead, he’s mentally ill. “Exactly what’s wrong with him?”
“It’s complicated. Gregory Harris, or Cortz as you call him, is a very successful inventor and entrepreneur.”
“He’s an inventor?”
Dr. Steina nodded. “He owns Harris Inventions. Two years ago, while working on a new formula in the basement of his home, he left for a few moments to get a notebook out of his car. He didn’t realize the family’s cat had slipped in as he went out. From the evidence at the scene, fireman believed the cat knocked over a volatile solution. It exploded, and the house blew apart. He wasn’t injured, but his wife and twin sons were killed.”
“Wife?”
“You didn’t know he’d been married?”
A wife…sons, it was all so unreal. “No,” Darli said softly, “he never mentioned it.”
“Understandable. Denial was part of his prob
lem. Beyond normal grief, he also felt responsible.”
“But it was an accident.”
“A person doesn’t have to be guilty to feel guilty. With his sensitive nature, depression was to be expected. He stayed in his office, lying on the couch, rarely sleeping or eating. His secretary became concerned and called his sister. The sister took him home with her, but his depression worsened. He began to take on the personas of other people, and only during those times did he emerge out of his despondency.”
Darli rubbed her aching head. “I’m afraid I’m not following all this.”
“His pain was so unbearable, his mind found a way to cope.”
“So he claimed to be an alien to escape?”
“We didn’t know about that personality. But rock star, cowboy…he tried them all.”
Darli’s face grew warm. In spite of her doubts, she’d foolishly bought his wild story.
“His sister played along with his pretenses, which prolonged the illness,” Dr Steina said. “She believed Greg’s desire to hide in a fantasy world was part of the healing process. Then, the pretenses lasted longer and longer. He seemed happy only while in his fantasy world where he didn’t have to face the pain, loss and guilt.”
“Poor Cortz…Er…Greg.”
Dr. Steina squeezed Darli’s hand and said, “Greg finally reached the point where his sister knew outside help was needed. That’s when I came into the picture. She called my office, explained the situation, and asked me to help him. Before I could schedule an appointment, he disappeared. I believe it was during that time, he met you. Those days must be accounted for, if I am to help him.”
“Couldn’t you just ask him?” Darli felt numb and even though the day was warm, her hands were icy.
“Amnesia made questions useless.”
Darli flushed. “That’s right. He had amnesia. The Honolulu police found him wandering the streets.”
Dr. Steina nodded. “He’d been mugged. The hard blow he took to his head resulted in his memory loss.”
“So that’s why Cortz didn’t come back.”
Dr. Steina gave Darli’s arm a gentle pat.
“How did Greg’s sister find him here in Honolulu?” Darli asked.
“His sister placed a missing persons report in California, their home state. A California police officer vacationing in Hawaii saw the TV newscast requesting that the public help identify a John Doe. The officer had worked on the missing person’s case and recognized the man as Gregory Harris. He immediately contacted the local police. They called Greg’s sister, Mona, and she flew to Honolulu to escort Greg home.”
Dear God, if only I’d seen the newscast. “I should have known Cortz would have come back if something hadn’t happened to him.”
“His sister was amazed that he’d turned up in Hawaii. As soon as Greg and Mona returned to California, she called and asked me to begin treatment. His condition had changed, however. Rather than taking on various personas, he couldn’t remember anything at all.”
“How can I help?”
“I hoped you might function as a memory trigger. It’s obvious he’s fighting against remembering. What was your relationship with Greg?”
Darli swallowed to moisten her dry throat and focused on her lap where her hands twisted and untwisted a tissue. “He needed help and I took him into my home. We became close,” she said softly. “He told me his name was Cortz, and that he was from another planet.”
“That was his illness speaking,” Dr. Steina said.
“He was so convincing, and he had all those gadgets.”
The doctor leaned forward and tilted her head. “What gadgets?”
“Something he called an enerplane, a computer, and a stun gun. Everything looked so real. I believed him.”
“Well, he’s an inventor. I’m sure the things were real. Greg is a very intelligent and imaginative man, the kind of man a woman wants to believe.”
“I should have known better,” Darli said. “The thing that lent authenticity to his story was the huge bag of diamonds. Real ones.”
“What happened to them?”
“They’re safe. I put them away for him.”
Dr. Steina exhaled, looking relieved. “Greg is a very wealthy man, maybe he bought them for investment. If we trigger his memory, he’ll be able to explain that. How long were you friends?”
“A few weeks that seemed like a lifetime.”
Dr. Steina gave Darli a level look. “You loved him?”
She flushed and nodded. “I guess I always will.”
“Then you’ll assist in his recovery?”
“Of course. But how?”
“It could be painful.” Dr. Steina’s blue eyes probed hers.
“I can handle it.”
“Greg’s sister gave me the authority to take you to him if I thought it would help. She’ll pay your expenses.”
“To California?” Darli’s heart pounded.
The doctor nodded.
Darli knew she could arrange it with the university. “Would tomorrow be soon enough?”
“Fine. But, if you need more time…”
“Oh, no. I’ll be ready first thing in the morning.” Darli felt dazed, but two thoughts were clear—Cortz was alive. And she was going to see him.
Chapter Twenty-Six
The following day during the flight, Dr. Steina told Darli more about Greg’s family.
“Mr. Harris, Senior started Harris Invention’s in his late thirties,” Dr. Steina said.
“His father was an inventor too?”
Dr. Steina nodded. “When Mr. Harris, Senior died, he left the business to Greg and his sister Mona. Both had worked at the plant since their teens—Mona in administration and Greg in the conception and design of new products. Due to large government contracts the business does very well. But they need Greg.”
Darli glanced out the window at the smoggy sky as the wheels of the airplane touched the runway of the Los Angeles International Airport. In spite of the gray gloom, she smiled to herself. It was laughable how at first she’d wondered if Cortz was a beach bum and here he was a wealthy entrepreneur.
Her mingled feelings of anticipation and apprehension grew stronger as the uniformed limousine driver met them and skillfully whisked them down Century Boulevard and onto the freeway. She couldn’t squelch the mounting tension. “How long will it take us to get to the hospital?”
“Relax, Darli,” Dr. Steina said. “It’ll be late. You won’t be able to see him until morning.”
I should have known that, she thought, as disappointment crashed over her.
“Greg’s sister and I appreciate that you dropped everything for this trip. I hope we haven’t put too much pressure on you to do what, so far, medical expertise and family love have failed to accomplish.”
Too much pressure. Everyone was counting on her. Oh, God, what if I fail? Her knees began to shake. “No, you’ve been great. I am grateful for the opportunity.”
Dr Steina smiled. “Greg has been getting top care. At Windscape Knolls we believe in treating the whole person. In Greg’s case, we’ve incorporated a rigorous exercise program. Exercise increases the blood flow to the brain, promoting a healthy supply of oxygen and nutrients on which the brain depends. Insufficient blood flow leads to poor coordination and difficulty processing complex thoughts. Rigorous exercise increases the supply of a brain-derived neurotrophic factor, a protein that aids in the creation of new cells. None of this is a cure for amnesia, but maintaining a high level of cognitive skills preserves a receptive mode in the brain. I’m hoping the stimulus of seeing you, a relationship from the past, will succeed in opening the floodgates of his mind and release the flow of the memory and provide full recovery.”
But they didn’t want to put too much pressure on her, she thought wryly. She clasped her hands tightly in her lap, trying to stop their trembling. “I’m counting on that, too. I brought clothes familiar to him and haven’t changed my hairstyle.”
“That’
ll help. We have a pool and lots of walking paths. Try to do some activities together that require quick reactions like tennis, table tennis, and jogging.”
Activities that required quick reactions played in Darli’s mind. She remembered their water play in the undulating waters, how he’d raced her, running beyond where the sand joined the sea. She had thrown down her sunglasses and followed him. “Catch me,” he’d said and dove through the crest of an approaching wave. When he came up for air, she was right behind him. She leapt and almost grabbed him around the neck. However, his reactions were too quick for her.
After a good pursuit, Cortz caught her and gently pulled her under the water for a salty kiss. Breathless moments later, they surfaced, bodies close, laughing and gasping for air.
To hide the tears forming on her lashes, and to distance herself from thoughts that made waiting to see Cortz more torturous, Darli stared out the limo window.
Los Angeles hadn’t changed much. The sprawling, congested city gave her a curious, lonely feeling. She remembered coming to Los Angeles with her parents when she was a child.
Her parents had lived in San Diego before their deaths and seldom left the area, but she remembered a trip to Chinatown and another to Olivera Street. She blinked back tears at the bittersweet memories. She’d been close to her parents and even though several years had passed since their deaths, she missed them terribly. With effort, she tucked the memory back into its special place and concentrated on the scenery.
Due to heavy traffic, the driver changed lanes frequently.
Oh no. She’d been so excited and in such a hurry to see Cortz again that she hadn’t thought about bringing his gear. Damn, damn, damn.
This trip was such a big gamble. I shouldn’t have agreed to come. He won’t remember me. Could she stand the heartbreak when he looked at her with empty eyes?
Unfamiliar buildings blurred as the car sped on. Occasionally the driver or the doctor pointed out a famous landmark. The sky darkened and lights smeared the blackness with a neon blanket.