by Eden Robins
“I will,” she called back absentmindedly. Her thoughts had already switched to the task at hand.
Joey glanced back over his shoulder one last time, smiled and shook his head. That was one beautiful witch. If he didn’t have his own woman at home, he’d seriously think about Rebecca. That is, once she got over her amnesia.
Arriving at Dr. Everett’s office, he knocked on the door once before entering. The doctor, despite his easygoing demeanor, was a stickler when it came to certain protocol.
“Enter.”
Joey opened the door and walked in.
“Is she out in the garden?” the doc asked without looking up from his paperwork.
Joey noticed that the doc was frowning and his expression was anxious. Rebecca Vanderhoss was a very special witch and her family expected her to be treated as such. He knew the doctor was doing his best but the guy was concerned that it still wouldn’t be good enough.
“Yes,” Joey replied, trying to keep his tone soft and calming. The doc really did look worked up about something. “Don’t worry, Doc. Everything is going just fine. Rebecca is enjoying her time in the garden. She even got over my slight rebuff yesterday and was very cooperative and friendly today.”
“I know, I know, Joey,” Dr. Everett replied. “But we’re walking on eggshells here. We don’t just have any witch in our facility, we have a witch from a very well-known, well-connected family.”
“We’ve had famous witches and wizards here before, Doc. Why are you so anxious about this one?”
The doc ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.
“I’m aware of the fact that we’ve had witches here before, Joey, just as I’m aware that we are the foremost mental healthcare facility in the Southwest equipped for handling paranormals. But we’ve never had a case like this before—a witch who is not only suffering from extensive trauma-induced amnesia, but one who is being stalked by a killer of unknown, yet possibly paranormal origins,” the doc explained. “Do you know what that means?”
Joey nodded his head.
“Yeah, it means we need to keep a very close eye on her. That’s why we have two full-time guys watching Rebecca as well as one of our own manning and monitoring the security cameras at all times.”
The doc gave him a curt nod.
“That’s right, Joey. And we need to do all of this for two very important reasons. The first is to make sure that Rebecca doesn’t spontaneously use magic. Although this is the special paranormal unit, magic is not tolerated. Everyone knows that except Rebecca. And we can’t tell her that without possibly harming her regaining her memory. So we have to be extra alert.”
Doc got up and started pacing back and forth across the room.
Joey was surprised by this, as he hadn’t seen the doc so agitated before.
“The second reason, Joey,” he continued, “is because we don’t know anything about the person who’s after her. Is it a mortal, is it a witch or wizard, a vamp or shape-shifter? We don’t know enough yet. This makes her case especially dangerous.”
Joey sighed heavily.
“I see what you mean, Doc. I see what you mean.”
“We just need to be very watchful and very careful. I know we discussed this at the last staff meeting but I won’t hesitate to reiterate this to you or any of the other employees. It is an absolute must that we pay close attention to Miss Rebecca Vanderhoss and take each and every precaution very seriously.”
“That’s not too difficult for me,” Joey said with a smile. “Not only is she easy on the eyes but she’s also a really nice person.”
Joey was relieved to see the doc’s tense expression ease up a bit as he smiled gently.
“She definitely is that, Joey.”
The hours of the morning flew by. Joey came out one time to ask Rebecca if she needed anything and brought her something to drink. The only break she took was for lunch, a quick sandwich in the dining room. After that she ran back out to work the rest of the day until her four o’clock “one-on-one” with Dr. Everett.
“So how did it go today?” was the first question the doctor asked as she walked into his office.
Rebecca sighed dreamily. “It was wonderful. I could have stayed out there until the sun went down.”
Dr. Everett smiled. “I see. Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it so much. What were you able to accomplish today? Did you set out your plans?”
Rebecca handed him two sheets of paper. One contained a sketched plan of how she wanted to set up the garden. The other contained a list of additional products and materials she would need to do the job.
“This is quite a list.”
“Yes it is, but it’s really important that I have those items if I’m going to create the garden I have planned.”
“Let me see what I can do. I’ll send your materials list to administration and get the okay from them. We should be able to get you some more tools by tomorrow.”
“That would be great. I used the few tools that were already there to dig up quite a few weeds and clear away all the dead blooms and plants.”
“I’m impressed, Rebecca. You’re really invested in this project, aren’t you?”
“Definitely, Dr. Everett. I need to do this for some reason.”
“Let’s talk about that. Why do you feel that need is so strong?”
Rebecca thought about it.
Why did she need to do this so badly? What was it that had her so stirred up? Yes, she already knew she needed to garden but it was more than that. There was another purpose to this. A purpose she hadn’t thought much about.
Her memory.
Some part of her knew, actually understood, that her memory would return more quickly if she did this. There was a connection between her and this garden, between her and mother earth that was pulling at her. How she knew that was unclear yet she did. It was there, stuck in her mind, in a way she didn’t understand.
How could she explain that?
By just saying what you need to say.
Yes. By just saying what you need to say.
It didn’t get much simpler than that. That sentence sounded so familiar, as if she had said it many times before. Almost as if it had been one of the mantras she used in her motivational talks.
Motivational talks?
She could almost remember. She could almost envision herself talking to people. She talked to them about living their lives in a better way, a different way—an authentic way.
“I help people, don’t I?” She blurted out the question as the realization hit.
The doctor smiled gently. “Yes, Rebecca, you do.”
She nodded her head thoughtfully. “I just remembered that.”
Dr. Everett remained silent, encouraging her to continue.
“It’s what I do, each and every day. I can’t remember the how or where of it but I know it’s true. I help people,” she said, thinking out loud. “That’s why the garden is so important to me. That’s why I feel this strong need to do it. The work I do there, the feelings of peace and rightness, are going to help me remember, Dr. Everett. I just know it. That garden is going to bring me back to who I am.”
“That’s wonderful. Then I encourage you to keep at it, Rebecca. And I will give you the tools to help you do that, both in the garden and in regaining your memory.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Dr. Everett said.
They talked more about her day. Rebecca told him how she’d had a hard time falling asleep the night before due to her tumultuous thoughts. He explained how to use a breathing technique he thought might help her settle down and she promised to give it a try.
Rising to his feet, he gave her a warm smile. “See you tomorrow?”
“Definitely,” Rebecca said, returning his smile with her own.
Rebecca endured another group session with the other patients in the unit. She listened to each person talk about their day and found her natural fascination with people had her listening care
fully. Many of the people had one thing in common. Almost all of them talked about being depressed, about having a sense of hopelessness that they couldn’t seem to shake. The doctor expressed empathy with each patient’s concerns but beyond that didn’t say much.
When it came her turn to talk she couldn’t help blurting out a fact that somehow popped into her mind. Although she didn’t know where it came from, she felt very, very sure it was true.
“Did you know that fifty percent of the drugs prescribed in the United States are antidepressants?” she asked, looking around at the group. “How is that possible? Why is that happening? And what does that say about American society?”
Rebecca turned to the doctor in charge of the session and waited expectantly. These were questions she really wanted answered.
The doctor smiled indulgently but that smile never reached his eyes. Instead they looked serious and cold.
“You questions are quite valid, Rebecca,” he answered with condescension in his voice. “But since the purpose of this session is not a group discussion of American society, nor a talk show where people try to solve the world’s problems in one hour, your inquiry really has no pertinence here.”
Rebecca couldn’t help herself. Her response was immediate. “Not pertinent? Ninety percent of the people in this room are depressed and telling you about it. How can that topic not be pertinent?”
The doctor’s face tightened slightly and his smile slipped. “I appreciate your opinion, Rebecca. Of course everything you say in group discussion is meaningful but let’s stick to the plan, shall we?” he asked patronizingly. “You just tell us about your day. That’s it. That’s what I’m here to talk to you about.”
Rebecca didn’t like his tone of voice. The urge to talk more about depression was strong. She felt an open, honest discussion would help the others. She knew that her past contributed to this urge somehow but as she stared around the room and noticed the group starting to look uncomfortable, she decided to drop the subject. She didn’t want to start any kind of disruption. Especially when she thought about that nicely padded room Dr. Everett had shown her upon her initial tour of the place.
If nothing else, Rebecca knew when to let things go.
Now would be a good time for that.
“Works for me,” she said with a good-natured shrug. “My day was wonderful. I got to work out in the garden. I really enjoy digging in the dirt and creating something beautiful.”
“Thank you for sharing, Rebecca. I’m glad you had such a productive, happy and meaningful day.”
The doctor smiled. This time it was genuine, even reaching his eyes. And the relief on his face was immediate. It was obvious he hadn’t been sure if she was going to cooperate with him. Why would he think she wouldn’t? Especially considering her current situation. She was, after all, under the care and supervision of this facility and its staff, and her say in things was limited. So why had he seemed so wary?
Group session ended soon after that and Rebecca decided that her question was one that would have to wait to be answered on another day.
She spent the remainder of her time before dinner reading. Not only were there gardening books in the library, but also a surprisingly wide range of books on other subjects and genres. One in particular caught her attention. It was entitled Left to Tell, Discovering God Amidst the Rwandan Holocaust. The author was a young Rwandan woman named Immaculee Ilibagiza. She became so engrossed in this woman’s story of bravery, faith and love that she almost missed dinner.
If Joey hadn’t knocked on her door to remind her she probably would have. Joey’s reminder came at exactly the same time as her stomach growling. She looked down at her stomach then smiled up at Joey.
“Thanks for letting me know.”
Joey shook his head and chuckled. “You know, kid, I have a feeling you get very wrapped up in whatever you’re focused on. Just remember that you need to take care of yourself.”
Rebecca smiled at Joey’s caring advice. Although gruff and strict about the rules, her day attendant had a good heart.
“I’m not sure about that but I do know that this book has me hooked. It’s an incredibly touching story.”
“Well, I’m not much on reading but I do know about eating. And if you want to have some food in that stomach of yours you better get to the dining room, pronto.”
Rebecca set her book down and immediately walked to the dining room. She was hungry and the smell coming from the kitchen caused her stomach to growl even louder. She chose the cheesy chicken enchiladas with rice and beans. Gobbling it up with relish, Rebecca suddenly remembered how much she loved spicy food.
She smiled.
Another memory down.
Yep, she loved spice. That bam in her mouth when she added a little kick of hot chili sauce to her food was something she recalled really enjoying. And the cook making the enchiladas that night had added just enough heat to leave her tongue tingling.
Stomach full, Rebecca picked up her gardening books and sketches and headed to the atrium. She tried to tell herself she was going there because she really need to work out more details for the garden but as she arrived and saw that Jason wasn’t there she couldn’t deny her immense disappointment. A part of her knew she had been looking forward to seeing her night attendant all day.
Suddenly she felt like a schoolgirl with a secret crush. It was silly. She barely knew the man. Sure he was a hunk. Sure he had an interesting brain to back up all that brawn. And without a doubt his kiss left her shaken. But beyond that she didn’t know all that much about the guy. Maybe her feelings were just the classic patient-to-caregiver confusion that sometimes developed between people? Maybe she was just grateful to have someone like him to talk to? Maybe she was letting her dependence on this place and the people caring for her go a little too far?
When she thought back to their conversation and her actions the night before, she felt her face grow warm with embarrassment. He must think she was so ridiculously mixed up. He probably even felt sorry for her. Maybe he just sat with her the night before because he pitied her. Especially in light of her panic attack the night before that. Who wouldn’t show concern?
She really couldn’t blame him. She was mixed up. And sad, and confused. She needed to get a handle on herself and put things in perspective. He was her attendant. That was it. She needed to act like a grown woman, a mature adult, not some silly schoolgirl.
Her mind made up, Rebecca ignored the twinge of disappointment and sadness that filled her. Looking out the window into the night, she knew what she had to do. She would just focus on creating her garden and regaining her memory. She would talk to Jason when needed but nothing beyond that and—
“What are you so thoughtful about this evening, M’tali?”
Chapter Seven
Jason’s words, though soft and gentle, startled her.
She felt his breath brush against her ear.
She swung around, almost dropping her books, to find him standing directly behind her. She stumbled back a step to put some distance between them and almost fell backward.
Jason reached out and grasped her shoulders. His steady grip was the only thing keeping her upright. Once she was steadied he removed one hand to carefully take the books from her and set them on the small table to her right.
“I didn’t mean to startle you. I spoke softly because I could tell you were lost in thought,” he explained gently, releasing her and taking a step back. “Is everything okay?”
Rebecca felt like an idiot. Why was she so jumpy? And why did she have to have that kind of reaction now, when Jason probably already thought she was a weirdo?
“Rebecca?”
Snapped out of her thoughts, she stumbled over her next words. “I-I’m fine. I was just thinking more about how to set up the garden.”
Jason narrowed his eyes and silently studied her for a moment. “This garden is really important to you, isn’t it?”
“Extremely.”
“W
hy?” he asked, taking her hand and leading her to the nearby couch.
His touch sent tingles directly from her fingers to her breasts, then lower. She felt her stomach clench in awareness. Her breath quickened and suddenly she felt dizzy. Her legs turned rubbery. She had never been more relieved to sit down as she was in that moment.
Her relief was short-lived however, as Jason slid closer to her, a concerned look on his face. His scent reached Rebecca in that moment and left her even more off balance. He smelled spicy, all male and of the night. It was as if the danger and excitement of the evening clung to him. It made her want to draw closer despite the danger, like a moth to the flame.
Get a grip!
Rebecca needed to calm down. What was wrong with her? Jason was looking at her like he thought she was going to lose it again. She needed to get a handle on her overactive libido right this minute!
What had he asked her?
About the garden.
He had asked why the garden was so important to her.
Clearing her throat, she pulled herself together, sat up straighter and tried to sound like she was calm and collected.
“Funny you should ask that. Dr. Everett and I talked about just this subject earlier. The garden means so much to me because I feel connected to the earth and nature every time I dig my fingers into that soil.”
Rebecca calmed down. She sounded like she had it together and slowly but surely she was getting her body back under control. Just to be safe she scooted back, putting some distance between them.
“That connection has always been important to me, as has creating beauty through nature. And not only does gardening calm me down,” she explained, “it also helps me think about who I am. I feel strongly that I’ll gain my memory back more quickly through gardening. It’s almost like, well, like therapy for me. Does that make sense?”
“Absolutely,” he answered with a nod. “I think it would be important to find those kinds of connections when regaining memories. I bet gardening anchors you because it’s something you’re very familiar with. And that anchor allows your mind to focus on remembering instead of absorbing new stimuli and events around you.”