Forgetting

by J. L. Brooks

  “Julian, what’s wrong?” I shouted.

  It wasn’t until we were close to the highway that he responded. Without taking his eyes off the road, he darted in and out of cars as fast as he could. I felt as though a police officer would get the call about us and begin searching for the truck any moment.

  I closed my eyes and leaned against the headrest. I knew what this meant. Julian’s nerves couldn’t possibly take anymore, and this was the last thing he needed. I wanted to tell him it would be okay, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to believe this was the end. Not today. Silently, I pleaded with God.

  Just one day lord, please, just one day . . .

  ~ Eleventh Hour ~

  The truck could not get to the hospital fast enough. The call from the on-duty nurse had Julian cursing and banging the steering wheel repeatedly, while trying to shove the accelerator to the floor board. I tried to rub his back to soothe him, but there was no way to diffuse the adrenaline in his veins.

  She was still breathing and her heart rate was stable, but there were too many unknowns. Raina suffered a heart attack and was holding on for dear life. The combination of toxic chemicals and voracious cancer had devoured her body to nearly a vapor. More often than not, she simply slept. The few hours she was conscious, were clouded by the morphine drip that never stopped. We knew this day was coming, and now the minutes were ticking by rapidly.

  Julian whipped the truck cockeyed into a parking spot, and bolted to the front doors of the hospital without even turning off the ignition. I locked everything up, and trailed after him to the ninth floor where Raina was resting in the intensive care unit. The moment the elevator doors opened, I could hear shouting between the doctor and Julian, who was demanding to know his mother’s status. I was thankful she was asleep and unable to witness her child in such distress. I jogged up to the door, and gently pushed Julian back to take a moment to breathe.

  “Look at me. Dammit, look at me, Julian. Calm down, this isn’t helping anything. Let the man speak,” I said.

  Wild eyed, he paused just long enough to anchor onto me and find his bearings. His palms squeezed my arms so tightly I knew they would bruise, but I gladly accepted whatever pain I could take away from him.

  “I’m not ready yet. Not today. Not when everything has been so perfect. Just one day, Stella. Just one day I want to be fucking normal,” he cried out.

  Just then, a lightning bolt raced from my brain, down my spine, and electrified every nerve in my body. Julian was shaking too hard to notice the infliction, but unlike before, it didn’t stop. The room began to spin, and I felt myself grow dizzy. I held onto Julian for stability, but he was too unbalanced himself, so we crashed into the wall and slid to the floor. Pain began to radiate through my skull, creating small tremors. I closed my eyes and held on to Julian as he wept. The anguish in his voice kept me from slipping away into a darkness that threatened to swallow me just an hour before.

  The sharp aroma of disinfectants pierced my nostrils, and suddenly every noise was amplified. Every heart monitor, pulse oximeter, ventilator, and machines designed to sustain life echoed loudly. The stark chill of the hard cement floor penetrated my skin, and memories began to burst forth from the hidden chambers of my mind.

  “This isn’t happening,” I murmured.

  Lovingly, he began to stroke my hair and kiss my head, while rocking back and forth.

  “I know, baby. I don’t believe it either,” he replied sadly.

  He believed the torment I was expressing was over Raina and, in that moment, I refused to let him know any different. Quietly, I rested in his arms, swimming in the abyss of fear. There was no song to end and come back from. No definite moment the feeling would pass. Slowly, the woman I had become seeped through my veins and collided with memories of my present like an IV drip of narcotics. This reality was more strange and surreal than either one I had known before, and it took everything in me to process it. As Julian pulled me to my feet and into his arms, he held me briefly before wiping his eyes and stepping into Raina’s room.

  He walked around her bed and grazed his fingers along the tubes that were connected to multiple parts of her body. She was intubated, and unable to breathe on her own. After kissing her cheek, he fell to his knees and began to pray. How many times had this scenario played out before me? With a new set of eyes, I scanned the room and every detail scorched vividly with recognition. Feeling a sudden rush of nausea, I excused myself to the bathroom and gripped the cool porcelain as my stomach emptied itself violently. Over twenty excruciating minutes passed, and I could hear the doctors on the other side of the door speaking with Julian and discussing her prognosis.

  “She will regain consciousness soon. We have determined that, in addition to the myocardial infarction, she is suffering from coronary thrombosis. She may not survive any attempts to restore blood flow. We understand you do not want her to stay here, but please know that we are doing all that we can. Although we would prefer for her to remain in ICU for monitoring, a hospice nurse will be in shortly to discuss transporting her home. I am sorry; I wish I could do more.”

  I waited until the doctor left before cracking open the door and walking out slowly. Julian was sitting next to Raina, stroking her arm and talking to her softly. He looked up with red, swollen eyes, and silently pleaded for answers I did not possess. I gently crawled into his lap and cradled his head against my chest.

  “You aren’t alone, Julian. I’m here,” I whispered, trying to offer any comfort I could.

  “I don’t know what I would do without you,” he said in a raspy voice.

  “You don’t have to know,” I replied.

  As we held each other close, a light knock came at the door, and we both looked up. A middle-aged woman with short curly hair and a benevolent smile greeted us. The hospice nurse. She was wearing a khaki suit and hospital-issued name badge with smiley face stickers that were faded and wearing off. She reached out her hand to me, and then Julian, before looking at Raina sympathetically. I couldn’t imagine having her job. As an intern I knew them well, because families almost always preferred their loved ones at home where they could be comfortable. Day in and day out, they wielded a brave smile and powered through the day helping to make a patients last wishes come to pass. I called them intercessors, because I felt it was the next step a person took before entering the gates of heaven, or in some cases, hell.

  Feeling claustrophobic, I asked Julian if he was okay with me taking a short walk to get some air while he set everything up. When he nodded his head, I excused myself and headed for the elevator. The doors chimed on each floor, with people getting in and out. I leaned against the back rail, and looked down at the ground, trying to comprehend everything that was happening.

  When the next rush of people came in, a familiar voice called out my name. “Stella? Stella Brady, is that really you?” the man asked.

  I had paid no attention earlier, because the faces in white lab coats seemed to blend together. Once my eyes were able to focus, I could finally place him with the name. “Holy shit, is it really you Brandon?” I asked in disbelief.

  He smiled as I reached out and ran my fingers across the stubble on his cheeks. Large brown eyes and a bright smile instantly propelled me into another place in time. Before I could protest, strong muscular arms pulled me close as his chest rattled in laughter.

  “Holy shit is right. I thought I would never see you again. That is in real life, of course. More than a few of us have used you as our claim to fame. Wow, where have you been?” he asked joyfully, before his eyes stopped on the scar peeking down from my hairline. I nervously looked around and could tell we held a captive audience. Noticing my apprehension, he moved closer to block me against the wall until the elevator stopped at the next floor.

  With an outstretched hand, he nodded his head to the door. “C’mon, Stella. Let’s get you somewhere else.”

  With my hand in his, he could feel the sweat collecting in my palm and the trembling i
n my body. My pulse was racing, and I felt myself growing nauseated again. I breathed in deeply to calm down, but needed to find a place to sit, or I risked passing out. Brandon stopped mid step and took a look at my face. He extended his hand, and used the pad of his thumb to pull under my eyes and examine the pupils.

  “Stella. Something is wrong with you. Tell me how you’re feeling.”

  I shook my head, and started to wobble in my footing.

  “I’m going to be sick. Get me to a bathroom.”

  He rushed me into a room and opened the door. My knees hit the ground just before more bile came forward and burned my esophagus. Brandon shouted for help, and a team of nurses rushed into the room.

  “Stella, I know you are freaking out right now. You are safe. I won’t let anything happen to you. I need you to breathe. Do you have any drug allergies?” he asked calmly.

  I shook my head and spit into the toilet bowl, anticipating another attack. He turned to a nurse and asked for a high dose of lorazepam, stat.

  “You are going to be fine, I promise. Thank God I ran into you.”

  Taking a glance down, I could see his nametag near my waist as he crouched next to me on the ground.

  Dr. Brandon Perry—Cardiology

  “You fix hearts, Dr. Perry? What happened to obstetrics?” I laughed.

  Feeling his hand press gently on my back, a rush of comfort came over me.

  With humor in his voice he responded, “Well, I could only be around so many vaginas before I realized that job might scar me for life.”

  The nurses behind us snickered at the exchange, and a moment later one returned with the medicine and a plastic cup of water.

  “Take this, Stella. We need to get you calmed down and find out what’s going on. I am thrilled to see you, don’t get me wrong, but I would prefer it wasn’t as a patient.”

  Gratefully accepting the medicine, I allowed the water to drench my parched throat and reached out for a refill.

  “Not too fast. You don’t want to get sick again,” Brandon said.

  While sipping the water, I gave a middle finger and a wink.

  “You’re going to recover just fine, Brady. I have no doubt. Let’s get you up and into the bed so I can determine whether or not you need to be admitted.”

  Suddenly, I remembered that Julian was upstairs with Raina, and most likely having a panic attack of his own.

  “Julian, the ninth floor. I need to get back. He’s waiting for me.”

  Brandon gently pushed my shoulders back and instructed me to wait a second. “Stella, you are showing signs of a generalized anxiety attack. Do you know what set it off?”

  I looked around the room, and asked if we could be alone for a moment. He turned his head and silently dismissed the curious staff, then he turned back to me and waited for my response.

  “Brandon, I was in a really bad accident. I am sure you know that. Up until about an hour ago, I have been suffering from retrograde amnesia. The only reason I know that is because my memories did not dissipate like I thought they would. It’s like a puzzle that came together. I don’t remember the coma, but I remember coming to, and for months I couldn’t remember anything. You, any of it. Earlier tonight, I heard a song and it was like I was waking up again, and I couldn’t move. When we got here, Julian said something, and it was like a light switch went on. Now, I don’t know what to do, and . . .”

  “Sssshhhhhhh . . . I told you. You are safe here. Oh, Stella. I don’t even know where to begin. I think you need to be admitted for observ . . .”

  “No!” I shouted. “I need to get back to Julian. He needs me. He can’t know I have my memory back. Not today. Please, I am begging you. Just get me back to the ninth floor. Pretend you don’t know me. I can’t explain everything now. I will, though. I promise. Just not today.”

  Hot tears began to pour down my cheeks, and he could sense the desperation in my voice. My heart began to pound again, and I could feel the anxiety creeping up.

  Brandon pulled the penlight from his corner pocket and asked me to hold still. “Stella, I really think you need to be seen. This isn’t something I can just let go. As a doctor and a former colleague, but most of all, we were friends. You disappeared without a trace over a decade ago, and you just happen to reappear in the same elevator as me. Your mom . . .”

  I shot out of the bed and was inches from his face, stopping him mid-sentence. “No one can know, especially my mother. If I let you do an exam, will you let me go? I promise to come back for more testing.”

  Reluctantly, he pulled out his stethoscope and instructed me to lay down. As the cool metal dial danced across my chest, I giggled. “Hey, you finally get to touch my boobs. There’s a bright side to everything.”

  He looked at the ceiling and bit back a smile. “I’m really worried about you, Stella. More than that, I really missed you. You have no idea. We all did. And that prick Jefferson finally got what was coming to him.”

  My head snapped and my eyes zeroed in on his. I could feel my breathing increase, and I saw him grow concerned.

  “You never knew, did you? He’s in jail, Stella. He lost his license and was found guilty of malpractice. You vanished before the trial, but it was a really big deal. Because of you, they discovered he had been using students to perform delicate procedures and administer medications outside of protocol. Mr. Davies told the court what happened before you gave him the blood pressure medication. He said he saw you question the doctor about the dosage because of his systolic numbers, and Jefferson told you to do your job. It wasn’t your fault.”

  Brandon’s words fell into my heart like a meteor. Aside from the call about Julian that night, the near death of Mr. Davies was the catalyst for my tailspin into self-destruction. I was unable to forgive myself for letting something so deadly happen by my hand. I felt as though I had no right becoming a doctor, and subsequently let my life fall apart. That one moment led me to believe an imaginary shame that ran so deep, and I did everything I could to escape the pain. Half of my life had been spent hiding from a lie.

  A buried wail thundered from my lungs and rattled my soul. A stream of absolution flowed out of my heart and through my burning eyes. Brandon sat on the bed and pulled me into his arms, as I was finally granted reconciliation with the past. Was it possible that the almighty orchestrated this entire coincidence to bring me to this very juncture in time? There was no other explanation. The gravity of the situation was too much to comprehend, and I finally stopped trying. As the sobbing subsided, I could feel the sedative beginning to lull me into a tranquil state. With heavy eyelids, I mumbled out my request, “Take me to Julian, please. Room nine-fourteen.”

  Brandon released me to lie on the bed, then left the room, and returned with a wheel chair. He gently lifted my body, then set it down and I floated back up to where Julian and Raina were waiting. Julian raced straight over to me, frightened, and cradled my lethargic head.

  “What the fuck? What happened? Not you too!” he shouted with terror in his eyes.

  Before he was able to get too worked up, Brandon raised his hands and asked him to calm down. “Julian, she’s going to be okay. I am Dr. Perry. I went to school with Stella at UNC, and recognized her in the elevator. As we were talking, people got curious and she had a panic attack. I gave her a sedative to calm her down. She’s been really worried about you, and I promised I would bring her back as soon as I knew she was more settled. I told her she needs to come back and get a few tests, but I promise, she’s fine. Just a little shaken. From what I can see, I understand why. Do you mind if I ask what’s going on?”

  After a few deep breaths and a shower of kisses, he started to relax. “Stella, I swear you are going to give me a heart attack.”

  Brandon laughed and flicked his name tag. “Good thing I was the one that brought her back then.”

  With a weak smile Julian shook his head. “Thank you for returning her to me. It’s been a long day. My mom had a heart attack, and earlier tonight, Stell
a . . . it’s just been a fucked up night. We’re getting ready to take her home.”

  Brandon logged into the laptop and began to assess Raina’s charts. A heavy weight fell over the room and he looked at me with a silent understanding.

  “Mr. Moreau, I am really sorry. If there is anything I can do for you, please, don’t hesitate to call.” He reached into his pocket, pulled a card out, and handed it to Julian.

  After shaking his hand, he walked back over to me and crouched to the ground so he could look into my eyes. “As for you, Brady, take it easy on this guy.” He laughed.

  Before leaving the room, he stopped and patted the doorway. “Moreau. Julian Moreau. That’s you?” Brandon asked.

  Julian stood up and replied, “Yes. Is there a reason you are asking?”

  Brandon smiled broadly and looked at me before returning his attention to Julian. “I used to be very jealous of you. Stella would never shut up, and it was as though you walked on water. I would have to remind her to take off your dog tags before going into radiology. I told myself that one day I would be half as lucky as you to find a woman like her. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, soldier.” He raised his hand in a salute, which Julian reciprocated.

  Through my sideways view, I grinned at Julian as best I could.

  He fell onto his knees at my feet, rested his head on my lap, and closed his eyes. “Do you have any idea how freaked out I am right now? It’s a damn good thing I love you, Stella Brady,” he said quietly.

  I reached my hand out to comfort him, but it flopped on his face, causing him to wince in pain.

  Feeling myself falling asleep, I mumbled out as well as I could, “I lurveee youuu tooo.”

  ~ Finish Line ~

  Raina’s house continued to be a buzz of activity, as different medical companies were in and out exchanging tanks, delivering medications, and issuing paperwork. My father stepped in at the bakery, so Julian could be home with her. My mom took a leave of absence, and asked another physician to be on call. At Julian’s request, she monitored Raina’s care, lovingly ensuring that she was in the least amount of pain possible. When she was awake, she demanded we smile and share stories of happy times. I noticed her eyes sparkle the most when Julian and I were next to one other, giving each solace.