Amnesia

  “I love you too, Mom,” the supine form responded with a sleepy yawn. “Good-night.”

  She turned, exited the room, and pulled the door softly closed. A smile crept across her face as she reveled in the bliss of her newfound relationship. She may have lost her fantasy tonight, but she found her dream.

  * * *

  Bill pulled the headphones off of his ears and rubbed his tired eyes. He was exhausted, couldn’t even remember the last time he had a good night’s rest. He looked up at the clock on the Police Department wall and located the hands indicating it was 2:23 AM. He was getting nowhere, and after the euphoria of finding Scardoni’s phone he was feeling very let down.

  He pushed “stop” on the small cassette recorder in front of him, stood and stretched his cramped muscles, and decided it was time for a break. He picked up his empty cup, intending to refill it, and headed toward the break room to find some ice and water. While there he deposited a dollar bill into the vending machine, and retrieved a bag of Fritos. The taste of the chips reminded him that he had neglected more than just sleep over the past several days. And he was beginning to wonder if he was ever going to make sense of all this.

  He pulled the sling off of his aching left arm and gingerly stretched the muscle as far as it would go. Lissa had warned him that the muscle would take some time to heal completely, that he shouldn’t push the recovery, but that he needed to exercise it regularly as well. That shouldn’t be a problem, he enjoyed working his muscles out; not only did it create endorphins and serotonin, the body’s natural way of producing pleasure, but also a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment in meeting goals and looking fit. Tonight, however, the last thing he could think about was a gym, and his aching shoulder painfully reminded him of his fatigue.

  He finished the chips, tossed the empty bag in the large receptacle, and took his ice water back to the table that had become his impromptu desk. He rubbed his hurting ears, raw from wearing the headphones, and sat down heavily in the chair. He knew he was missing a vital piece of information, but he just couldn’t pull it together.

  He leaned back in the chair, resting his head on the back of the seat, and closed his bloodshot eyes. He needed sleep, he knew, and wanted desperately to find a bed and sleep for at least a week. At the same time he felt compelled to find an answer, if for no better reason than to give his companions peace of mind. Lissa deserved at least that.

  Lissa. He had met her only a week and a half ago, and already she held a place in his life that he would never have thought possible. At first he believed that she might be able to replace the void created when Lacy was taken from him, but it was never the same, he now realized. When he had seen her and Robbie together, he thought he should be jealous and angry. Instead he was happy and a little relieved. Not how a possible suitor should react.

  Still she meant a great deal to him, perhaps more like a younger sister that needed his protection. It was the same way he felt about Shirley, Curt’s fiancée, and even Beverley Windham and Peter Frindle. They were his family now, and he would do anything and everything he could to ensure their safety and happiness. And how he should feel about Carrie Price—only he didn’t.

  She had spent the entire night sitting with him in the emergency room as the doctor x-rayed, prodded, and slung the bullet wound. Initially she had felt obligated to be there, since it was because of her estranged, now dead, husband that he had been hurt anyway. And that he had been there in the role of her protector, an act that had cost him a hefty price.

  Then slowly she began to explain how she had fallen in love with the charismatic man, how he had showered her with expensive gifts and flattery, easily turning her head, until she felt empty when he was absent. She began seeking out his company simply to hear his wonderful words that he cast about her, a net ensnaring her, binding her to him. He had told her how he needed her and would cease to exist without her by his side. She had eagerly accepted every word; it was only natural, as he had told her exactly what she had wanted to hear.

  They had married in the temple, as was expected of the outwardly pious pair they appeared, and had an expensive and well publicized reception, befitting a rising star that would someday be a political force to be reckoned with. It was the fulfillment of all young girls’ dreams.

  Yet as she recounted the experiences to Bill that night, she admitted that there had been signs that she had ignored, indications that all was not as it appeared. For one, her parents were decidedly against the man, despite finding no obvious reason for disapproval. She had dismissed it as overprotective parents not willing to give up their little girl, but in retrospect she realized that they had probably recognized that he was not all he declared to be.

  There was also something a little off about the gifts he gave her, and how he reacted to them. Once he bought her a dress that was far too revealing, but he insisted that it simply emphasized her natural beauty, and convinced her to wear it for him, regardless of her initial aversion to wear something so immodest. There were dozens of such examples, but she thrived on how he massaged her ego, building her pride until she was addicted to the feelings he promoted. If only she had listened to the loving concern of those around her, heeded the promptings that warned her of what was to come.

  She went on to tell him about the abuse, holding nothing back, opening herself up to him, allowing her vulnerability to show to this man she hardly knew, but implicitly trusted. Together they had talked and cried, she taking advantage of the catharsis, he growing in amazement and wonder at this tiny woman with such hidden horrors and strengths.

  Somewhere in their conversation he realized how badly he yearned to take this lovely woman and cradle her in his arms, keeping her safe from the torrential rains that had fallen on her life, stopping any more rain from falling. These feelings reached well beyond simple duty or chivalry, but took root deeper in his heart. He had told her nothing of the feelings of course, but he wondered at their intensity.

  He freely admitted to himself that he had never experienced this type of feeling before. Of course being a police officer he felt a natural inclination to watch out for the defenseless, but never like this. Even with Lacy he hadn’t felt this way, although he was always concerned for her safety and happiness. This was just different.

  His thoughts turned to Lacy and wondered again, for at least the thousandth time, how she felt about what he was doing, and how he was faring. Would she be proud of him? Or disappointed? Would she approve of his dealings with God and his fellowmen? Would she still be anxious to be with him for eternity, as she was when they first married? Tonight, however, another question occurred to him—would she like and approve of Carrie?

  He was startled at the intensity of feelings that single question created in him, especially since he had asked the others so often with no reaction. This one, however, left him feeling somewhat breathless. As if in answer to his query his breast was filled with a sudden influx of warmth and peace. Tears sprang to his eyes as the feeling of wonder and bliss filled him, as if someone had unstoppered his heart and poured the feeling directly in.

  In that moment he felt a closeness with Lacy he had not felt since the moment of their sealing in the temple. The love between them was palpable and left him reeling with its intensity. For a moment he nearly called out to her, but knew she was aware of his feelings. The veil was thinned for a moment and he could feel her presence tangibly.

  His memory too was opened, and he saw her as he did that day in the temple, flowing white wedding dress symbolizing the purity of their hearts as they gave themselves to each other for all eternity. He had been dumbstruck with her beauty and grace, and felt himself the luckiest man to have ever lived to have her want to be with him.

  Then his memories shifted to the heart-wrenching funeral of his beautiful bride and infant child. For a moment he feared viewing these memories for the searing pain they always engendered, however this time the pervasive feeling of peace overrode the emotion of grief. He remembered
the beauty of the simple service, its purpose to remind the mourners that this was but a brief separation, that their loved ones had simply moved on to a new sphere where they waited eagerly to be joined with dear ones still on earth.

  He could now easily envision Lacy, dressed all in white again, waiting for her beloved husband to complete his mission in this life. She knew that his journey was fraught with difficulties and dangers and that he would periodically stumble and perhaps occasionally stray from the correct path. She understood too that for this reason alone he must not travel the path forever a solitary figure. Bill knew in that brief instant exactly what Lacy thought of his struggles, how he was doing, and that she wanted him to have a companion. And if it was agreeable to the two of them, she would love to share her love with a sister like Carrie.

  Bill wept with joy as the vision closed, and he was left sitting at the long table. He knew his family was being well taken care, that they loved him and were proud of him, and that they were eager for him to find happiness. He wondered for a moment if he had dreamed it all, but quickly decided that no dream could produce the feelings of peace in his heart. He made up his mind then that he would seek out Carrie in the morning, to spend time with her, no matter the end result of that time.

  He smiled widely, feeling lighter and refreshed. Like a new man. A man given a new lease on life. He thought of Robbie, and how he had a new life now, a clean slate to start over and create of himself anything he wanted. He thought of the parallel between their stories; how Bill had been living life as in a coma, just as Robbie had been. Before then he had been drowning in grief and pain from the inability to save his family, struggling to find sense and reason, just as Robbie had been struggling in the water for breath and life.

  But he knew how he had ended up in the water, thrown in bodily when he ignored the promptings he had been given, and was not there for his family when they needed him most. Almost like he had been standing on the edge of a cliff overlooking the water, and instead of backing away to safety, he had continued walking along the edge, risking falling in and….

  Suddenly it hit him between the eyes. He sat up straight, grabbed the headphones and rewound the 911 tape. Impatiently he waited for the counter to wind back down to 1473, where the recording he was looking for began. He hit the stop button, then play, and closed his eyes, trying to picture the scene as witnessed by the caller.

  Dispatcher: 911, what is the nature of the emergency?

  Caller: This guy just fell out of the sky and into the water. I think he’s dead.

  Dispatcher: You said there is a man that is drowning?

  Caller: Yeah, he’s not breathing, and I can’t get him to wake up.”

  Dispatcher: Do you know CPR sir?

  Caller: Sorta, but it’s been awhile.

  Dispatcher: Where are you calling from?

  Caller: My boat. I pulled him out of the water, and he’s layin’ here on the deck.

  Dispatcher: Where are you at sir?

  Caller: Lake Cascade. My son is heading us back to the north shore, and we should be there in a couple o’ minutes.

  Caller: Dispatcher: Okay, sir, I have EMS responding to that area. Now about the victim, does he have anything in his mouth?

  Caller: Hang on. John, toss me that flashlight. Okay, no, it’s clear.

  Dispatcher: Okay, now you will need to be kneeling at his right side, perpendicular to his body. Then tilt his head back, so his neck looks slightly arched, then hold his nose with your left hand, and pull down his chin with your right hand. That should open his mouth. Then you will need to take a deep breath, cover his mouth with yours, and blow all the air into him that you can. You will need to do it twice. Do that, and then pick the phone back up, Okay?

  Caller: Sure just a moment…Okay, now what.

  Dispatcher: Did you see his chest rise and fall?

  Caller: Yeah.

  Dispatcher: Good. Now what I need you to do is find his breastbone, can you do that? You may have to remove his shirt.

  Caller: Got it.

  Dispatcher: Okay, now you will need to lock the fingers on both….

  An explosion interrupts the operator’s voice.

  Caller: Oh my gosh! The whole mountain just blew up!

  Dispatcher: Sir, are you all right?

  Caller: Yeah, but the whole mountain just blew up. You better get someone over there.

  Dispatcher: Okay, I’m typing that in now, but I will need you to begin compressions on the victim. Can you do that?

  Caller: Sure. I remember this part. Interlocking fingers, palm down, right between the nipples. Right?

  Dispatcher: That’s correct. You will need thirty compressions alternating with two breaths. You will need to do about a hundred beats a minute and continue this until help arrives. You can put the phone down, but please don’t hang up.

  Bill stopped the tape, the rest was mostly dead air anyway, just the quiet counting of the rescuer continuing the CPR. But it was the beginning of the call that interested him. He knew that the “side of the mountain exploding” was the plane crash, something about which Jack had some information.

  But it was the first line that caught his attention. The fisherman said that the man “fell out of the sky,” then just moments later the plane had crashed….

  Excitedly he picked up the phone and dialed Jack’s number. A moment later a tired voice answered. He delivered his findings to his mentor and verified he would be over at ten.

  He hung up and glanced up at the clock. 3:17 AM. In just under seven hours he would be seeing Carrie. It was time to go home and get some rest. He wondered if he would be able to sleep at all.

  * * *

  The man currently known as Robbie listened disconnectedly to the wind whistling in his ears, struggling to discover the cause of the nagging in the back of his mind. For a moment he pushed the discomfiting thoughts aside and took in the beauty of the sunrise before him. A myriad of hues blended wonderfully together, beginning with yellow at the center, then darkening to orange, red, and on through the several colors of the prism, then ending with deep blue then black at the outer fringes of the dawns birth. He basked in the wonder of the natural beauty of God’s paintbrush, joy filling his breast as he gazed in awe at the sight. If only he could share it with the woman he was growing to love so much.

  He turned to locate Lissa, but saw no one behind him. That curious nagging arose again to pester his consciousness. Something related to Lissa? He wondered, and then dismissed it, as that didn’t feel quite like it. No it was something more obvious, more tangible. He tried to dismiss the thoughts again, but this time they wouldn’t be ignored.

  He tried to remember what was bothering him that brought him to this place. He couldn’t quite remember, but knew it was something quite disturbing. Something about someone he knew. He couldn’t quite place it.

  His mind drifted back to the beauty before him and he became aware of the tangy smell of the ocean where he had spent many summers swimming, water-skiing, and even learning to surf, though he never quite got the hang of it. Many times he had simply walked up and down the sandy shores, spying out shells and treasures, allowing the soft roar of the cascading water to fill the background of his thoughts, allowing the foreground to focus intently on some problem at hand. Only this time it was the whistling of wind that filled his ears, and somehow the tangy smell of the water seemed much fishier, even a little musty, more like the scent of an inland lake.

  Again that warning voice in his head told home something was amiss, and this time he forced his thinking to focus on what his mind was telling him. Something about the whistling wind and musty water. And that dull whine of an engine above him. He looked up trying to locate the origin of the motor and his heart leapt into his throat.

  Above him stood an ape of a man in the doorway of a small plane, holding tightly to his collar. The man laughed raucously, spewing spittle all over his captives face. His bushy mustache was filled with rotting food and dripped with whis
ky recently swigged from a nearby flask. In his eyes was a wildness that defied description, lending a crazed look to the already frightening behemoth. Robbie was quickly convinced that his life was now forfeit.

  “Well, ‘Robbie’, it looks like it’s just you and me. The pilot has already bailed out, and as you can see I have my own parachute. You on the other hand have nothing but an old T-shirt and a ragged pair of jeans.”

  He laughed again, nearly losing his grip on the ripping shirt. “Robbie” tried to grab hold of his executioner’s arm, but could find no grip, slipping free and flailing wildly in the air, all to the utter delight of the madman above. Panic gripped his chest, squeezing until he felt he couldn’t breathe, his mind suddenly paralyzed with fear. He blindly grabbed about for anything to save himself, but nothing was there. He was doomed.

  “Good-bye ‘Robbie,’” called the man, as if from far away, “you should have stayed dead.” The voice trailed off, echoing those last words “you should have stayed dead.” “Robbie” realized he was falling. He wiggled his body around until he could see below him, to the water that he could smell earlier. Down he plunged, faster and faster as gravity pulled indefatigably at his defenseless body.

  Time slowed for the doomed man as he moved inexorably toward his assured death in the merciless water below. Suddenly his mind became crystal clear. He realized he wasn’t afraid of death, only of being torn from the one person he so deeply loved. He cried out desperately for Lissa, unconcerned for what happened to him, but with a desire simply to bind him to her for all eternity before he returned to that God who gave him life.

  He looked around again, then back down to the quickly approaching water. Tears sprang to his eyes as he realized that since he and Lissa had never solemnized their love in the Holy Temple, he would never have claim to it in the life to come. Sobs escaped his lips as he mourned for that loss more than any other. How could the afterlife ever be heaven if he were damned to forever walk alone without the woman he so loved?