Arousing Suspicions: An Amnesia Romance

by Cynthia Hart

  The loss doesn’t feel too bad; it felt good to finally put some of the things we’ve been learning into practice. Now I know how some of the techniques I’ve been learning apply to the real world. From now on, we will be sparring during every class, as it helps more than anything else to solidify our very slowly building skills. We will warm up, learn new skills, and spar. This excites me, the idea of putting our skills to the test on a regular basis.

  As I gather my things to leave, Kaleb approaches me. “I thought you had her there,” his voice is casual, but his hands are too still, lying at his sides like dead fish. I can tell he’s uncomfortable, that he doesn’t know how to treat me now, outside of class. It’s one thing for him to treat me like a regular student, but quite another to have a private conversation with me, even a casual one.

  “Yeah,” I say, imitating his casual tone, “I’m not sure what happened. I was about to pin her and then… I don’t know, I was on the ground instead,” I shrug, “It’s okay, I know I have a lot to learn. I’m excited to give it a try again soon.”

  “Yeah, you’re only getting better,” he smiles reassuringly. “Well, see you,” He gives my shoulder a playful punch, then purses his lips as if he regrets it. I understand why, it made me feel like I’m his annoying little sister or something, not someone who shared a bed with him a few short days ago.

  I walk outside, trying to remember exactly what it was that I remembered during the sparring. I sit on my little bench and pull out my notebook where I have everything written down. Closing my eyes, I mentally count the men. 5 of them. They were yelling things at us… us! I can see Ana there, in the memory. Standing slightly in front of me, in a ready-to-fight stance. The men asked if we wanted to show them a good time, and commented on our “slutty” outfits. I don’t remember what happened next, I must have reacted somehow, right? I must have provoked them in some way…

  I shake my head, trying to get rid of the thought that it was somehow my fault. Am I really trying to victim blame myself? But it’s hard to separate myself from what happened to me. I want to play the blame-game, and for now, I don’t have anyone to pin the blame on except for myself.

  I hear someone approach and sit by me. Normally this would freak me out, but I have a pretty good idea of who it is. I open my eyes.

  “Hey.” He says.

  I give him a smile in response.

  “What are you doing out here?” He asks.

  “Trying to remember the attack. It helps… the martial arts. The sweating, the adrenaline, the fighting. I barely remembered anything before I came here, and now some of the pieces are fitting together. For example, I didn’t even know my best friend was with me until Friday. Someone that part got erased from my memory. Still, it’s like putting together an extremely complicated jigsaw puzzle when about half the pieces are missing.”

  He chuckles at my analogy, but then his expression turns unreadable, impenetrable. I wish we could find the easy conversation of the first day we met, but I’ve broken that. The feeling is similar to how I feel about Ana right now; I want to talk to him, share everything with him, but there’s a block. The only difference is that he is awake and well, perfectly capable of conversation. Somehow it is just as impossible as if he were in a coma, too.

  I pick up my things off the bench, where they are sitting between us. A barrier.

  “Hey, wait,” he says, a little bit desperately, “are you okay? You seem different than last week.”

  I deflate a bit. He can see straight through me. “Yeah, ever since I found out I wasn’t alone that night, that my best friend was actually with me. I… she got hurt. She’s still in the hospital. It’s really hard.” Embarrassingly, my eyes fill with tears. I’m not in a place to be vulnerable with him right now.

  It takes him a second to respond, and something strange passes his face before he does. He puts his hand on my shoulder, a friendly gesture, “I’m so sorry, Clara.”

  “Yeah,” I shrug, “anyways, I need to get going. See you Wednesday!” I say, falsely cheerful at the same time as I wipe the tears from my eyes. It takes some self-control to not sprint away, but I walk at a normal pace. I don’t know why I can’t allow myself to be with him longer, to let him listen and let myself be heard.

  Wednesday’s class passes, once again, without event. Meaning I don’t remember anything. I don’t mind so much, I’m exhausted from trying to put all of the pieces together. Plus, I’m happy to not have accidentally hurt anyone in one of my ‘absences’. When I’m able to focus on the day’s exercises, I find myself really getting the hang of things. I did better in today’s sparring, keeping my male opponent on the ground. He had at least 15 pounds on me, too. Kaleb approached me after class, congratulating me. He shone with pride, and that was a reward in itself.

  Despite nothing specific coming to me, I still go out to my bench and close my eyes, to see if anything comes back. I think over everything I already know. I go back to the guys calling us sluts, and the next piece comes to me: one of the men comes and gets in my face, and I freeze. Ana reached between us and pushed him, hard. “Get away from us,” she growled.

  That’s it, there’s nothing else. I’m shaking as I open my eyes. I didn’t even do anything! She came to my rescue. I’m dying to know what happened next, but my brain is drawing a blank. It really seems that the only thing that works is jiu-jitsu, so maybe I should ask Kaleb if he’ll give me some sessions in private. I’m not sure it’s a great idea, what with our feelings for each other, but I’m so desperate to have the answers. Maybe I’m a little desperate to spend time with him, too.

  Gazing distractedly across the park, I can see the front of the gym. Kaleb walks out, headphones in. He’s looking at something on his phone, and I take advantage of the moment to admire his body. I shouldn’t indulge myself like this, but it’s hard not to. He’s all lithe muscle and height. It’s crazy to compare him to the others coming out of the gym, he towers above them. A piece of inky hair falls over his eye, and he swipes it out of the way, looking up as he does so. He looks straight at my bench, making me think he must always check for me there. I smile and wave. He jogs towards me.

  “Hey, good job today,” he says, and I can tell it isn’t flippant. He really means it, and I know I worked hard too. “Mind if I sit?”

  I move my bag as an invitation, and he takes a seat a little bit closer to me than is absolutely necessary.

  “So, I wanted to ask you something,” I say, hesitant. Something in the back of my head is saying this isn’t the world’s greatest idea.

  “Shoot,” he answers, looking curious.

  “I’m really enjoying learning jiu-jitsu and mixed martial arts, but I kind of want more. I was wondering if you’d agree to give me some private lessons?” I pause for a second, to gauge his reaction. He seems receptive, so I continue, “I understand if you don’t think it’s a good idea, given our history, but if you agreed that’d be pretty cool…”

  He answers immediately, “Of course, Clara, I’d love to do that for you. I can actually get us a private room in the gym if you want since I work there. At the rate you’re training, you’ll have your blue belt in record time!”

  I chuckle, it is something I’ve thought about. I’d love to have proof of my hard work in the form of a belt. “Sure!” I say, enthusiastic. “Does tomorrow work for you?”

  Chapter 10

  I’m not sure why I’m so nervous, it’s not like we don’t know each other. But the idea of being alone, and in such close proximity, is a little strange. Part of me knows that I want to be with Kaleb at some undecided point in the future, and another part of me knows that as soon as that train gets started, it won’t slow down or stop. The only way out would be to jump, and that would be extremely painful. And right now, I can’t handle a full-speed ahead train. Maybe more like a bike. With training wheels on it.

  Kaleb arrives in the waiting area, and we give each other what is starting to be our trademark awkward hug. Awkward or not, it feels u
ndeniably pleasant to have our bodies touch. He leads me to a room in the back that is set up specifically for one-on-one training.

  We warm up together, pairing slow, deliberate movements with some cardio, things like jumping jacks and high-knees. It’s strange, to be alone together, but also nice. There’s some upbeat background music, so it isn’t awkward not to talk. It feels like we are just friends who like working out together, or even like we could be a couple… I know I shouldn’t think like that, but it’s hard not to. Especially when we start our actual practice, with Kaleb correcting my form, showing me how to properly do various movements, and occasionally actually fighting with me. It involves a lot of touches, this training. I wonder, though, if normal training involves this much contact.

  He shows me some new moves, focusing still on escapes and defense. I hope to soon learn some offensive moves, but for now, I am still content to know how to best defend myself. Kaleb suggests a new technique to help my martial arts skills to improve, which is to write down everything I learn in a journal so that I can study it at home. Not necessarily to practice them, but to keep them in mind so that I don’t forget they are in my repertoire for the next time I spar.

  During this session, I only have one flashback: Me, flat on my back, looking desperately around for Ana, who seems to have disappeared. I eventually find her: she is laying on her side, a little bit removed from the fray. All of the focus at that moment, by the men, now seems to be on me, but that could be because she seems to have lost consciousness. Maybe a conscious target is more entertaining.

  “Hey there, you okay?” Kaleb puts a hand on my shoulder and gives me a familiar concerned look.

  I nod, slowly, still trying to process what I saw. “This helps me remember things,” I remind him, “and I just remembered seeing Ana, passed out, on the ground. I don’t know what happened to her, though. She’s just there, as unconscious as she still is.”

  He looks a little uncomfortable, which I understand because that’s a hard thing to react to. He reaches out and pats my shoulder. “I really admire how you’re dealing with all of this, Clara. It must be so hard. And I think BJJ is a really healthy way of dealing with something traumatic like that.”

  I don’t think about it too hard because if I did, I probably would have hesitated, but I lean into him, wrapping my arms around his torso for a real, sincere hug.

  “It means a lot to me,” I whisper. He cups the back of my head with his hand, stroking my hair soothingly.

  We break apart, both not sure if what just happened was okay.

  “Anyways,” I say, “I think that’s good for today, don’t you?” We can continue another day.”

  Chapter 11

  On my way home, I call my mom. I have something on my mind that needs to be talked out…

  “Hey sweetie, how are you?” she asks, her voice motherly and soothing.

  “I’m pretty good,” I answer, honestly, “But I’ve been thinking about something, and I need your advice. Remember that guy Kaleb? Well… I think I might want to give it a go. Like, have him be my boyfriend. I just really like him, and when we’re together, I feel such a pull. I feel understood by him, and like I understand him, too. It’s hard to explain. I know I’m not in the best place right now, but he seems like something I shouldn’t let pass me by. What do you think?”

  My mom pauses for a while, and I can picture her gathering her thoughts on the other end of the line, probably absently curling a strand of gray hair around her finger. She often does that when thinking. “To hear the way you talk about him, I have a hard time imagining it would be a bad idea. I want you to be happy, Clara, and if you think that he would help you find happiness, I say why not. Maybe just try to take things slowly.”

  I sigh, frustrated. “But that’s just the thing! I don’t think I’m capable of taking it slow. I have a feeling that once we started, we’re going to be like a snowball or an avalanche. We’re not going to be in control anymore.”

  “Well, then maybe you have to wait until you can control yourself. Or until you’re ready to be moved along with the avalanche.”

  She’s right, of course. But I wish she could offer me some sage advice that would make everything easy and simple. I know that kind of solution doesn’t exist, though.

  Chapter 12

  I continue to hold back, hard as it is with group classes and private sessions with Kaleb. The sport is a good distraction, however; I can feel my muscles hardening and my endurance lengthening. I’m excited to learn new techniques every class, and to perfect the old ones. It’s a slow build because there are so many different holds, sweeps, and techniques. I have to remind myself that it’s better to really master a move before moving onto the next one. Kaleb is good at reminding everyone of this, refusing to teach us new moves until we have a good grasp of the old one. I feel like I can hold my own in a fight, especially against someone who isn’t expecting me to fight back, and especially now that I’m learning some offensive moves. I come to think of sparring as a chess match; you have to predict what your opponent is going to do before they do it, then plan your counter-move in accordance with that. It’s tiring, both mentally and physically, but rewarding in the end.

  In addition, the final bits and pieces of what happened to Ana and me, start to fit together more seamlessly. Sometimes I allow myself to imagine how things would have been different if I had the same skills that I have now. I picture myself kneeing the man in the crotch, bringing him to his knees, then taking advantage of his weakness to muscle him onto the ground, where I could get on top of him and beat him up. I imagine Ana and I calling the police and leaving together. It probably isn’t particularly useful, to think this way, but it reassures me somehow. If ever something like that happens to me again, I will be prepared. It also helps me to imagine Ana, up and walking. She will come back to me, I need to believe it. I will her to, with every spare thought I have.

  I’ve been to visit her a few times, but it’s hard. And she is usually surrounded by loved ones, so I don’t feel particularly necessary. I’ll go and hold her hand and tell her about my life though, just in case something in the sound of my voice will be what it takes to wake her up. She’s completely healthy, medically speaking. Just locked away, somehow. That’s what scares me. When you read about cases like that in books or see them on TV, it seems like the patient only wakes up years later. I don’t want that for Ana. I want her here with me, right now.

  Chapter 13

  One of the last pieces of the puzzle comes to me after a particularly sweaty private class with Kaleb. I stayed present during the whole class but knew that if I went outside to reflect for a bit after class something would come to me. I go through my usual routine. I pay attention to my breath and ground my feet to the earth. I’m there, laying on the ground, my head cushioned on something soft. The sound of sirens brings me to attention. I open my eyes to realize the cushion I feel is a lap, and the owner of the lap is looking down at me. His face is not clear in the dark, but something about the shape and feel of him is familiar. I can’t put my finger on why. It only took half a moment for my fear to take over, for me to scream out “get away from me!” and then the person is gone.

  He must be the person who was standing in the shadows as the ambulances loaded Ana and me into them. I should imagine that my first hypothesis must be true, that if he didn’t come forward, he must somehow also be implicit in the attack.

  I’m not sure what to make of this memory. It doesn’t seem very useful without the person, either assailant or savior, who I saw. As much as it doesn’t make sense, I want to believe that they had some other reason for not speaking to the police. The way they were holding my head felt so gentle and free of malice. Maybe I will never know, maybe all of the pieces will never fully fit together.

  That night the memory makes its way into my dreams, the face finally being clear. First, it’s Kaleb, then my mom, then Ana. All of them are jeering at me, telling me that I deserved to get hurt.


  Chapter 14

  Despite the fact that I improve every day as far as the mixed martial arts go, I can’t let myself be close to Kaleb. I treat him with respect, but some amount of coolness. Sometimes I can feel him try to get through to me, but I don’t let him. A combination of my distant and near past as long as my disturbing dreams make it impossible for me to take a risk on him right now.