Jasmine waved to the family and then walked back toward the emergency room entrance. She was thinking about the phone call she would have to make to Dr. Gascon and then all of the questions she would likely get from the Chief of Staff for allowing Amanda’s unorthodox release. No matter what the consequences, she knew she had done what was best for her patient. She would have to keep that firmly in mind for the next few days or possibly even weeks.
Amanda could not help but stare out the window at all of the buildings, trees, people, and cars as they traveled. Everything looked different than she remembered. The cars were the most changed since so many models of cars had been released in the time she was sleeping. She had thought she would ask her mother what the cars were, but realized her mother was not very good with that sort of thing on the best of days; it would be a conversation her father would love to have with her.
The ride took about twenty-five minutes and Amanda was starting to feel the effects of all of her adventures catching up with her. The thought of the bed in her bedroom sounded like ambrosia. Finally they pulled into the driveway of their house. Just as her mother had said, the house looked exactly the same. Amanda was relieved to have at least one constant in her life. Her mother pulled the car into the garage and waited for the garage door to close behind them before she got out of the car.
“Wait right there in your seat, Amanda. I’m going to come around and help you out of the car. The last thing we need is for you to hurt yourself getting out and then we’d be right back at the hospital.” She unfastened her seatbelt and got out of the car. She walked around the front and opened the passenger door. She leaned in and offered her arm for Amanda to use to lever herself up out of the seat.
Amanda was weaker than she had thought she would be. She was glad her mother had decided to help. She leaned heavily on her mother’s arm all the way to her bedroom. Within moments she was spread out on top of her bed. She did not even care about the covers at that time, she was asleep within seconds.
Chapter Twelve
AMANDA CONVALESCED ON the living room couch in front of the television. She had a view of the window out front so she could see people coming and going, but mostly she spent her time watching the news. Her parents had not let her use the computer yet, they said they wanted her stronger before she found new ways to exhaust herself.
She kept her journal on the coffee table so whenever she thought of something new to put into it, she would have it handy. Her mother had asked her what she had been writing and Amanda had answered her. She had also requested it remain private so she would not have to worry about what she wrote. Her mother had honored her request, but Amanda could tell she was terribly curious. Amanda was not ready to share for fear of being thought crazy and, therefore, being sent to a therapist like Dr. Gascon. She would not put herself in that position again.
There she was, thinking it had all been real. She did not know what had been real, if any, and what had been fantasy. She included it all in the journal so she could review the facts at a later date. At the moment she was afraid to go back over what she had already written, but she had a nagging feeling she would need to know everything.
She had been home for almost two months and she spent every weekday afternoon in physical therapy sessions. Knowing the only way she would regain her privileges as an independent adult would be to be able to take care of herself again, she pushed herself at every appointment. Her physical strength had improved immensely, but her endurance still needed more help. Every day was an improvement.
On one of her outings to therapy she happened to see someone walking down the sidewalk who looked eerily familiar. She could not be positive, since it had only been a glimpse as they drove down the road, but she thought he looked an awful lot like Riccan. She did not know how that would be possible since she had only met him in her dreams. She had also met Dr. Medin in her dream, but she rationalized that by the fact she was treating her while she was comatose. Riccan was a different story. She needed to do some research and, for that, she would need to use the internet.
Today she would insist on using her father’s laptop computer. She flipped through the channels bored with the usual choices of Maury, Judge Judy, or public broadcasting. With disgust she switched the television off and sat on the edge of the couch. She contemplated writing in her journal, but instantly dismissed the idea. Her mind was consumed with accessing the internet she had yet to see.
With her mother busy in the kitchen, Amanda went into her father’s office and picked up the laptop from off his desk. She returned to her spot on the couch, plugged in the computer, flipped open the screen, turned it on, and waited for it to boot up. She startled badly when her mother appeared in the doorway.
“What are you doing, Amanda?” her mother accused.
“I’m definitely strong enough to do some research on the computer. You have to admit I’ve been getting along rather well, even the physical therapist told you I could stop coming every day.” Amanda watched the computer screen rather than look at her mother. She did not feel nearly as confident as she sounded to her mother.
“I guess it can’t hurt. It’s not as if you’re exerting yourself sitting on the couch,” she admitted. Diane was going to speak to her husband about leaving his computer out in the open. She was not convinced Amanda could emotionally handle the things she was sure to be researching. “I came in to tell you that lunch was ready. Do you want to eat it in here or at the dining room table?”
“Here, please,” Amanda decided immediately. She did not want to give her mother any opportunity to take the computer away now that she had it in her lap. Finally, the main screen came up and Amanda stared at the dozens of icons on the screen. She had no idea what to do now that the computer was ready since the operating system had changed so drastically.
She used the mouse to hover over every icon until she came to one named ‘Internet Explorer.’ Thinking that was the most likely one, she clicked on it and another blank screen which simply said ‘Yahoo’ appeared. She wondered what she was supposed to do with it when she finally noticed the box beneath the one word. She clicked on the box and typed in the one word which had plagued her mind most: Tuala. She hit the enter button and waited to see what search results came up.
Disappointed she scrolled through the screen and saw textiles and athletes with the name, but nothing about another world. She did not know why she thought it would be common knowledge since nobody seemed to know what she was talking about. That lead was obviously a dead end so she put in the next item she was intensely interested in finding out more about: Riccan Stel.
She entered the name and clicked enter. Her heart began to race as she saw several entries bearing his name. One of them contained a small picture and she clicked on it to get a bigger view. Once it loaded, she gasped as she stared at Riccan’s face, the same face she knew from her ‘dream.’ She studied the picture and saw Riccan standing in front of an airplane. She tore her gaze away from the picture to read the caption below: ‘Riccan Stel generously donates his time and his Cessna 182S Skylane to locate missing teens.’
Amanda had her first truth to her dream, Riccan was real. She was certain she had never met him on Earth before so there was no way she could incorporate him into her supposed dream. Uncertain how the internet actually worked she tried to locate any personal information such as an address or phone number, to no avail.
Diane returned from the kitchen with a sandwich and chips on a plate. She set it down on the table and sat down on the couch next to her daughter. She looked over at the screen and asked, “What are you looking up?”
“Someone I thought I knew. I saw him walking down the street on the way to therapy,” Amanda replied as she leaned forward and picked up the plate. She was hungry, as always.
“Who is he? Have I met him?” she asked since she’d seen the picture of a man displayed.
“Maybe,” she said offhandedly. Her memory had him staying in this very house, but that obvio
usly had not been true since her mother did not recognize him. She bit into the sandwich and set it back down on the plate she had placed on the couch cushion on her other side.
She hit the back button and scrolled down through the other entries with Riccan’s name attached. He seemed to be associated with NHRA Drag Racing and had even won a Wally which she could see a picture of him holding it proudly above his head while still wearing the racing gear. She smiled as she took note of the happy expression on his face. She missed the time they had spent together. If she could just find him again, she might get some answers to her millions of questions.
Because she had discovered Riccan was a real person and not just a figment of her imagination, she started to formulate a plan. The first course of action would be to regain her independence. To accomplish that she would need to go to the DMV and renew her driver’s license. She missed the freedom of being able to get into her car and travel wherever sounded like fun.
She reviewed the last couple of entries in her journal which were about Riccan. The best plan of action seemed to be locating Riccan Stel. He was her last point of contact with Tuala so it made a certain sense to have him be her first point of contact to get back. If that did not work out then she would have to think of some other way to go back to Tuala. She had done it before when her family had traveled to Roswell, except for the fact it had only happened in her mind apparently. She could not worry about trivial details such as that right now.
If she had talked to a therapist about her latest obsession she was sure she would be locked up in Cannon Memorial Asylum. Instead she kept every detail of her plans in her head only. She could not even risk writing it in her journal for fear her mother actually did read it. Amanda was not normally a paranoid person, but her experiences, whether real or not, had made her extra cautious.
Amanda thought about what other clues she had readily available which would aid her search to find Tuala. Suddenly she raised her hand and touched the crystal around her neck. The warmth of the crystal was always present and she knew it contained a power all of its own. She was sure if she had it tested it would come back as a carbon-based stone such as that found on Earth, so that particular avenue was a dead end. The power the crystal harnessed would be something to look into when her mother was busy somewhere else.
She looked over at her mother and discovered she had been watching her closely. There was a look of deep concern on her mother’s face. Feeling embarrassed at being caught daydreaming, Amanda swiftly looked away, picked up her sandwich and took a bite.
“Amanda, I wish you’d talk with me. You could tell me anything and I would support you. You know that, right?” Diane put her hand on her daughter’s knee with the hope of getting her to open up about her thoughts.
With her mouth full, she just nodded and stared down at the sandwich in her hands. There were some things she just could not share; not yet anyway. She hated the idea her mother thought she was being secretive or withdrawn, but she could not take the risk in sharing until she had concrete evidence to support her story.
“I’ll let you eat then. I have to go run some errands. Do you need anything from the store?” Diane asked as she stood up from the couch. She wished Amanda were still the outgoing and spontaneous girl she remembered instead of being so quiet and remote. Diane scolded herself for even being ungrateful for anything with regard to Amanda since she had practically returned from the dead.
“No thanks, Mom. I’m good,” she replied as she tipped her sandwich to show she was going to continue eating. “I’m going to check out this internet thing a little more while I eat and then I’ll probably go take a nap. There’s no need for you to rush. You’ll know where I’ll be when you get back.” She smiled at her mom to try to ease her worries.
Diane wanted to believe everything would be fine so she simply nodded and left the room. She had so much more time in her day now that it was not spent sitting vigil at the hospital. There was so much she had let slide over the years because of her worry for Amanda, now she was making up for lost time. Diane had even thought about returning to work now that things were finally getting back to normal. She would wait a few months before making a decision as drastic as that.
Amanda could hardly believe she had just thought about her mother finding something to do outside of the house and in the next breath her mother was actually leaving. She wanted to see if her necklace actually did have the power she remembered from before. It was as though the memory of her time in the asylum was designed to remind her of the crystal’s power. Bursting with curiosity, she had to give it a try.
After a few more minutes of listening to her mother gathering her personal items, closing the door to the garage, hearing the car back down the driveway, and watching as her mother drove away, Amanda was anxious to test her necklace. She considered whether to leave the chain around her neck or to take it off, she settled on cradling the crystal in her hand. She concentrated and nothing happened. With more than a little frustration she recalled how simple of a matter it had seemed in the asylum. She wondered if her doubt played any part in her lack of success.
She finally gave up on her necklace and returned her attention to the computer. The screen had gone blank and she had to take a moment to renew her internet session. With the Yahoo screen back up she typed in the words ‘Shemalla and Roswell.’ She knew it was a long-shot, but Shemalla was the only other person she knew of who had any connection with Tuala. Amanda was not terribly surprised when the search results came back with nothing.
Amanda tried not to get frustrated with her lack of progress. She would just have to spend a little more time thinking through all of her clues. After about a half hour more time spent searching for random clues on the internet she finally decided to give it a break. She shut down the computer and returned it to her father’s office. She took her empty lunch plate into the kitchen and put it into the dishwasher before she walked to her bedroom to lie down for a bit.
At the entrance to her bedroom she spotted the outfit which had been given to her from Barla. She raced over to the chair where the clothes were folded and picked them up. This was it; this was the clue she needed to prove Tuala was real. Barla had told her the clothing was made from foxl fur which was not a fiber which would be found on Earth. If she could have the fibers tested, she would have concrete evidence to back up her story. Amanda knew it would not prove everything she remembered, but it was definitely a good start.
“Thank you, Barla,” she whispered to herself as she hugged the shirt to her chest. She refolded the clothing and set it back on the chair. With renewed hope she climbed into her bed, curled up, and fell asleep.
Chapter Thirteen
AMANDA BIDED HER time and planned for her future while she waited for the doctor to finally sign off on her request to obtain her driver’s license. Apparently, coma victims are not allowed to have driving privileges until they can go six months without any type of relapse. That time frame had come and gone and Amanda was chomping at the bit to regain her freedom.
At first she had only wanted to stay at home and feel safe, but slowly she had regained her confidence in herself and her surroundings. After the initial shock of seeing all of the things which had changed over the years, she was now used to the differences and was ready to begin exploring on her own. She was slightly disgusted by her mom’s lack of confidence in her ability to take care of herself, but she understood how scared her mother had been for years.
Today was the day when she was meeting with Dr. Medin for her final check-up. She felt strong and healthy. There was nothing she could think of which would interfere with her getting her life back on track. She sat in the passenger seat of her mother’s car as they drove to the hospital.
They parked in the visitor garage and walked across the street to enter the hospital. This was the first time she had been back to the hospital since she had first made her escape with Dr. Medin’s help. She still smiled at the memory of that day. It had been both e
xciting and nerve-wracking, much like today was starting to feel.
After getting directions to the doctor’s office, Amanda and her mother trekked through the hospital. Amanda was not quite sure what would be taking place with the doctor, but she imagined there would be a physical exam. She was prepared.
Finally, after a couple of wrong turns and questioning several nurses, they found themselves facing Dr. Medin’s closed office door. Amanda knocked and waited for an answer. She heard a faint ‘come in’ and opened the door to reveal her worst nightmare.
Dr. Stephen Gascon stood up and faced Amanda with his hand outstretched in greeting, “Amanda, my name is Dr. Gascon. It’s so good to finally meet you. I’ve read so much on your case I feel as though I already know you.”
Amanda stood frozen with her hand on the doorknob. She did not move forward or even acknowledge that the doctor had spoken. The thing which startled her the most was that Dr. Gascon looked exactly as she remembered from her dream. She knew she had never met him before so there would be no way for her to know his steely gaze and overconfident, pompous attitude. Her eyes hastily shifted to Dr. Medin who was still seated behind her desk. The look on her face told Amanda she was sorry for the ambush.
Diane walked past Amanda and took Dr. Gascon’s hand. “Hello, Dr. Gascon, I’m Amanda’s mother, Diane Covington.” She looked over at Dr. Medin and asked, “I was brought to believe we were meeting with just you today. Was I mistaken?”
“No, Diane. It was going to be just a follow-up, but…” she looked toward the Director of Psychiatry and finally finished, “Dr. Gascon insisted he needed to meet Amanda. He wanted to be a part of her follow-up evaluation.”
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