A Five-Minute Life

by Emma Scott

  I wanted to be a choice she made, not a stranger she was forced to contend with. And it wasn’t fair to put that pressure on her, even if she never knew it. I knew it, and it wasn’t right.

  I needed to quit.

  After I walked Mr. Perello back to his room, I headed for the break room, hoping to catch Alonzo. I’d hand in my resignation. It’d be hard on the staff to fill my hours until they found a replacement, but they’d manage. Especially with a new director and increased funds. Blue Ridge would survive without me. Like Thea after a reset hit, they’d never know I was gone.

  Pity party, you big dummy?

  I shrugged Doris off. No pity. Just facts.

  But Alonzo wasn’t around, and I figured I should finish the full day’s work. I went to the rec room to clean up.

  I stopped short to see Dr. Chen at the shelf along one wall. Even from the door, I knew she was looking at Thea’s drawings. Dr. Chen held the paper and turned it slowly, reading the word chains.

  The broom handle banged against the door as I entered the room and Dr. Chen looked up.

  “Hello,” she said. She couldn’t be more than thirty-five, with a sharp intelligence in her eyes and a kind smile. “Don’t think we’ve met. I’m Dr. Christina Chen.”

  “Jim Whelan,” I said. “I can come back.”

  “You’re the one who stopped the orderly from assaulting Miss Hughes,” Dr. Chen said. “We’re all so grateful to you. Truly.” The doctor looked back at Thea’s drawings. “Have you seen these? Quite extraordinary.”

  “Yeah, I have,” I said, glancing behind me, expecting Delia Hughes to materialize in a cloud of green smoke. “Thea uses them to communicate. I think they’re her memory.”

  “Do you?” Her tone was inviting, not derogatory. “How so?”

  I crossed over to her. Hell, if I were going to quit anyway, I had nothing to lose. I pulled out the folded drawing I kept in my back pocket. “You see this one?” I pointed to the word chain:

  Rue true blue bluest sky eye my smile rile rain pain pain pain

  “Those are song lyrics,” I said. “‘Sweet Child O’ Mine.’ I played it for her when I took her for a walk, and she drew this the next day.”

  Dr. Chen’s eyes widened. “Has this happened more than once?”

  I found and showed her more examples, along with the drawing that clued me in to Brett’s assaults.

  Dr. Chen nodded. “I see.”

  Hope took flight in my heart. “D-D-Do you?”

  She nodded. “Dr. Stevens’ notes regard the word chains as Thea’s brain exercising itself the only way it knows how. But perhaps that’s because he had no context for them.”

  My heart skipped a beat. “Do they m-m-mean anything to you?” I asked, my jaw stiffening at that damn stutter.

  She cocked her head. “You have a slight disfluency, Jim?” Before I could answer, she said, “I only bring it up so that we can acknowledge it, and you don’t have to feel self-conscious.” Her focus went back to the word chains. “I heard about Thea’s painting. She ruined it as a result of the abuse happening to her at night?”

  “Yes,” I said. “Exactly. She r-r-remembers.”

  Dr. Chen studied the drawing a final time. “We’ll see. Some tests need to be run, of course.”

  “You can help her?”

  The doctor gathered the drawings into a stack and tucked them under her arm. “Before coming here, I completed a fellowship with Dr. Bernard Milton, one of the premiere neuropsychologists in Australia. He’s doing amazing, groundbreaking things to restore memory loss in special candidates, using stem cells and nanotechnology.”

  I listened, rapt. As if this woman were unspooling the secrets of the universe.

  “When my fellowship ended, I knew at once where I wanted to devote my attention—to Thea Hughes. I had no idea what I would find in her, but my professional curiosity demanded I work with one of the world’s worst cases of amnesia.” She gave me a wry grin. “Maybe my ego had a little to do with it, too.”

  My throat was dry. “And?”

  “Her file reads as if she were a typical traumatic brain injury patient with no hope of recovery. But between seeing her in person and this conversation right now, Mr. Whelan, I’m quite dumbstruck at how Thea’s case and Dr. Milton’s recent work might intersect.”

  I stared. “Is Thea a candidate for whatever he’s working on?”

  Dr. Chen smiled. “We’ll see. Can we speak again? I find those who work with patients on a daily basis often know more than their physicians.”

  “I’m not sure I’m going to be working here much longer.”

  “That’s a shame. Well, if you change your mind, I’ll be here.” She held up the drawings. “I’m going to be here quite a lot.”

  Chapter 17

  Jim

  For the next few weeks, Dr. Christina Chen kept every one of her promises to Delia. She spent hours with Thea, observing her, asking careful questions and taking notes. Pages and pages of notes.

  Not that I witnessed it myself. I kept my own promises, staying away from Thea, and Rita kept me updated.

  “I think Dr. Chen has a plan,” she said. “I think she might be able to do something for Thea.”

  I sank into the chair in the break room. “That’s good.”

  “Good?” Rita laughed. “Dr. Chen knows you knew Thea needed more than Magic Markers and scratch paper. You should—”

  “I’m leaving,” I said.

  Rita stared. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m going to put my two weeks in with Alonzo. I should have done it two weeks ago, but…”

  But I wanted to make sure Thea was going to be okay first.

  “Nope,” Rita said. “I won’t let you.”

  “It’s okay. It’s better this way.”

  “For who? Delia? But not Thea.” She leaned toward me. “She’s doing well, painting again, but she’s not like she was. She’s not as happy as she was when you were taking her for walks and—”

  “She’s not as happy because she’s still recovering from Brett,” I said. “It’s not me.”

  Rita crossed her arms and flumped back against her chair. “You were right about what made Thea happy, Jim, except you forgot to include yourself in that equation.”

  “It’s better—”

  “Stop saying that,” she cried. “It’s not better for you and Thea.”

  “There is no ‘me and Thea,’” I said, my skin burning. “F-F-Forget it.” I got to my feet and went to the door.

  “Jim,” Rita said, her soft tone stopping me. “You’re a good man. That you’re willing to leave her only proves it. But what about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “You put Thea’s happiness in all our faces. You made it important.”

  “Because it is.”

  “And yours? What about your happiness?”

  I don’t know what that is.

  “I gotta get back to work.”

  I found Alonzo on a bench outside, having his smoke break. He held up his hand before I could speak. “I know. Rita got to me first. Why?”

  I shrugged. “It’s just time.”

  “Is it about Miss Hughes?”

  “Maybe I just don’t want to work here anymore.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “So this is two weeks’ notice?”

  I nodded.

  Alonzo took a long pull off his smoke. “Okay. Can’t stop you. Can’t say that I’m glad though.”

  “It is what it is,” I said.

  He snorted. “If there was ever a more empty phrase in the English language—”

  “Hey, boss.” Joaquin rounded the corner. “Dr. Chen wants a meeting.”

  “All righty.” He hauled himself off the bench with a groan. “This should be interesting.”

  “She wants you there too, Jim,” Joaquin said.

  My head whipped up. “Me?”

  Alonzo chuckled. “You ain’t done with us yet.”

  In the conference room, Dr. C
hen sat riffling through a stack of notes and open leather-bound files in front of her, conferring quietly with a young, female intern.

  Anna and Rita sat together, talking in low voices. They both stopped and beamed when Alonzo and I came in.

  Delia Hughes did not beam. “What is he doing here?” she demanded.

  Dr. Chen muttered something to the intern who nodded and left the room, then she folded her hands on her papers and smiled warmly.

  “Mr. Waters, Mr. Whelan. Happy you could join us.” She turned to Delia. “I wanted everyone who’s been involved in Thea’s care present for what I have to say.” She glanced at me. “All things considered, I feel it’s only right.”

  Delia didn’t argue but watched as I took a seat beside Rita, who was vibrating with excitement that jumped to me like an electric current.

  “I’ll get right to it,” Dr. Chen said. “Dr. Stevens’ standing diagnosis of Thea states she’s unable to lay down new memories, and any memories of her life before the car accident have been washed away. The word chain phenomena in her artwork is, in his words, nothing more than her brain utilizing whatever limited means it had to express itself. I believe he’s wrong.”

  “Wrong,” Delia said. “In what way, exactly?”

  “Given my observations and the information provided me by the staff here, I feel there is a correlation between Thea’s artwork and what she experiences in her short window of consciousness.” Her smile widened. “I am prepared to change her diagnosis.”

  “To what?” Delia asked, while in my chest, my heart began to thud, as if counting off the seconds until Dr. Chen said something that was going to change Thea’s life forever.

  “Brain damage can result in the patient losing their long-term memory or losing the ability to create new memory. Or, as in Thea’s case, both. But current, new developments are revealing that there are rare instances in which a patient is able to retain and make memories, but the mechanism to recall them is what’s damaged. I believe that this is true for Thea.”

  “You mean… she hasn’t lost her memory?” Delia asked.

  Dr. Chen smiled. “Rather, she’s misplaced it. We’re going to help her get it back.”

  Holy shit, I thought. Hold on, Thea. They’re coming. They’re coming to get you out.

  Dr. Chen’s next words confirmed it.

  “Therefore, I believe she would be an ideal candidate for the procedure Dr. Bernard Milton is performing at the Sydney Medical Foundation.”

  “What kind of procedure?” Delia said.

  “Dr. Milton has developed a treatment involving stem cell surgery combined with a powerful binding agent that allows patients with this specific memory loss to repair the mechanism for recall so that memories—new and old—can be accessed.”

  As the words hovered in the air, Rita reached under the table to give my hand a squeeze.

  “Dr. Milton has already begun a trial of patients,” Dr. Chen continued. “They’re a few weeks ahead of us but their results, so far, have been encouraging. Though the risks are not inconsequential.”

  “What risks?” I asked, drawing everyone’s eye.

  “Are we talking open brain surgery?” Delia asked, giving me a sharp look to remind me Thea was her concern, not mine.

  Dr. Chen shook her head. “The surgery is a minimally invasive endoscopic, endonasal procedure, which also involves stem cell extraction from the pelvic bone and cerebrospinal fluid…” She waved her hands. “We are getting ahead of ourselves. There are preliminary tests that need to be done to ensure Thea is a proper candidate. Dr. Milton will want to fly in to perform them and the procedure himself. With your consent,” she said to Delia.

  A quiet descended over the room.

  “You’re saying this procedure might restore Thea’s memory,” Delia said slowly.

  “It’s a possibility, yes.”

  “All of her memories? From her life before the accident?”

  “Correct.”

  Delia’s glance flickered to each of us, watching her. Waiting. Holding our breath.

  “And if it works…”

  “If it works, Ms. Hughes,” Dr. Chen said, “this treatment will bring Thea back to life.”

  Chapter 18

  Jim

  “I’d like to be alone with Dr. Chen,” Delia said. “I have questions.”

  “Of course,” Anna said.

  “Thank you, Jim,” Dr. Chen said as we headed out. “Your information was particularly helpful.”

  I nodded, feeling Delia’s eyes on me.

  In the break room, Rita gave me a hug, her eyes shining. “You did this. Everything good that’s going to happen for Thea is because of you.”

  I slipped out of Rita’s embrace. “That’s not true.”

  “It is true, and you need to own it,” she said.

  “All right, I agree it’s very exciting news,” Anna said, “but we still have work to do.”

  The importance of Dr. Chen’s words sank in. I tried to imagine how Thea would be, out of her prison. Talking to her for longer than a few minutes. Her calling me Jimmy with the kind eyes. Her remembering me…

  Not gonna happen, you big dummy. Doris chuckled. Delia will see to that.

  Alonzo clapped me on the back. “Still putting in your notice?”

  “I don’t know…”

  He stared. “How do you not know?”

  Because nothing good lasts. I have to be able to walk away. It’s how I’ve survived.

  “If you’re worried about Delia, forget her,” he said. “If this miracle works on Thea, she’ll have something she hasn’t had in two years. Free will. Let her decide what she wants.”

  “Alonzo—”

  “You think you’re so replaceable?” he demanded with sudden fury. “You think I can pick up the phone and just find someone else? You think it’s gonna be easy for me not having you around?”

  To my shock his eyes were shining.

  “Forget it,” he said, shaking his head and heading out the door. “Do what you have to do. What do I care?”

  Over the next few days, the sanitarium was crawling with doctors. Dr. Bernard Milton and his team from Sydney flew in and began running tests on Thea. It only took two days to come to their conclusion.

  “They’re going to do it,” Rita cried. “Dr. Milton said she’s the perfect candidate and Delia’s given consent. Can you believe it? I’m so excited for her.”

  “Me too.”

  And scared shitless.

  I’d looked up Dr. Milton’s procedure. He’d performed it on a test group of patients in Australia a few weeks ago. I didn’t understand all the technical jargon, but I grasped the surgery involved drawing bone marrow from Thea’s hip bone. The stem cells would then be processed in a lab and married with neurons drawn from her spinal fluid. A procedure called neuroendoscopy would implant the cells into the damaged areas of her hippocampus via her nasal passage. After, she would take an oral medication—a sort of bonding agent—that acted as a bridge between neurons to facilitate the memory recall.

  The potential complications from surgery were aneurism, blood clots, and infection. The medication—which she’d have to take for the rest of her life—had its own risks, including elevated blood pressure and stroke.

  But if that’s what it took to break her out of her prison, then there was no choice, in my mind.

  The day came when Thea was transported from Blue Ridge down to Roanoke Memorial. Delia and Rita went with her, gently guiding Thea toward the medical van, talking soothingly to her along the way.

  “When she comes back,” Alonzo said, standing next to me at the front door, “she’ll really be back.”

  I nodded, watching her disappear into the van. His hand landed on my shoulder.

  “She’ll be okay,” he said. “She’s survived the worst thing already. She’s a tough girl.”

  I nodded again. Thea was tough. Stronger than anyone I knew to endure her amnesia for years without going crazy. Still, I felt like I was
holding my breath as the days creaked by, one by one.

  At night, I sat on my couch in my empty house and played “I Will Follow You into The Dark” and prayed that they’d bring Thea out of the dark for good.

  Thea came back on what was technically my last day at Blue Ridge, although Alonzo refused to acknowledge it. Joaquin needed me to cover his midday/evening shift, so I rolled into the sanitarium around noon. The parking lot was fuller than usual, and the medical van was parked out front.

  In the break room, I began to change into my uniform, fumbling over the buttons, my heart pounding.

  She’s here. She’s right here.

  Footsteps pounded down the hall and the door burst open.

  “You’re here,” Rita cried, breathless. She grabbed my hand. “Come with me to the rec room. Now.”

  “I can’t,” I said, my throat dry.

  “You have to,” she said, her smile bursting over her face. “I insist. You have to see this.”

  “But Delia—”

  “Delia can suck it. Come on.”

  I followed her upstairs to the rec room. It was full of doctors and staff, clustered in a loose circle. In the center was Thea. She wore pajama pants and a matching shirt. Barefoot, her hair tousled as if she’d just woken up. Her face was free of makeup and her luminous blue eyes looked as if they held all the happiness in the world.

  She’s so fucking beautiful…

  Alonzo stood off to the side, watching with a joyful smile on his face. Delia kept close to her sister, her expression wary, not daring to let herself be happy yet.

  Anna led Thea around, introducing her to the people who had been taking care of her for two years.

  “And this is Nurse Sarah,” Anna said. “You remember her?”

  “I do,” Thea said. “Hi, Sarah.” The doctors all bent their heads to take notes as Thea threw her arms around the nurse’s neck. “I’m so happy to meet you. Again and for the first time.” She laughed, a ripple of pure joy that filled the rec room. “I remember all of this. All of you. It’s like a dream slowly coming back.”