Amnesia (19 page)

“So I decided to take on pediatrics, not for the kids, though they are great, but for the parents. When I completed my fellowship, I hooked up with a broker whose job it is to find practices for seeking doctors, and he hooked me up with some partners here in Boise. The rest is history.”

“That’s quite a story,” Bill commented when she had finished. “Did it end up the way you wanted it to?”

“Actually it really has,” she answered thoughtfully, “but not like I thought it would. In some ways the parents are the ones that boost me. Like this one little girl I’m watching. She has a nasty form of cancer that is just eating up her little body. When I gave them the diagnosis, I tried to comfort them, but just watching all of them together, the way the supported each other, gave me the hope I was trying to give to them. It’s amazing what a loving family can do for each other.”

She trailed off, a
faraway
look in her eyes as she remembered the moment a few days ago with Tracey Randall. She shook her head to clear the image, and realized that she had done all of the talking, and knew absolutely nothing about the man sitting across from her.

“So what about you, Mr. Lowell, what is your background?”

“Me, well, it’s nothing life changing like yours. My dad was a cop in the Rupert/Burley area, and his father before him. Just like so many police today, we do it because it’s in our blood.”

She figured there was probably more to it than that, but he was allowing her to keep her secrets, it was the least she could do to allow him to keep his. She checked her watch and realized it was nearing ten o’clock, and was shocked to realize that they had been talking for nearly two hours.

“Oh my, I have to go home and change before my first appointment,” she said, suddenly standing up and picking up her tray. She couldn’t quite bring herself to admit just how much she liked talking to someone who seemed genuinely interested in her. Unlike Darrion, who was genuinely interested in Darrion. She didn’t have to reveal her thoughts however, it seemed Bill shared them.

“I can’t tell you how much I’ve enjoyed this,” he smiled. “Do you think we can share a fine meal like this again sometime?”

“Not on your life!” she joked. “Next time, you get to take me to someplace that has real food!”

The both laughed at that, taking their trays to the dishwasher conveyer belt. They continued together out to the parking lot, where she noticed for the first time that the Suburban was also parked in the patient parking. They walked up to her borrowed Lumina, where he opened the driver’s door for her.

“I really mean it, that I’d like to get together again,” he told her sincerely. “Are you busy this week?”

“I’m busy tonight, but other than being on call, I’m free the rest of the week.”

“How about tomorrow, Thursday night?” he offered.

“Sounds good to me,” she accepted. Her week might actually turn out alright after all, she thought.

“Thursday it is then. I’ll pick you up at 7:00,” he smiled broadly. She decided he looked much better when he smiled, a thought which brought a smile to her own lips.

She got in the car and started the engine. She put the car in gear and started to back out before she realized that she had wanted to check on the two patients in long-term care. She pulled the car back into the stall, shut off the engine, and then went back in the building and up to the seventh floor. She decided to check on Lenny Marconi first.

The first thing she noticed was that there was a policeman sitting outside the door to his room; a guard to ensure no one else would try to hurt the patient. She headed instead for the nurses’ station to find out how he was progressing. The floor nurse quietly explained that the man was doing well, but was sedated; the doctors allowing him to recuperate. She was also told that she would be unable to see him, as the police captain had given strict orders on who was able to access the room, and her name wasn’t on the list.

She was surprised at first that Captain McConnell had chosen to keep her out of the room after she was the one who had saved his life, but then realized that it was actually a smart move. Not including her on the list actually gave the impression that she was an innocent bystander who had simply wandered in at the right time and was a good diagnostician. At the same time she felt a chill course through her at the thought that she had a need to remain anonymous.

Instead she headed over to her mystery patient, whom she had decided to call Robbie. She walked toward his room and noticed he was wearing a pair of scrubs rather than the typical hospital gown. He was listening intently to instructions being given to him by a physician standing out of view.

She slowed her step, not wanting to interrupt, and overheard the doctor’s soliloquy. “…it may never come back, and that may not necessarily be a bad thing. Usually the trauma inflicting this type of loss is so significant that the brain simply cannot function with that reality.”

“So I’m nuts?” Robbie responded, mostly confused, but tinged with anger.

“Not at all,” was the response. “You’ve simply had a trauma that your reason hasn’t quite come to grips with, and wants to keep hidden from your conscious mind. It should return once you are able to handle it. Or it may never return if the trauma was significant enough. The best thing to do is to get back into normal life, and get your life into a comfortable order. You just need to learn to live with things as they are; take control of what is before you. Perhaps you can look at it as a new beginning, a fresh start. You have a blank slate in front of you that will allow you to be whatever and whoever you want to be. Some would look at this as a gift.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” Robbie voiced resignedly. “It just doesn’t feel like much of a gift right now.”

“I’m sure it doesn’t, but if you become bitter and depressed about it, you’ll probably never get your memory back.”

Lissa decided that this was her cue to enter the room. She glanced over to see Doctor Cliffe standing there, his kind understand face so compassionate it nearly brought tears to her eyes considering the conversation of how this young man’s life was forever changed. She smiled at the elderly gentleman, seeing him again as a gracious grandfather, bestowing love and wisdom on his grandchildren.

She looked back over to the patient sitting on the edge of the bed, intent to wish him a good morning and determine his status. Instead, as she looked into his worried eyes she found herself again lost in their depths. She had forgotten how wonderfully blue they were, and felt herself being pulled into them, their hearts connecting through that intangible, though very palpable, tie that bound them together in a way neither could understand.

She yearned to know the man that lived behind those eyes, wanting to know every thought, every desire. Yet in some unknown way she felt she knew him better than if they had spent a thousand years in conversation.

There was also the feeling that she wanted to blend her own dreams with his, knowing that they would mesh perfectly together, creating a symbiotic union that would strengthen them both, building upon each other’s strengths, supporting each other in their weakness.

Simply put, gazing into his eyes, she felt that she could touch eternity; that all that had gone on before and all that lie ahead blending into a whole present; that time was meaningless while they were together. She
k
new it should have frightened her, but instead it left her feeling calm and peaceful, that all is as it should be. It was a gift to be cherished.

The moment was over nearly as quickly as it appeared. Lissa stood before the man known only as Robbie, her hand stretched out in greeting. He took her hand, intent to simply shake it, instead sending an electric pulse through both of them at the contact. She let her hand remain in his for a moment, unwilling to let the feeling pass too quickly, releasing only when she realized her breath was becoming labored, as if she had been running. Her first inclination was to be embarrassed, but that was quickly dispelled, as she realized the reaction was shared by both.

Suddenly remembering that they were not alone and, despite the volumes of sharing that had just passed between them, she had not spoken a single word since entering the room, she forced her mind back to reality, but not without a sharp pang of disappointment.

“Good morning. I take it there is good news?” she intoned to the patient. Her voice still had a slight quiver from the still unsettled emotions in her breast.

She watched the worry creep back into his expression, realizing only by the contrast that he had worn a look of satisfaction and wonder just before she spoke. She found it odd that she hadn’t noticed when it had altered from the initial look of worry that he affected when she had entered.

“I’m not sure how good the news is. I’m being released.” His tone was one of discouragement brooking on despair.

“I thought that was a good thing,” Doctor Brandon responded, concern now creasing her own brow. “Most of my patients can’t wait to get out of here.”

“Most of your patients have a home to go to when they leave.”

She turned back to look at Doctor Cliffe, startled that he was still in the room. She could tell that the words he spoke bore testimony to his deep-seated concern for his patients’ well-being, both medically and emotionally. She felt again her desire to be the kind of doctor he was, along with a healthy dose of gratitude that she would be privileged to know and work with the man.

She turned back to Robbie. “I’m sorry, I hadn’t thought of that. Do you have any idea of what you’re going to do?”

“Not a clue.” He looked so miserable she felt her own heart breaking. She had to help him, she decided. She drew her chin up, squared her shoulders, and sealed her resolve with her promise. “We’ll figure something out. You’ll be just fine.”

The look of hope and gratitude on his face proved the correctness of her decision. His independence nearly brought forth a stubborn protestation she could see, but instead he simply said, “Thank-you.”

She smiled warmly at him, and then turned to Doctor Cliffe. “Will that be okay? Do you have any suggestions?”

He returned her contagious smile, along with a look somewhat akin to pride. “That will be just fine.” His tone then became more serious and thoughtful as the conspirators sought a solution to their dilemma. “Unfortunately, I don’t have any advice. He doesn’t have any money for a hotel, and we aren’t sure what his job skills are.”

The older doctor turned back to his patient, whose face registered the blows that had just been delivered, albeit kindly. “Sorry to be so blunt, but we need to understand the situation as it is. No, what we need is some sort of a halfway house, where he can stay while he is trying to get his feet back under him. I’d offer you my place, but it’s in Emmett, and there’s no way back into Boise without your own car.”

“Thank-you anyway Doctor,” Robbie replied, “I wouldn’t ask that of you anyway.”

“I have it!” Lissa nearly screeched with excitement as the solution appeared in her head. She felt certain that it would work out, and rapidly explained her thoughts to the two men with whom she felt a growing attachment. They both agreed that it sounded like the ideal plan, and soon the trio were laughing and conversing like old friends reuniting after a period of separation.

All too soon they realized that their time was spent, both doctors having appointments that needed attendance. Robbie, dressed in scrubs to replace his discarded clothing, stepped up to a waiting taxi, and placed his nearly empty bag of personal items on the seat, then turned to his newfound friends.

“Thank you Dr. Cliffe. I’m so glad you’re my doctor.”

“It is my pleasure my boy. You take care of yourself, and come see me in a couple of days. We still have to get the insulin regulated, and I want to make sure amnesia is the only side-effect of your recent accident.”

“I will,” Robbie promised. He then turned to Lissa.

“Are you sure about all of this?” he asked, still uncomprehending her willingness to help him, yet hoping she wouldn’t back out.

“I’m sure. Just hold tight like we discussed, and it will all be fine.”

He reached out to shake her hand, creating another electric pulse upon contact. Feelings rising to the surface again relegated the handshake to nothingness, his need for inclusion becoming too great, and he threw his arms around her, holding her tightly. She returned the gesture, feeling her own sense of disconnectedness, and for a long moment they both stood there, their worlds disappearing beyond their embrace.

“Hey Buddy, the meter’s rolling!” The driver’s voice cut through their reverie, ruining the moment and bringing reality crashing back down on the two. They parted clumsily, said their farewells, and the taxi drove off toward town.

*
             
             
*
             
             
*

Jack McConnell hung up the phone disconnecting the call from the Astoria Police Department. He leaned back in his chair only partially grateful he had posted the picture from Doctor Brandon’s stolen ID. The detective protecting the citizens on the Oregon coast confirmed the identity of the scarred man, having recognized the picture as one Rudolph “Rudy” Scardoni—a mean and nasty thug whose favorite pastime was killing and maiming anyone he came across.