Memory's Edge: Part One (2 page)

Chapter Two

Simple

Sunday
night wasn’t the busiest night of the week at the hospital. That seemed
unusual, but Gretchen didn’t dwell on it. She sat waiting in the Emergency Room
lobby with only two other people, a guy with a broken pinky and woman holding a
sick baby. Nurses and doctors zipped up and down the halls as they went back
and forth between patients. Every time she saw one, she sat forward in
anticipation. She’d already been there for two hours with no updates.

Gretchen
had been on her way home from an education seminar in Albuquerque. Long and
tiring, the seminar had drug on all day. Getting home and flopping onto the
couch to catch up on her favorite shows had been her motivation for making it
through the day. So much for that plan. Now she only wanted to know what was
happening. Her head slipped into her hands as she wondered whether she would
even make it home before the sun came up.

“Miss
Gesner?”

Gretchen’s
head popped up immediately. “Yes? How is he?”

The doctor’s
feet opened up and his hands folded across his chest. He looked as though he
were settling in. Expression empty, he gave no hint of what he was about to
say. Gretchen’s chest seized up in panic. Was the man dead?

“You’re not
family. I’m not technically at liberty to discuss his case with you.”

“Please, I
just want to know if he’s going to be all right. Besides, you don’t have any
idea who he is. He may not have any family.”

The doctor
sighed and rubbed his head. “Fine, fine. He’s in pretty bad shape, but we’ve
done all we can for now. He’s still in critical condition, but we have him
stabilized for the time being and are moving him to another floor for
observation and continued care,” the doctor said.

“How bad
was it?” she asked.

“He has a
crushed ankle, a tibia broken in several places, and three broken ribs. One of
the broken ribs very nearly punctured a lung. He was lucky there, at least.
Bruising and swelling over about eighty percent of his body. A concussion.
Thirty-seven stitches between the lacerations on his head, arms, and leg, and
he has a cracked radius,” he said. “That’s the forearm.” His condescending tone
made her want to grab the clipboard out of his hand and hit him with it.

She nodded
irritably instead. Gretchen knew where the radius was. She taught biology at
one of the local high schools. In fact, she had to be back to work the next day
at seven-thirty in the morning. The doctor didn’t know any of that, though. He
didn’t know anything about her. Taking in a deep breath, she pushed her
annoyance away. “Is he going to be okay?”

“Most of
his injuries should heal eventually,” the doctor said, pausing, still looking
more tired than concerned, “but the main problem is that he still isn’t
reacting to stimuli.”

“He’s in a
coma?” The poor man. If he didn’t wake up, how would anyone ever find out who
he was? What if someone was looking for him? They would never know what had
happened to him. “Is he
going
to wake up?” she asked.

“There’s no
way of knowing for sure. He may remain in a coma for the rest of his life, or
he may wake up tomorrow,” the doctor said with a weary shrug. “He took some
severe trauma to his head and there does appear to be some damage, but it’s
hard to know the extent yet. We’re monitoring his brain activity for the time
being. The scans are showing some activity, but there’s no way of knowing when
or if he’ll wake up.”

The doctor
glanced over his shoulder as a nurse walked down the hall toward him. She
whispered something to him before turning back the way she had come. “I need to
go, but if you have any more questions, talk to one of the nurses. If no one
else is available, you can ask for me, though I’m the only doctor on staff
tonight so I can’t guarantee I’ll get back to you very quickly. I’m Dr. Kent,
in case you need to find me.”

He made a
quick nod and started away from Gretchen.
If
she had any more questions?
Of course she had more questions. She had nothing but questions. Marching over
to the reception desk, Gretchen asked the one question she needed answered
most.

“Can I see
the John Doe the paramedics brought in a few hours ago?”

Glancing at
her computer, the receptionist read something on the screen before shaking her
head. “I’m sorry. It looks like Dr. Kent hasn’t cleared him for visitors. He’s
being moved to the ICU. Only family members are allowed in his room.”

“But, I’m
the one who found him. He doesn’t have any family here.”

“I’m sorry.
There’s nothing I can do until he’s moved out of ICU.”

“Thank
you,” Gretchen said dismally. She wasn’t ready to go home yet. Empty chairs
waited to greet her again but, before she could claim one, a hand on her
shoulder stopped her. She looked at the scrubs-clad woman in surprise.

“You found
John Doe?” she asked. Gretchen nodded and the nurse began towing her down the
hall. “Dr. Kent isn’t the most compassionate guy in the world, but he’s lax on
visitation. Stay out of the way, and no one will mind if you’re in his room.
Poor man’s been through enough without having to wake up alone in strange
place.”

“Thank
you.” Relief flooded the antiseptic halls as they rushed through them. After an
elevator ride, and what felt like miles of walking, the nurse stopped in front
of a darkened room. She peeked through the door to make sure it was empty of
staff before ushering Gretchen inside.

Seeing him
again was harder than she expected. It was worse to see him bandaged up,
wrapped in plaster, and strapped to the bed in case he woke up and panicked.
The majority of his skin not covered by the hospital gown was bandaged. He was
lost inside the wall of gauze. Pulling a chair up to his bed allowed Gretchen
to sit down next to him.

His chest
moved up and down shallowly, but the heart monitor kept beeping at a steady
cadence, giving her hope he would pull through. She wanted to take his hand and
let him know someone was there, but the dark purple splotches covering his skin
held her back. Instead, Gretchen sat by his side watching his labored
breathing, and following the jagged line that tracked his heartbeat. She
watched and waited, and couldn’t help but wonder about his life.

Did he have
a family? If he did, did they even know he was missing? What was he doing out
on the highway? Was he just passing through, or was he from New Mexico? Most of
all, she wondered what led to him being beat up and left for dead in the middle
of the desert.

Gretchen
sat watching his chest rise and fall until her eyelids began copying the
motion. She knew she was about to fall asleep, but she couldn’t leave. He had
nobody. Adjusting herself in the uncomfortable chair, she tried to stay awake.

“He can
hear you if you talk to him.”

The voice
startled Gretchen. Trying to recover from the surprise, she turned to see who
had spoken. A middle-aged nurse in pale pink scrubs, not the one who had snuck
her into the man’s room a few hours ago, stood behind Gretchen with a sad
smile.

“Can he
really?” Gretchen asked.

Nodding,
the nurse moved over to the side of the bed and checked his vitals. “There have
been plenty of studies saying coma patients are at least partially aware of the
sounds around them,” she said. “Plus, it helps the family, too.” She marked
everything down in the chart and turned back to Gretchen. “The other nurse told
me what happened to this guy. It’s too bad. You’re real sweet to stay with him.”

“I just
want to make sure he’s going to be okay,” Gretchen said. “I feel responsible
for him. Does that sound weird?”

“Not at
all. When he wakes up, he’ll be glad to know somebody cared.” Setting the chart
back down in the sleeve at the end of the bed, she stuffed her pen back into
her pocket. “Talk to him. It will make you both feel better.”

Shaking her
head, Gretchen said, “I don’t know what to say. I don’t even know him.”

“Then
introduce yourself. My name’s Maria, by the way.” She held her hand out and
Gretchen shook it. “Just press the call button if you need anything. Oh, and
there’s a blanket and pillow in the cupboard over there.”

“When do
visiting hours end?” Gretchen asked.

“Don’t
worry about it. Feel free to stay as long as you want tonight.”

“Thanks,
Maria.”

She smiled
and went on with her rounds. Her suggestion to talk to him stuck with Gretchen.
She thought about what she should say to him for a long time. Too long
probably. He was in a coma, after all. She didn’t even have a name for him, but
she didn’t want to keep calling the guy “Him” or “The Man.” The only name he
had was John Doe.
Well
, Gretchen thought,
John isn’t so bad.
He
could get stuck with worse. It would have to do for now. Still unsure of how to
start, she settled for simple.

“Hi, John,
my name is Gretchen Gesner.”

Chapter Three

Just This Once

Gretchen
thought she must have been asleep for at least an hour before Maria woke her at
three in the morning and told her to go home and rest. There had been no change
in John’s condition. Maria assured her there likely wouldn’t be for a while.
Damage that severe would take time to recover from. Feeling guilty, even still,
Gretchen had taken her advice and gone home.

It wasn’t
until she pulled up to her house and heard her neighbor’s front door burst open
that she remembered he had been waiting for her. Carl stormed across their
front yards, panic and relief fighting for dominance in his expression and body
language.

She only
managed to get her door open and put one foot on the ground before he made it
to her and yanked her into his arms. “Where have you been?” he demanded. “Did
you get any of my texts or calls? I’ve been freaking out! You were supposed to
be back by six o’clock. I thought something had happened to you. What is going
on?”

Cringing at
the fear in his voice, Gretchen felt horrible for worrying him. They had
planned to watch a basketball game together that night when she got home, Carl
grilling burgers for dinner even though it was still too chilly for barbecuing.
It hadn’t even crossed her mind to text or call to tell him she wouldn’t make.
She hadn’t looked at her phone once since getting back into her car to follow
the ambulance.

Her
relationship with Carl was complicated, but she felt awful for scaring him.
“I’m really sorry. It’s been a crazy night,” she said as she relaxed into his
embrace. It wasn’t something she would normally allow, but she was exhausted on
every level.

“What
happened?” Carl asked, more calm now that he had her in his arms and knew she
wasn’t dead or kidnapped.

That
thought made her flinch, because John wouldn’t be going home to his family, if
he had one, any time soon. Guilt she didn’t completely understand poked at her.

“It’s a
really long story, and I need to get some sleep before school tomorrow.”

“Call in
sick,” he ordered.

“I’ll get
docked points on my evaluation,” Gretchen complained.

“It doesn’t
matter. You’re about to drop. A few hours of sleep isn’t going to make you
ready to deal with a bunch of high school punks. Call in sick, or I’ll do it
for you.”

“They
aren’t punks,” Gretchen snapped, though there wasn’t much bite behind it. “I’ll
be fine. And you can’t call in sick for me.”

Carl laughed.
“I think you’re forgetting I’ve lived here all my life and have known your boss
a hell of a lot longer than you. I’ve been calling everyone, including her, to
try and figure out where you are. I’ll call her if you don’t. I mean it.”

Even though
Gretchen hated when he bossed her around and pretended to always know what was
best for her, she could barely keep her eyes open and was on the verge of
asking Carl to carry her to her house. Which he would certainly do. She sighed.
Asking anything like that of Carl would be a huge mistake, but she was forced
to admit he was right about calling in. Three hours of sleep was not going to
be enough to get her through a full day of teaching.

“Fine.”

She didn’t
have to look up at Carl to know he was gloating. Shaking her head, she tried to
pull out of his arms. He wasn’t interested in letting her go. The only
concession he gave was to turn her toward her house and go from full embrace to
an arm around her shoulders.

After
unlocking her front door, Gretchen intended to tell him goodbye and send him
packing before he could read anything more into what was happening than she
knew he already had. Carl was not a small man. So when he swept her into his
arms, there wasn’t a whole lot she could do to stop him aside from weakly
complain.

“Put me
down,” she whined.

He ignored
her while shutting and locking her front door.

“You’re not
staying,” Gretchen said. Her voice was as stern as it could possibly be at
three a.m., but had little effect on him.

“I don’t
hear from you for nine hours, when you’ve been traveling alone, and you think
I’m just going to say goodnight and go to bed?” He scoffed. “Keep dreaming,
Gretchen.”

Gentle,
despite his annoyed tone, Carl set her down on the couch and took the spot
right next to her. “Now,
what
happened, and where have you been all
night?”

There was
no chance of getting him to leave without an explanation. “At the hospital,”
Gretchen said with a sigh.

“What?” His
gaze scanned her body, looking for signs of injuries.

“I’m fine,”
she reassured him, “but something happened on the way back. Not to me, but…I
was driving and saw something in the road. I thought maybe it was an animal.
It…wasn’t.”

Carl’s
eyebrows rose. “It was a person?” When Gretchen nodded, his concern deepened.
“Dead?”

She closed
her eyes, trying not to picture John’s mangled body. “Almost.”

“Gretchen,
wow, I’m sorry,” he said. “That couldn’t have been an easy thing to see.”

“I almost
hit him,” Gretchen whispered.

Carl’s
pulled her to him, and stroked her hair. “It wouldn’t have been your fault, but
you didn’t hit him, and you called for help, right? You did everything you
could.”

His words
sounded so final, like she could walk away with a clear conscience. Shaking the
feeling of responsibility for the poor man lying alone in the hospital was
impossible. Discussing that with Carl felt…strange. Instead, she asked, “Who
won the game?”

The groan
of disappointment gave away the answer, but he said, “Not the Nuggets. They’re
down by three games now, and not looking like they’re going to come back.”

“Sorry,”
Gretchen said, mostly heartfelt in her condolence. She had never bothered to
follow sports before moving in next to Carl. Even after seven months of
watching games with him, she still didn’t really follow his favorite teams, so
much as support his addiction.

The weekend
Gretchen arrived in New Mexico with a small U-Haul trailer packed with her
entire life, Carl had seen her struggling to wheel her dresser into the house
and strode across the neglected lawn to help. Even though she’d shied away from
his help
and
friendliness, he’d unloaded the entire trailer and had
stuck around ever since.

Watching
games together started with preseason football soon after she moved in. She’d
tried to refuse the invitation. Carl was hard to resist, especially when he
never gave up asking. He seemed to understand a romantic relationship was the
last thing on her mind when starting her first teaching job and moving to an
unfamiliar town, and was simply there to keep her company when she was feeling
lonely. At first.

Carl made
no secret of the fact that he would like more, if the offer were on the table.
It wasn’t. He respected that, for the most part. Gretchen didn’t really mind
his stolen hugs and the occasional arm around her shoulders as much as she got
onto him about it. She wasn’t in a place where she could admit that to him, but
she cherished his friendship. Until she got to know some of her coworkers
better, he’d been her only friend in town, and he had been a good one.

“You could
have called me,” Carl said. “I would have driven out to help, and waited with
you at the hospital.”

“I know,”
Gretchen said quietly. “I’m sorry I didn’t. I was just so scared and worried, I
guess I shut everything else out.”

He pressed
her closer to his chest and took a deep breath. “Is the guy going to be okay?”

Gretchen
could only shrug. “Nobody’s sure. He was still unconscious when I left.”
Yawning, but too tired to attempt covering it, Gretchen’s eyes slowly began to
close. “I’ll check on him tomorrow.”

Carl was
quiet for a moment. “You will?”

She nodded
and tried to tell herself to get up and go to bed. Alone.

“Why?”

“He’s…by
himself, and hurt,” she said, her words broken up by another yawn.

“Gretchen,”
Carl said cautiously, “this may not be something you want to get involved in.
If
it’s
drug related…”

Gretchen
wanted to shake her head at the suggestion, but even though the town was fairly
small, Carl had told her stories of cartel influence and trafficking. They
lived in the northern part of New Mexico, but it was still a border state. His
warning did give her a moment’s pause, but the need to know the man she’d
rescued was at least going to survive was too strong to overcome.

“I’ll just
stop by and make sure he’s doing all right. I can’t imagine waking up alone
from something like that.”

Carl
sighed. She knew he’d continue to fight her on the subject, but it was well
after three in the morning, and Gretchen knew despite his insistence that she
call in sick to work, he wouldn’t do the same. It reminded her that she really
did need to call in, and pulled away from Carl to find her phone.

She fished
around in her purse sleepily before Carl finally took it from her hands and
extracted her phone. He handed it over and leaned his head back against the
couch as though he intended to stay there all night. Shaking her head, Gretchen
sent her message and turned to face him.

Without
opening his eyes, Carl snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her to his
chest. Her lips parted to complain, but he spoke first. “Just once, let me have
this, okay?” He settled his chin on the top of her head and exhaled slowly. “I
thought something awful had happened, and I was going crazy waiting to hear
from you. I want to be mad at you for letting me think you’d gotten into a
horrible car accident or something, but I’m so glad you’re okay I can’t work up
enough strength to be upset. I just want to hold onto for a few minutes, all
right?”

There was a
good chance it was a line she was about to cross with Carl she wasn’t ready
for, but Gretchen couldn’t bear to refuse him.
Just this once
. It had
been a long night for both of them. As she relaxed against his chest, the
tension he’d been holding since storming out of his house finally melted away.