Authors: William Hutchison
She composed herself and continued. "Burt, it wasn't a joke that I made earlier. Today is Monday and you did have an exam." She was becoming irritated. "Nov what's the last thing you remember? Think, please!"
Burt sat up in bed, but closed his eyes as he sifted through his muddled thoughts trying to recollect. He-stayed like that for about two minutes, but then opened his eyes and began to answer her. "Debbie, I remember your coming into my room. I was still in bed, right?"
"Right!" She encouraged him.
"And then you said it was Monday and I had to go take an exam and then----I guess I was a little sleepy, but I got up."
"That's right. Then what?"
"And then, I supposed I was playing along with you," he paused. She frowned. He immediately could tell it wasn't a joke.
"Okay. I got up and got dressed and left for my Chem exam."
"Yes?"
He couldn't remember what happened next
as hard as he tried. "Debbie,"he said, his voice quavering. He looked panicky. "I just can't remember.I can't. What's happening to me? Am I losing it?" He reached for her.
She took his hand. "I don't know. Maybe if you could just remember what happened in the lunchroom. Maybe then you'll be able to string the rest of the day and the weekend back together if you could just remember something."
"What happened in the lunchroom?" he asked. "I don't understand."
"You met me in the lunchroom, remember?"
"No."
"Well, you did."
"What'd I do next?"
Debbie was on the spot. She decided to answer him. He appeared strong enough to accept the truth and anything would be better than this merry go round they were currently on. She hoped her telling him might snap him out of his amnesia. She recalled reading somewhere that sometimes when people experience a great shock to their system that they temporarily lose track of the events immediately preceding the shock and that if they're reminded, they sometimes get their memory back faster. She proceeded cautiously, hoping her assessment of his condition was accurate.
"You met me at the lunchroom, okay?"
"Okay. I believe you."
"Then we sat down and talked. You didn't say an
ything about the test." “
Uh, uh."
"You didn't look too good either. You looked sick----like you were suffering from a heat stroke or (she paused)...a heart attack or something---" She stopped to gauge his reaction.
Nothing.
He didn't budge.
She continued. "After we talked for a moment, you barfed and then passed out. That's why you're here now."
"I looked like I was having a heart attack?" He looked concerned, but was still alert when he asked.
"Yes! Don't you remember anything?"
Burt strained. "I vaguely remember being in the cafeteria, but not how I got there or what happened afterwards." He looked troubled but continued to talk. "So we talked, I barfed, passed out and here I am. That's it?"
"Not entirely." Debbie still wanted to know about the video tape. Maybe going back farther would help. She had nothing to lose.
"Do you remember the tape you made in your room? Do you remember the experiment?"
Burt squeezed her hand in his and his palms became sweaty. His eyes, however, lit up.
"The experiment! That's it. The experiment!" he repeated. "Did I do it? Did the tape come out okay? What did you see?" He was excited as he spoke.
"The tape came out okay, and we can talk about what I saw later. But what do you mean, 'did I do it'?"
His eyes widened. "Did I link with the computer?"
Debbie saw he was remembering. "Yes---- she tentatively answered, "I think so."
"Did you watch all the video I made?" He was eager for an answer and unknowingly squeezed her hand almost to the point of pain.
Debbie didn't want to get into the details of the video, the scrawl of obscenities she had seen still confused and troubled her. It wasn't the right time to press for answers. She decided to be purposefully vague in answering his question. "I saw the video, but I don't understand it. What was it all about? Do you remember? All I saw was you sitting at your desk describing what you were trying to do and then the screen flashed letters and words and pictures on it."
"It did? What words?"
Debbie didn't want to answer. How could she tell him he filled the screen with obscenities and it worried her? She couldn't. She had to sidestep the issue with a lie. "It just flashed the words 'Daniel, we did it!
Burt rolled his eyes into the back of his head when Debbie pronounced his brother's name. Everything started to come into focus.
"We did it! We did it! Far out!" he exclaimed opening his eyes and then trying to get out of bed. He had to see his video. He had to see his success for himself. He had to know more.
Debbie restrained him.
He pushed back weakly, still feeling the excitement of his accomplishment, but too weak to overcome the force of Debbie's hand which she had placed firmly in the middle of his chest.
"Debbie. Don't keep me here. I've got to see the video. I've got to see it for myself. Do you know what this means? Do you?" He was frantic and didn't wait for an answer. "It means thousands of crippled kids, like Daniel will be able to finally have an outlet for their creativity. Just because they can't use their arms or hands doesn't mean they'll have to remain locked in their own thoughts. At least, not if I can teach them how I linked. It's a miracle. I thought I could do it. But I wasn't sure. Debbie, you've got to help me get out of here. There's so much more I've got to do."
Burt then slumped back into his hospital bed and grabbed the TV remote control cord that hung by his bedside. He could see disbelief in her eyes. He had to prove his point. He shut the TV off abruptly with the remote control and handed the unit to her.
"Here hold this! I can tell you don't believe me. And watch the TV screen!" He said as he pointed to the monitor hung on the wall directly in line with his bed.
Debbie took the control and turned toward the screen.
"Snap the monitor on and off again," Burt ordered.
She did, not understanding why.
"It's off, right?" he asked looking at her.
Puzzled, she answered, "yes. It's off. So?"
"So watch this." Burt said closing his eyes.
Debbie looked first at him and then at the TV screen. She could hear him beginning to breathe very deeply as she watched the blank screen. After about a minute, the TV snapped on. It startled her. She looked down at her hand to see if she had inadvertently flipped the control button. She hadn't touched it. She was dumbfounded and amazed. Her amazement grew as she continued to watch. The 'IV began to quickly flip through the channels and then as quickly as it came on, it went blank again. Debbie didn't know what to think and put the remote control unit on the bed, her eyes still focused on the screen. As soon as she moved her hand away from the control, script letters like the one's she had seen on Burt's video earlier began to form. "D-E -B -B -I -E" was the first word. She smiled as the message continued.”I-L-O-V-E-Y-O-U-I-L-O-V-Y-O-U. The monitor filled as the words 'I love you' were repeated over and over again.
Debbie stood up, not knowing what to think. She had never suspected, he felt so strongly for her. She turned to him just as the monitor went blank again and the words that meant so much to her dissolved into blackness.
Burt opened his eyes. "Did you see that?"
Debbie went to him and put her hands around his neck again and held him tight against her breast.
"I saw it." she said as he buried his head in the hollow of her neck.
She continued holding him in silence for the next few moments, bathing in the warmth of her feelings, wanting the serenity of the moment to last forever, afraid to move fearing the slightest movement or word on her part would ruin the dream. She wanted to remember this moment for the rest of her life.
Suddenly, without warning, the back of Burt's neck began to get clammy and he began to breathe rapidly and shallowly. Something was wrong. He pushed away quickly.
"Debbie---Debbie---I don't---I don't feel too good," he panted reaching back for her. "You'd better get me a doc."
He then threw up. The green bile covered his chest and made a puddle on the side of the bed before slowly sliding off the edge of the bed to the floor.
Debbie was paralyzed with fear, and the sight of the vomit caused her to involuntarily gag. The act of gagging electrified her into action and she leapt from the room.
"Help me! Help!" She screamed down the empty hall, her words echoing off the sterile walls and floors.
The night nurse on duty immediately dropped what she was doing and came running out of the nurses' station toward her.
"What's wrong?" the nurse asked trying to calm Debbie who was now hyperventilating.
"Burt Burt--she pointed, unable to speak coherently "in there!"
The nurse brushed past her and went to Burt's bedside. Debbie looked at the EKG simultaneously with the nurse. Both could see it was a straight line.
Debbie fainted.
"Ms. Andrews. Ms. Andrews? Are you feeling better now?" A different nurse than the one she got to help Burt asked her as she leaned over her bed. Debbie opened her eyes only to see she was in a hospital gown and in a hospital bed. She was confused.
"You passed out, Ms. Andrews. After you summoned the nurse on duty for Mr. Grayson, you passed out."
Suddenly what she was doing there hit Debbie hard. She jerked up to a sitting position in bed. "What happened to Burt? Is he okay?"
The nurse spoke calmly and soothingly to her. "He's a lucky boy to have someone like you. You may have saved his life for a second time today."
"What do you mean?" Debbie asked, "a second time?"
"I mean he's doing just fine now."
"He is?"
"Yes." The nurse responded.
"What happened to him?" Debbie asked, fearing she already knew.
"He went into fibrillation again and almost arrested. But because you called so quickly we were able to get a team to him in time to save him."
"How is he now?"
"He's resting comfortably."
"Why would someone his age have two heart attacks in one day? Something's wrong and I don't understand." Debbie asked not really expecting an answer.
"We were going to ask you if you had any clue as to why Mr. Grayson is having such a time. We haven't been able to come to any conclusions on our end.
Then the nurse took Debbie's hand and asked, "Do you feel up to talking to the doctor responsible for his case? He has some questions he wants you to answer regarding your friend's condition."
Debbie nodded in agreement and the nurse exited, returning shortly with Dr. Gene Splevin, the staff heart specialist.
Dr. Splevin was thirty-nine years old and had a friendly, round face. His blonde, wispy hair, what little there was of it, was neatly combed from the sides over the top to cover the shiny bald spot that started on the crown of his head and extended all the way to his smooth high forehead. He had on a pair of round, wire-rimmed glasses which had slipped down to the bridge of his pudgy nose. He was smiling broadly when he came in and approached the bedside.
"Hello, Ms. Andrews. Are you feeling better now?" Splevin moved toward her bed and reached for her hand to comfort her."I'm okay I guess." Debbie answered. "The nurse said I fainted."
"You did. But you'll be fine. We only want to keep you here for a few hours for observation. You bumped your head when you fell and we feel it would be better if you stayed the night."
Debbie reached up and felt the knot on the side of her head. It was throbbing mightily and was tender to the touch.
"You'll be fine," Splevin reiterated seeing the concern in her eyes as she felt the goose egg.
"What about Burt?"
"He'll be all right too, we think. Do you feel up to answering some questions?" Splevin asked as he moved closer to the bed.
"Okay." Debbie answered. "What do you want to know?"
Dr. Splevin pulled up a chair and sat down next to her bed and then instructed the nurse he wouldn't need her anymore, whereupon she left. He then pulled out a small notepad from his pocket and flipped it open, adjusting his glasses afterwards.
"Okay, Ms. Andrews, I need to get some more information regarding Mr. Grayson to help in our diagnosis. I want you to be honest with me. Do you understand?" His tone of voice was kind and non-threatening. He continued after Debbie nodded.
"How long have you known Mr. Grayson?"