The Life I Left Behind, Page 2

  Chapter 1

  “Andrea.”

  Not the same voice but familiar just the same.

  “Andrea.”

  That’s when I remember my name.

  Until then I was just a cloud with no name. Only a dream.

  “Andrea. Wake up.”

  Where am I?

  I open my eyes.

  People are crowded around me. People I don’t know; all looking at me in amazement like I’ve done something astounding. I’m on center stage. I wonder if this is how a baby feels being born.

  A good looking doctor sits right in front of me. Blonde hair, blue eyes, looks to be in his mid-thirties. I am drawn to his eyes. They are the weirdest kind of blue – almost violet. I’ve seen eyes like those once before…where have I seen them? I know him, but I can’t remember from where… Oh, I had it just a moment ago! I crumple my face and try to remember but everything is a fog. I feel as if I open my mouth I can speak his name, but nothing comes. The doctor with the blue eyes calls my name again and I try to refocus. This time I let my gaze drift over his shoulders to the others in the room. Over his left shoulder I see two nurses- a blonde and a redhead and peering anxiously over his right shoulder is another, older doctor with a beard.

  “Andrea.” The doctor with the weird blue eyes says and I look up at him. I like the way he says my name; the European way, not the American way. It sounds like ‘Ondrea’.

  “Can you speak to us, honey?”

  My mouth is dry and my throat is on fire. I feel like I’ve swallowed a porcupine.

  I manage to mumble something and they all seem to get very excited though I can’t really understand why. Don’t they know I’ve only been sleeping?

  “Andrea. Do you know where you are?” The handsome young doctor asks.

  I’m not Einstein, but I’m guessing a hospital Doc. I think to myself. Might have said it too, but it hurts too much. “Disney Land.” I say finally.

  My audience’s eyes grow wide and I realize that they think I’m serious. I can almost read their thoughts.

  They think I have brain damage or something.

  “Hah…” I groan. “Just kidding Doc.” I say and just to prove I have some sense I tell them I’m in the hospital.

  They act like I’ve just told them the winning lottery numbers and I wonder what’s the big deal. Anyone with half a brain could tell this was a hospital.

  “Disney Land.” The older bearded doctor chuckles and pats my hand. “What a fine joke.”

  Like he knew I was joking. I saw that look on his face. It would have curdled milk.

  The handsome one in front hasn’t taken his eyes off me. It’s unnerving and I’d try to squirm away if it didn’t hurt to move. He smiles triumphantly at me and I wonder what the big deal is. I was only asleep. “Not Disneyland, but you can go there as soon as you leave.” He chuckles and pats my hand. “There’s that sense of humor I love!”

  Who in the heck is this? I wonder to myself. I know him but then again I don’t. It’s like we met a lifetime ago. I start to drift off but he brings me back with a question.

  “Do you know what happened?” He asks and this time I don’t have a cute answer. My face crumples up as I try to remember.

  “Do you remember anything?”

  “No.” I croak. I sound like a bullfrog. Real attractive.

  “It’s okay, honey.” The doctor says. “Don’t worry. You’re safe and I’m here. That’s all you need to know.”

  This guy has the best bedside manner I’ve ever heard of calling me honey and telling me he’s here, not to worry- where did he come from? I look back into those strange blue eyes and think that he needs a raise.

  I’m going to feel like an idiot I think to myself. I know but I ask anyway. I’ve seen him before. I should know him but the memory flirts on the edge of my consciousness, just far enough that I cannot reach it. I can feel it there but I can’t make myself remember. I know this man.

  “Who-” I croak. “Are you?”

  They look at each other like I’ve just asked them what planet I’m on. The redhead and the blonde exchange nervous glances and the good looking doctor turns a little pale.

  “Andrea.” Dr. Blue eyes says. “Honey…I’m your husband.”

  Now it’s his turn to joke. “Hahahaha…” I manage until I notice that the stricken faces around me tell me it’s the truth.

  My husband? No. He can’t be my husband. I’d know my husband right?

  The room spins and my eyes roll back in my head. I’m out. I fight to regain composure but I’m down for the count.

  I wake up later. I don’t know what time it is or how long I’ve been asleep.

  Dr. Blue eyes is here, holding my hand. I resist the urge to take it away from him because it’s not normal for a doctor to act this way with his patient. It’s a little lifetime movie of the week if you ask me…

  “Andrea.” He says when he sees me looking at him and he gives me a shy smile.

  “What’s up Doc?” I say. He looks at me like I’ve lost my mind but then he recovers.

  “Ah yes. I remember. Bugs Bunny.”

  Where did he come from? The moon? Come to think of it, he does have a slight accent. Maybe they don’t have Bugs Bunny where he’s from.

  I look at him and try to think of something to say. When I can’t he takes my hand.

  “Hi, honey.”

  There he goes again calling me honey and holding my hand. I start to pull my hand away from him but then I remember. Oh, yeah. He’s supposed to be my husband.

  I don’t know how to explain it. He doesn’t feel right. I close my eyes and try to imagine my husband. Images come to my mind but not complete images. Impressions and feelings come to me more than pictures in my mind. I can feel him… my husband, but I can’t see him.

  I close my eyes for a minute and try to bring into focus all the scattered feelings and fleeting images in my brain but it is like trying to arrange a jigsaw puzzle when you don’t have the box to look at. I feel myself reaching up to wrap my arms around strong muscular shoulders; my fingers entwined what I imagine to be dark hair. I feel rough fingers on my face and the taste of tender, knowing kisses. I seem to remember the feeling of being enveloped in a tight embrace, listening to a steady beating heart and the warmth of another body wrapped around mine like so many blankets.

  Yes, that is my husband! The feeling is warm and soft and familiar; the feeling of home. The thing is, when I look at this stranger in front of me I feel none of those things.

  This is some kind of joke.

  I’ve never seen him before in my life.

  No… I have… where had I seen him?

  “It’s me.” He says nervously. “Your husband.”

  What am I supposed to say to that?

  “Glad to meet you.” I tell him. It was the best I could do given the present circumstances.

  He laughs. The skin around his eyes crinkles when he does.

  “You’re confused.” I say pitifully. “I think you have the wrong person. I can’t be… your wife.”

  He laughs again but his face is sad.

  “But you are.” The words make him sound like a lost little boy.

  “I don’t even know your name. I’ve never seen you before.”

  That’s when he starts crying. A little, not miserably like the guy in the next cubicle, but his eyes get misty and he wipes the tears away with the back of his hand before I can really see them.

  “I—.” He starts and doesn’t finish. He looks away and swallows. “My name is Doyle.”

  “Doyle.” I repeat. The name sounds unfamiliar in my mouth. “Doyle.” I say again but it doesn’t ring a bell. I swallow hard. “Why don’t I remember you?”

  “You have amnesia.” He tells me. “Do you know what that means?”

  Amnesia? Did I wa
ke up in a soap opera? Yes, that’s it. I’m an actress in a soap opera or I’m asleep in front of the television and I can hear one. None of this can be real. Things like this don’t happen to normal people.

  “Amnesia.” I repeat when there’s no commercial break. My brow crinkles and I squeeze my eyes shut and try to think. How did I get amnesia? I can remember the accident… and then… nothing else. This is ridiculous. I’m going nuts. “What?” I ask but am unable to even verbalize the questions that buzz in my head like a swarm of angry bees.

  He shifts in his seat and leans in. “Amnesia. You suffered an injury to your head.” He starts into doctor mode but I stop him with a wave of my taped up hand. It pulls at the IV and I wince.

  I’m irritated by all of this. I know what amnesia is and I tell him so! He looks impressed or shocked; I’m not quite sure which.

  I know. I return his nod of disbelief; I can’t believe it either.

  “Do you know how you got amnesia?” He asks. “Do you remember anything about the accident?”

  The mountain…the car…the dark…falling…water. Yeah, I have a vague recollection of what happened.

  “I—was in an automobile accident.” I say and he looks dubious but waits for me to finish.

  “I think… I went off the mountain… into the water.” I guess and from the horrified look on Dr. Blue Eye’s face I was either dead right or terribly wrong. I couldn’t tell which.

  He leans in to me and shakes his head. The color drains from his face. He’s already pale; now he looks like a ghost.

  “Andrea. You were hit by a car.” He points out the window. “Crossing the street.”

  I shake my head and it hurts. “No! I remember the water.” I tell him I remember what it felt like… the burning in my lungs. I was there. I remember water; I am quite sure of it.

  He leans closer and puts his hand over my lips.

  “Andrea. Not too loud.” He looks around like he’s trying to keep something secret. “Listen honey, you were crossing the street right here. You were leaving with Marilyn and Jackie to get some lunch. Some guy ran the red light and hit you. You were thrown thirty feet into another car.”

  “No.” I tell him. “I remember water! I remember the mountain!”

  “Honey, we’re half a mile from the river! You see water every day! Of course you remember water; but you weren’t in it!

  But I do remember water! I remember more than seeing it! I remember what it felt like! How it was so cold it squeezed my lungs and it hurt to breathe. I remember the mountain, the headlights behind me… How it felt to fall. The sound that the water made as it seeped into the car. I remember being pulled out… the big hands pulling me upward…I try to convince him but he just shakes his head like I’m a silly little girl.

  It infuriates me and I raise my voice.

  “I remember!” I tell him and he puts his fingers over my lips and I push his hand away with my free arm. My eyes flash in anger. How dare he try to silence me like that? If I wasn’t all hooked up I’d get out of this bed and show him a thing or two. I struggle to sit up, but his hands hold me down. He is either unbelievably strong or I am as weak as a kitten; but I fight him nonetheless.

  “Listen to me!” His fingers bite into my shoulders and he shakes me a little as he raises his voice and I jump. There is something in his expression that scares me a little. Is it the way his face twists with barely concealed anger or the fact that his eyes seem to take on a fire of their own? He breathes out and regains his composure. His voice is calm now and he forces me to look into his eyes. “We live on Lookout and have to drive to this hospital every day, dearest. You could drive up and down that mountain it in your sleep. You never fell. You’ve dreamed it.”

  I am stung by his outburst, not really sure what I should do or say now.

  “Darling.” He purrs as his eyes look up at the next cubicle like he can see through it. “Beloved, listen. The woman in the next cube was on the mountain. She’s the one that fell in the water. You—you must have heard everything and dreamed it. You were brought in around the same time… Be quiet please. Her family is… distraught… She’s – dying.”

  Then it dawns on me.

  The man I’ve heard crying!

  Can you hear in a coma? I wonder to myself. Yes, I think so. I look up at him and my eyes well up with tears of my own. The woman next to me may lose her life and the only memories I that I have left… the one thing I’ve been clinging to… those fractured remnants of a life I thought I had… aren’t mine at all…

  They belong to her!

  I’m angry and sad and I feel betrayed by my own mind. I can’t remember my parents, my childhood, my wedding. This man in front of me who claims to be my husband is a stranger. I want to go home and crawl into bed and pull the covers over my head and make this whole crazy dream go away, but I don’t know where my house is.

  That’s when I lose it. For the first time since the accident- I cry.

  Doyle leans over me and puts his head on my shoulder. I think if he were able he would have crawled in the bed with me. He comforts me as best he can and cries with me.

  When there are no tears left he looks at me. His violet blue eyes draw me in and I wonder how I could have forgotten them.

  “We will work it out honey. I’m… just glad you’re back to me.” He offers me a small, shy smile. “Can I kiss you?” He asks sheepishly, almost like a nervous teenager and I’m not sure if I should be comforted or scandalized by it.

  I don’t know what to tell him. He’s a stranger to me but at the same time, he’s my husband.

  I nod. On television they say doing normal things might help bring one’s memory back. I’m willing to give it a try but I wonder if I will know what to do. I close my eyes and hope that this is the kiss that brings all my memories back to life!

  It works that way in fairy tales.

  He leans in, and his lips touch mine and I feel the fireworks instantly.

  I’ve done this before! I know I have, even if I don’t remember- my body seems to and responds to his kiss.

  But that’s all. No sudden surge of memories, no life flashing before my eyes. I sigh - a little disappointed that my memory hasn’t magically returned but my body tingles and my body seems to remember his touch. The kiss deepens, and for an instant I am swept up in a torrent of longing and desire and I know I could lose myself… or what’s left of myself in this man.

  Instead of comforting me, it scares me. My hair seems to stand up and it feels like cold water has just been poured over my body. I pull in a shaky breath as he moves away from me.

  He smiles almost triumphantly at me, like he has won some battle that I didn’t even know we were having. The look is both sinister and sensual and it unnerves me for the most part. If you give in to him, you will lose yourself. Something in the far corner of my mind warns me. My heart pounds in my ears and I take an unsteady breath.

  “I have rounds.” He informs me, very much the doctor again. “I’ll be back soon.” He promises as he picks up a chart. “You will rest now.”

  It was not a request and I should be offended but I find I am suddenly too tired to fight. I feel like I’m too tired to even speak. I nod and lean my head back. I cut my eyes to the window and I notice that is night again. I never wake in the daylight. I want to open my mouth and ask why it’s never daylight but he seems to sense I have questions and he moves toward me quickly.

  “You will rest now.” He says again as he leans over me to place a kiss on my forehead. I feel a strange tingly sensation in my body, almost like an electric shock. I look up at him in surprise but suddenly feel like all the energy has been drained. I never get a chance to say anything else.