5. Bennett
FIVE
BENNETT
An intense pounding in my skull woke me up before my alarm this morning. It’s not a daily occurrence, but it happens enough to be a nuisance. Thankfully, by the time I went out for our walk, the meds had started to kick in. I’m not sure if the events of this morning brought on this second bout, but it’s unusual for me to need to take something more than once in a single day. I pull out my phone to make a note in my app about it. If it happens again, I’ll bring it up at my next appointment. When I open the cupboard, my prescriptions are there, lined up neatly, a reminder of how orderly my life tends to be.
When the neurologist told me I had to stop playing football unless I wanted to donate my brain at a young age for chronic traumatic encephalopathy research, I hadn’t taken her seriously. She’d given me a stern look. “Bennett, you cannot afford one more concussion. And this early in your career, I don’t see how you could avoid one more.” I was twenty-one and experiencing my first professional training camp. I was about to make my grandfather’s dreams come true, which meant he’d get off my ass. I’d heard of the condition, of course; every single player knew about it. Hell, most of us had flocked to see that Will Smith movie about it and left the theatre thinking, “Well, that will never be me.” And yet there I was in my physical prime, being told to stop doing an activity I enjoyed because of something I might develop. She had been very blunt that this was something that could impact every single aspect of my life, and not in a positive way. If I thought the headaches were bad now, just wait and see what else could happen.
I wasn’t a dumb jock. I was pre-med with dreams of becoming a surgeon one day. I figured I’d find a way to balance med school and football, and after a few years of playing and making my grandfather happy, I’d retire from football and focus on my own dream. When I’d told him about quitting, he’d called me a coward. He’d called my generation soft. “Where would we be if the boys had avoided fighting the Germans because of a damn headache?” he’d ranted. The fear of disappointing the man who raised me, who had given me absolutely every opportunity to succeed in life, outweighed sense, so I continued. About a month later, during a drill I shouldn’t have had an issue with, I had a fairly dramatic lightbulb moment, and that was it. I walked off the field.
I changed my med school status from part-time to full-time and threw myself into my studies. In doing so, I also ensured my grandfather cut all ties with me. Thankfully, my nan supported my decision, and since it was her family fortune we all lived off of, I was able to afford school and an apartment far from the disapproving rants of the old man. I recognized that my worst-case scenario was beyond a lot of people’s best case, so I worked to make the most of it.
My first year was hell. The workload was intense, and my brain often felt sluggish. The headaches had increased, and I found myself down more than I was up. With Nan’s blessing, I decided to take a leave from school to get my head on straight. “Med school will always be there, Benny,” she told me.
My vision starts to clear, and I realize I’ve been standing in front of an open cupboard lost in thought. Eyes damp, head pounding even more, I go through the motions that have become more frequent again. Twist the top, pop a pill, drink some water, and repeat. I lean back against the counter, allowing myself to drink the rest of the water slowly, and I think about how the morning has gone so far.
The property my home sits on is huge, and the trails around it, while public, are rarely used. There are far better areas to hike around here, and people tend to stick to ones that offer larger parking lots and public washrooms at the trailhead. My trails are less manicured, with a thick bed of ferns and pine needles, often camouflaging roots, rocks, and rodent holes. After an intense rainfall like we had last night, it’s no wonder Marley injured herself.
When I heard the dogs lose their minds, I expected to find a wild animal. I certainly wasn’t expecting to see a woman who literally took my breath away. She was laughing, her dark brown hair pulled back in a messy bun. When I finally got the dogs to back off, she looked up at me, and I saw a flash of fear cross her face. I know I’m intimidating in a regular situation, but I would imagine that I’m even more so in the eyes of someone lost and injured. But just as quickly as she looked afraid, she’d asked if I’d called a dog Yogurt. I don’t even remember what I said because I was trying to ignore the way chills broke out across my skin when she spoke. In my thirty-two years, I’ve never had that kind of reaction to a voice. Although maybe it was all of her I had reacted to, but her voice was just the cherry on top. It was probably a good thing I liked the sound of her voice because she talked nonstop until we got back to my place. Time will tell if she naturally talks that much, or if it had just been nervous chatter.
I’d done my best to make her feel safe, always making sure to ask before I touched her. My grandfather had tried to drill that into me. Not because he was a chivalrous gentleman, but because he was a rich old bastard who assumed every woman would try and sue me for assault or be in line to bed me, get pregnant, and secure my inheritance. I remember the first time he’d said “bed you” to me before I left for my first university football training camp. It was the most old-timey thing I’d ever heard, and I burst out laughing. He’d threatened to disown me for that. If I had a nickel for every time he’d threatened that, I’d have had a small fortune myself. My nan had been the one to ensure I always made sure whoever I was with was comfortable purely from a place of being a decent person. I’d love to know what she’d think of the situation I found myself in currently. She’d probably laugh and say something like, “Benny, it’s not every day you find a beautiful woman with a great laugh in the woods.” She’d be over the moon about how my day was going, aside from the headaches.
I fill Marley’s glass and consider adding ice. I decide to add ice to my own and then let her pick, but then I feel weird about offering her a glass I’d had my lips on, so I dump the water into a clean one. Then I go in search of an old tensor bandage I know is somewhere in one of the cupboards above the fridge. I can feel the buzz from earlier start to return at the thought of touching her again as I apply the wrap. I roll my eyes at myself as I head back to the living room. Marley has managed to undo me in ways I have never been prepared for, and I don’t know if I should run or embrace it.
When I see her staring out the window, looking pensive, I decide to embrace the feeling. No matter what happens, it’s a change, and I’ve been thinking I’ve been due for one of those. I just didn’t see it coming in the form of a woman with big brown eyes and a smile that makes everything else fade into the background.