Chapter 7
James watched Mariah sleep. Some color had returned to her face, and her breathing had returned to normal.
He had been scared when Mariah had slumped in front of him. In fact, the alarm he felt had been greater even than the time he watched Greg’s sister, Tiffany, go into labor several years ago—the last time he had been truly frightened for someone’s life. He had caught Mariah in his trembling arms and prayed to God as he drove to Trinity Hospital that she would be okay. She had been burning up with a racing pulse when they arrived at the emergency room.
Now he looked at her lying in the hospital bed. Her nose and mouth were covered by an oxygen mask. He could see puffs of breath condense inside the mask, proof that she was alive. Her red hair was loose on the white sheets around her face.
Under the light of the lamps, he noticed the light splash of freckles on her cheeks. She was beautiful, even after surviving nearly crashing to the ground. At least now, he had an idea of what might be causing them and how to prevent them from happening.
After the medical team had stabilized her condition and run lots of tests, James had pressed Dr. Vishram for an explanation. Dr. Vishram told James he had initially thought Mariah fainted or had episodes because of a life-threatening disease. After ordering her medical records, however, the team had found she was suffering from signs of amnesia.
Dr. Vishram had explained to James that Mariah’s episodes would most likely happen whenever she was having memory overload. Her brain would shut down forcefully to protect her from emotional or mental damage. James had not known that amnesia was the reason for Mariah’s episodes. She had not told him.
James had soaked up every word Dr Vishram said about triggers and safe spaces, thanking him for the information. Before the doctor left, James had charged him with the duty of finding a cure or solution for Mariah”s illness.
The doctor told James that memories sometimes got suppressed when there was trauma involved. He said that perhaps the events that had led Mariah to become an orphan had been so traumatic that her brain didn’t want to remember them. He advised that her brain might be protecting itself.
Now James was all alone in the private room overlooking the city skyline, with his thoughts as company–and they ran wild. He couldn”t shake away the feelings Mariah elicited in him, and he couldn”t ignore the fact that she did look a bit like Anastasia–albeit a grown-up version, but Anastasia, nonetheless.
She had amnesia… so the possibility that she didn’t remember him was real. Groaning, his face fell into his hands.
Stop making things up, James.
He knew it would serve no purpose to project his thoughts onto Mariah.
But she called you Jamie. It felt so natural, so familiar on her lips. People have known you for years and have never called you Jamie, but she did…
His thoughts halted when Mariah groaned softly and shifted on the bed. Her eyes fluttered open, and she moaned low in her throat like she was in pain. “Where… where am I?” she said through the oxygen mask. James helped her take it off—the doctor had told him it was alright to remove it when she woke—and supported her as she sat up.
“You”re at the hospital, Mariah,” he announced, pulling his chair to her bedside. “You fainted. At the playground. Remember?”
Her face was scrunched up as she tried to focus. Then she seemed to remember as her eyes opened wide.
“Oh, I remember,” she cried, covering her face with her palms. She shook her head from side to side as if protesting. It was endearing to watch and would have set his heart aflutter if the memory of her limp body in his arms hadn”t invaded his mind. “And you brought me here?” she looked around, her lips quivering. “I can”t afford this place.”
“You don”t have to,” he leaned back on his seat. “It’s an all-expense covered stay, for today and the subsequent checkups with Dr. Michael Vishram.”
“Subsequent?” Mariah cried, pushing the blanket off her feet, trying to get up.
“Yes, subsequent. That’s for not telling me that your headaches were triggered by certain things that caused intense memories to try to come back,” she froze and lifted her big brown eyes to him. “I know we don”t know each other well but you should have told me whenever I was about to do something, or say something, or take you somewhere that would trigger your memory.”
“But it’s my memories,” she said indignantly.
“Who cares! They have the power to cause damage to your mind,” he said gently.
“But they are my memories!” she cried. “Memories that are a part of me. Memories that made me who I am, but then I don”t have them. All because of this stupid amnesia!” She was getting upset.
James felt her words tugging at his heart. He wanted to reach for her and comfort her, but he didn”t. He needed her to confront whatever it was she was hiding from.
She continued, “For years, I have felt like a broken record, like something is always missing and I get flashes of a life I had, of a mom that smiled a lot, a dad that cooked… and I would cry that I was an orphan simply because my mind was too broken to remember I had a family. I hated it. I still hate it!” she wailed, tears streaming down her cheeks profusely.
She continued, “Then the flashes stopped altogether, and the memories that were my comfort all those years at the orphanage were no more. And now, they”ve returned, and I have a shot at remembering who I was. Damage or no damage, I”m going to take the shot.”
She went on, “You don’t know what it is like to live with amnesia. You have no idea what it is like. So don’t judge me when you have no real idea of what my situation is like.” she sniffed and pushed herself off the bed.
James rose to his feet as she swayed, but she caught herself. “If that playground caused so much memory overload that I fainted, it was important to me, and I”m going back there.”
James scoffed and moved to block the exit. “Like I”m going to let you do that,” he crossed his arms, waiting for her to try to push him out of the way. She was supposed to be resting. It was not the time for to go trampling around the playground, trying to remember things.
“You can”t tell me what to do. I can make my own decision.”
“Not in this frame of mind, you can”t.”
“I can and I will,” she stomped over to him and pushed. He didn”t budge. She tried again and again. When she was out of gas, she stepped back and glared at him in silence. He found it cute and chuckled.
“Doctor’s orders were for you to rest and stay away from triggers. But if you insist–”
“I insist,” she muttered.
“Then I can’t force you to rest. I’ll only let you go if I go with you, though. Deal?” He uncrossed his arms and arched a brow. If she didn’t give in, he thought, he might end up driving her home and locking her inside the house for the weekend to keep her safe. Even if she screamed like a banshee, he wouldn”t let her out. He was prepared to sleep on her doorstep if he had to.
He felt responsible for her ending up in the hospital, and guilt gnawed at him when he thought of what could have happened.
“No deal,” she snapped.
“Fine. Then we stay here,” he shrugged but made no effort to move out of the way.
She paced the room, and he watched her anxiously. He was becoming worried that pacing would only work her up further. As he continued watching, she stopped to glare at him now and then. Finally, with a defeated sigh, she said, “Fine. You can come with me.”
James had a smug, victorious smile on his face when they left the hospital a half hour later, and he maintained his sense of satisfaction as they drove back to Ashton McKellen. This time, they drove through the entrance gates and parked. Then they made a short walk across the school property, under the watchful eye of the groundskeeper. They headed for the playground.
She swayed as they stepped into the large playhouse. She stopped by every room, asking him questions about it. She squeezed her eyes shut whenever a wave of dizziness hit, but she didn”t stop asking questions. He answered her to the best of his memory.
However, when she asked him if he knew anyone who had attended Ashon McKellen who looked like her, or if she reminded him of anyone, he turned away from her. He lied, saying that he wasn”t sure.
She started to look more and more like Anastasia to him, but he didn”t want to permit himself to dream that they were the same person. It would only cause both of them pain if his guess was wrong. But he did promise Mariah he would find out–that part wasn”t a lie and was more for himself than for her.
Once they had gone through the playhouse and were leaving, it was clear that standing by the door was harder for her. She trembled visibly, and her breaths came in soft gasps. With a soft cry, she slid to the floor, and James squatted by her side.
All through their walk around the playhouse, he had told himself that it was Mariah’s dragon to slay and her past to resolve. But her pain struck something buried deep inside of him. Just as Mariah hadn”t let go of the possibility of her memory coming back, he hadn”t let go of the possibility that Anastasia was still out there.
“Was there ever a piano in here?” Mariah asked in a small voice, breaking him from his train of thought.
“Yes,” he answered, “for a little while when Elaine–my stepmother–sat as the chairman of the PTA committee. Stacie and I would spend our lunch breaks by the piano,” James recounted, his memory still fresh in his mind’s eye.
He continued, “I would tap away on the keys, but I had not been very good back then. I had just started piano lessons–and she would sing or hum along. She had the voice of an angel. But of course, everything she did was angelic to me,” he sighed, bending close to place his hands on Mariah’s shoulders. He tilted her gently towards him so she could lean on his thighs.
He explained further, “She was my first real friend here. People flocked around me because I was a Sorenson–beautiful and powerful, like an eagle. Anastasia didn”t know what it meant to be a Sorenson. She thought it was only a name.” his eyes got a faraway look in them.
Then he went on, “She got acquainted with it soon enough, but it didn”t stop her from seeing me as just a boy. To Anastasia, I was your everyday neighborhood boy… and that”s who I wished to be seen as. But we can”t have all our wishes come true,” he sighed.
Mariah sighed before saying, “You have… beautiful memories, rich and powerful,” she whispered. He didn”t need to look at her to know she was envious of him. Immediately, he felt guilty for talking about his past.
She continued. “I wanted one day to get mine back. Sometimes I feel broken, lost,” she said wistfully.
James sat down beside her. “Shh,” he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to him, and he was reminded of how fragile she was. He wanted to be her Superman. “You”re not broken. Your memories will return in due time–”
“No, they won”t,” she shook her head, shivering. “They are never coming back, so I can’t ever find my family.”
“But the memories are returning now,” he objected. “Can you feel it? Can you feel like something new and exciting is coming? Can”t you feel that our meeting wasn”t an accident? Perhaps I”ll help you regain your memories, seeing that my very life is a trigger.”
As he spoke, Mariah”s mood lightened. She trembled slightly as a breeze blew. So, he pulled her onto his lap and wrapped her in his embrace, her head buried in his chest. “Soon, you”ll remember everything. You’ll remember who you are, and your family, and you will find out what happened to them. I just feel it,” he said, then spoke no more.
Through a large window on the west side of the playhouse hallway, he watched the sunset. The sky was an artist”s paintbrush of lavender, pink, and gold, interspersed with puffy clouds of white. Down and down the sun went. He held Mariah tightly. It didn’t make any sense, but he felt afraid she might break. Afraid her lovely, fragile soul would fade away.
He felt a roaring need to protect the woman in his arms. When the last glimmer of sunlight left the horizon and the midnight blue sky twinkled with colorful stars, he pressed his cheek to her red hair. She shivered again, and he wondered if she was cold. “C’mon,” he whispered. “Let’s get you home.”