Page 35 of Mistaken Intention

Hunter stares at him, lost, uncertain what to do. I step a little closer, getting his attention.

“Why don’t you follow your wife down to Newport?”

He shakes his head. “I can’t do that. No matter how much I hate being away from her, I need to be here, with Drew.” The doctor opens his mouth, but Hunter holds up his hand, silencing him. He’s very commanding and we both look up at him. “You don’t need to worry. I’m not suggesting I’m gonna stay here, pacing the hall. I’ll make sure all of Drew’s equipment has been delivered to his studio.”

“What equipment would this be?” Doctor Sweeney asks.

“My brother’s a photographer. He’d just come back from an assignment in Rome. I don’t know exactly what he’d have taken with him, but there would have been a few bags and cases. He’s very particular about his cameras. He’d want me to make sure they’re all okay.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” I say, nodding my head. “It sounds like a good idea.” It’ll give him something to do.

“I’ll go back to my apartment afterwards.” He looks me in the eye, holding my attention. “Promise you’ll call me if anything happens?”

“I promise. I’ll call you personally.”

“Thank you… for everything.”

I nod my head, and with a glance at the doctor, he leaves.

“Come on, Nurse.” Doctor Sweeney sounds impatient and I turn, following him to Drew’s room. He’s about to open the door when he stops, turning to me, his face serious. “Don’t forget, you can’t prompt him. We don’t know how severe his memory loss is at this stage, but we won’t be helping him regain it if we tell him all about himself. He has to rediscover his past in his own time.”

I want to scream at him that I know all of this already. I’m not an idiot. But I say nothing and follow him inside the room.

***

Drew

This room is much nicer than the other one. It has drapes across the window. They’re blue with white stripes. The walls are a brighter blue, and there are abstract pictures on the wall opposite the bed… two of them. I’m not sure what they’re supposed to be of, but they’re certainly colorful.

It’s also quieter here. There are no machines beeping, and I can’t hear a single voice. I don’t know where I am exactly, but I’m guessing this isn’t the Emergency Room. I was there last night, and I remember a conversation about being transferred.Most of what happened is a blur of hazy thoughts and fractured conversations. The only thing I can remember with any certainty is the woman in the purple top, who made the blur seem less scary.

She came back to see me, although she didn’t bring the baby with her. She brought a different doctor… an older guy, who stood beside my bed looking down at me and frowning.

“There was a man here… with a woman,” I said, sounding as vague as I felt. “Where are they?”

“Don’t worry about them,” the doctor said.

I remembered someone else telling me not to worry, although I couldn’t remember who, or when… or what it was I wasn’t supposed to worry about.

“What happened to me?”

“You’re in the hospital and we’re going to look after you.”

“That’s not an answer. Why am I in the hospital?”

“You’re having a few problems with your memory.”

“No shit.”

The woman in the purple top was standing at the end of my bed and I noticed her put her hand over her mouth, trying not to laugh.

“Can you tell me why I’m here?” I asked, keeping my eyes fixed on her.

She lowered her hand. “You were in an accident. You hit your head, and you were unconscious for a while.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” The doctor glared at her, but we both ignored him. “There’s nothing to be concerned about.”

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