Page 17 of Forgetting You, Forgetting Me

“Would it hurt you to shave, Saxon? And get a haircut,” Kellie says, tsking while attempting to comb a hand through his hair. He dodges her attempts to groom him. “I won’t even touch on the subject of your clothes. Or tattoos.”

Looking at his ripped blue jeans, motorcycle boots, and dark gray t-shirt, I think he looks fine. Sam was a little more conservative, nothing ripped and mostly button down shirts rather than t-shirts, but Kellie can’t expect Saxon to be his doppelganger.

“How long will you be staying, son?” Greg asks, walking over to Sam’s bed.

The dreaded question has me wishing for another bear claw.

“I’m not sure. I’ll probably split tomorrow.”

Tomorrow? I thought he said a couple of days.

I can’t hide my annoyance as I huff loudly while clenching my jaw to stop my tirade.

Dr. Kepler walks in, not bothering to remind us about the two visitors at a time policy. He reads over Samuel’s charts, the same, stone-faced expression as he jots something down while looking at the endless machines. However, I notice something different when he peers over at a machine longer than he usually does.

When he slips on his glasses and moves closer, I feel my heart beginning a steady climb. “What is it, Doctor?” I ask, following him as he steps closer and closer.

His response is, “Interesting.”

“What’s interesting?” Greg questions, the room falling silent as we all watch with bated breaths.

“How long has this line been this way?” Dr. Kepler asks, pointing to a yellow squiggly line.

I shrug, desperately trying to decode what that line means. We all look at one another, hoping someone has the answers Dr. Kepler seeks. However, when no one speaks, my hope gets trampled on, that is, until Saxon speaks up.

“It changed this morning,” he says confidently. “When I was here yesterday, it was close to a flat line, fluttering occasionally. But this morning, I noticed it spiking more frequently.”

I’m too caught up in the moment to reprimand him for not mentioning it to me earlier. “What does that mean?” I’m seconds away from dropping to my knees and begging him for good news.

He reaches for the call button. “I need you all to wait outside.”

“What’s going on?” Greg demands, standing his ground.

“Mr. Stone, I need you to wait outside for a moment,” Dr. Kepler repeats. “We’re going to run some tests.”

“What tests?” Kellie asks, her hand wavering in front of her ruby lips.

He senses we’re not going anywhere until he tells us what’s going on. “It’s too early to make any assumptions, but from what I can see, Samuel has increased brain activity. Like I said, we need to run some tests before I can determine what’s going on.”

A group of doctors and nurses storm inside, pushing us out of the way. I want to stay, watch every single thing they’re doing, but I don’t. Saxon is the first to leave, his heavy boots pounding on the floor. Piper follows soon after.

Greg is consoling a grief-stricken Kellie, while I stand by the foot of Samuel’s bed, willing him to wake up and come back to me. Finally we leave, Kellie collapsing into a chair outside Sam’s room, Greg hugging her tightly. I don’t know where to go, but I know I can’t be in here. I can’t listen to Kellie’s cries, nor can I stand being on the outside as the doctors and nurses talk in a language I don’t understand.

With a determined swiftness, I run down the hallway, not looking back, only forward as I shoulder open the door and soar down the staircase. My sneakers pound on the cement as I take two steps at a time. My mind buzzes and whirls the quicker I descend. By the third floor, I’m breathless and my legs ache. But I keep running, desperate to get outside, as that ache can’t compare to the throbbing within my chest.

Once I kick open the door, I stop and bend forward to catch my breath, placing my hands onto my trembling thighs. The lack of oxygen to my brain is making me dizzy and I suddenly feel like I want to be sick. Rushing over to a trash can, I fist my hair to one side and attempt to purge out my sickness, but all I do is gag.

Please don’t let this be a false sign. I couldn’t take it if it were.

I vaguely feel a hand rubbing my back, telling me it’s okay, but I can’t concentrate on anything other than what Saxon said. He said the line moved yesterday and today. It hasn’t moved any other day before, but it moves the day Saxon arrives. That’s got to mean something. That’s got to be a sign.

Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I stand upright, wavering on my feet, feeling nauseous and lightheaded. Piper steadies me, but I shrug out of her hold when I see Saxon leaning against the brick wall.

“It’s you,” I state, wielding my finger at him like a crazy person. He stands tall, not backing down from what he knows is about to turn ugly. “Samuel is responding toyou, Saxon. Don’t you see, the day you arrive, he responds. Not on any day prior, just on the day you walked through his door.”

“You don’t know that. The doctor hasn’t even confirmed if that’s true yet,” he denies, shaking his stubborn head, but his firm jaw reveals he thinks it, too.

“Either way, you can’t go. Not now. Please, you have to stay.” I charge over to him, ready to beg. His resolve reveals he won’t budge, but neither will I. “Please, just stay a week. Or two. Don’t give up on him, not yet.”

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