“Sorry, but are we dating or something?”

 “Excuse me?”

“I mean like who will wait for a stranger to wake for two consecutive nights. And, there is no way you’re my sister.”

“Stop this nonsense Ralph,” she walked closer to my hospital bed.

“Ah no denial. I guess we did. Seriously though, who are you?”

“I swear Ralph. One more time you play games with me,” her fingers ran through my beard.

“A wedding ring? Damn! I guess you’re another Helen of Troy.” 

She flung her hand in the air.

            Alright. Let’s stop right there. Just before her smooth hand left a red mark on my scruffy cheek. To be honest, always preferred a lipstick mark more. Here I am laying down on a hospital bed with my memory shattered into pieces. Blind in the left eye and a scar on my forehead. Doctors said I drove too fast last night, lucky enough to survive. They also said that I won’t be able to remember figures and people. Hopefully temporarily. Except of course Freud and Wordsworth whom I’ve grown so fond of in years.

            Back to the present. Doctors and nurses scrambled into the room pulling the woman away from me. Her cry was sincere yet hysterical. I stared at her blankly, puzzled by the stirring ruckus. “How? How isn’t he remembering me?” her voice repeated endlessly through the small hospital room. It took an entire five minutes for her to calm down and be brought outside. Everyone except a man old enough to be my father in white robe staid. 

He stood beside me and coughed, “Do you remember her?”

“No. Not at all. Am I supposed to?”

“Nope. No pressure here kid.”

“She cute though. That’s for sure.” 

“Her name is Helen. Helen Harris.”

“That isn’t her maiden name.” 

“Exactly. She is married,” he threw his glance outside, “To whom I do not know.”

“No worries doc. Isn’t really interested in knowing much of her either.” 

“Do you remember who you are Sir?”

“Ralph. A psychologist in Central Hospital with a private practice in an office downtown.” 

“How about your family? Surname? Father? Siblings?”

“Too bad doc. I can’t remember. There are times when I get all excited knowing I finally remember some names which only end up to be renown psychologist.”

“To be exact, you still remember all your psychological studies?”

“With no doubt doc. Good to go for practice. Give me the word.” 

“I’m worried it is not that easy kid. But that’s it for now.” 

“What? Come on? Did I fail the test? Don’t leave me here alone!” I mocked him.

He grinned and exited the room.

            It is interesting how the nurses have an hour interval between shifts. In short, no nurses roamed the hallway for an hour or so.  A feeling of boredom and agitation prompted me to search for an evening air. I walked towards the tennis bag laid across me.  Opening the zipper revealed an ocean blue polo and a leather jacket with dark jeans under it. I guess that will do. Have always wanted to give the smart casual style a shot. 

            I hopped into a passing cab, “Where to?” “Gustavo’s. Downton.” A funny thing with Gustavo’s Bar is it is not at all owned by a Mexican. A guy named Alan whose childhood has been filled with excessive viewing of Al Pacino’s and De Niro’s movies have grown a deep interest towards Italians, insisting that others call him Al instead of Alan. The irony is, the name Gustavo is not much of an Italian, he got that part wrong. Except if he has Del Toro’s and Pacino’s blood mixed up in his veins. Overall, he is a pretty decent guy based on the leather journal I kept.

            “Ralph! Here! Come take a seat!” a plump man with unbuttoned floral shirt roared as I walked in the door. At least he looked Italian. “How you doing bro?” he asked with a warming smile carved onto his face. I nodded and replied his smile. “Never been better. A Manhattan as usual.” He took a glance towards the ceiling reminiscing the past. Not long after his hands were nimbly pouring vermouth and whiskey. 

The conversation we had next went one way. Him asking questions and me answering with a nod followed by a simple yes or no. Frankly, I have no idea whom he was to me despite all his chatter on our school days and my occasional runaways from home. His words started to die down when he reached the part about my engagement party. Spotlight shone on him as he bragged his speaking skills. He said she was lucky to have me and I was lucky to find someone like her before contracting syphilis and such.

            “You married an amazing woman. Smart and gorgeous. Let me remember her name, I think it’s,” the phone rang and he ran to answer it. I have deducted that an hour has gone by and half of the hospital was panicking knowing one of its patient has gone MIA. And I got no doubt that in the other end of the phone stood Helen whom in five minutes max will enter the bar. Al returned to me with a grim look on his face. He patted my shoulder and soothing words escaped his lips, “Hey I just heard about what happened. The car accident. So sorry to hear bro. Look, if you need anything the door is always open for you.”

            Helen entered in a red velvet dress. Only now I observed that she has an astonishingly beautiful auburn hair and gorgeous emerald green eyes.  “Whiskey on the rocks please, Al,” I whispered. She walked closer and stood by me. She slung her purse over her arm and slapped me one more time. “Wow! What’s that for?” I let out a puzzled expression. She smiled gorgeously and occupied the empty sit beside me, “For making me worried.”

“You must be mistaken Sir but I didn’t order this,” Al ignored her remark and left the drink in front of her.

“Let’s say it’s my treat,” I swooped in.

“Why whiskey on the rocks? That’s my favorite!” her cheeks flushed. 

“Honest answer? A hunch. Psychological? You look like a woman who prefer a strong one but needs your long day freshened.”

“Well said Ralph,” and she offered a toast with my half-drunk Manhattan. 

“Do you want to go for a walk? I’m pretty sure you are tired staying in the hospital.”

“Tired? I’m sick of it! Where to?”

“A park close by. Let’s go.”

            The leather jacket was not a bad idea after all. The night breeze was piercing to the bones. As we went deeper into the park, Helen’s grasp grew tighter. Occasional cough disrupted the solitary night. “You good?” I asked and wrapped my leather jacket around her revealing my flesh to the cold. “You know, wearing a dress in the outdoors is never a good idea.” She smiled and chuckled while continue walking towards a stone bridge.  “I was wearing this dress when I got proposed,” she uttered. I let silence and a simple nod to be my answer.  

            Her index finger pointed at the stone bridge a few meters away. “I wonder if fish sleeps.” I stayed silent. It is a rhetorical question. We walked closer and reached the mossy stones of the bridge.  I peered to the night sky disregarding her call. Only until she grabbed my arm I realized she has been calling for a few times. She guided me to the center of the bridge. Her muffled voice raced with the stream under to be heard.

“I got engaged here.”

“Sweet! Who’s the lucky guy?”

She stared deep into me without answering. 

“Tell me more about this,” I startled, “engagement.” 

“It was a Friday in November. I just finished working when she picked me up. He said he was taking us to his favorite sushi place. I think it’s Kiyadon. Then he took a wrong turn. He never takes a wrong turn.”

“He loves Kiyadon Sushi? Such a fine taste this man has. Damn their food is so good! Freshest fish I’ve had! Nothing better!”

She lets out a hopeful glaze, “You’ve gone there too? What do you remember?”

“Course! Always have my Friday lunch there!”

She dropped her gaze.

“Anyways, back to you.”

“Then his car stopped in this park. Right in front of the gate we entered before. She opened my door and guide me towards the bridge.”

“Something is bugging you? Either a laugh or a lump,” I said as a reply to her repetitive playing of hair.  

She shook her head and laughed lightly, “Walking to the bridge I held his arm so hard thinking spiders were all over the trees.”

I let out a shy smile, “It isn’t spider at all isn’t it?” 

She shook her head and half laughing she speaks, “Not at all. They’re photographs. Picture from our first date to the last ball we attended.”

I exhaled trying to usher away the creeping boredom, “And now. The proposal I presume?” 

Her smile was as beautiful as ever as it now revealed the dimples in her cheek, “He took me to the center of the bridge. He is different. He has always been different. He just slipped a ring into my finger and asked the important question. He pecked my forehead as his hands played through my hair.” 

“What did you say?”

“Yes! Of course!”

“Such a funny guy. Seems familiar somewhere.”

She shot me a sharp waiting stare.

“Ah gosh sorry. The doctors aren’t helping. I couldn’t remember him at all.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’m sorry Helen.”

“Let me give you a clue. He is the best psychologist I’ve ever met.”

“Well Freud is dead and I can’t find anyone better than him.”

“He owns this brown leather jacket,” pointing at the jacket I gave her to wear.   

I grew silent hearing her words, “Me! Gosh! It’s me! I married you?”

“Yes Ralph! Finally, you remembered,” she held my palms and grew closer, “Do you remember me?”

I took a step away, “I can’t. I really can’t. Hey you’re nice and all but I can’t Helen. I’m sorry.”

“What do you mean? We are married!”

“We were married. Dammit Helen! If I can’t even remember you how can I remember my feelings for you.”

“If you lost them, get them back!” 

“I can’t,” I repeated my words more assertively, “I can’t Helen. I’m sorry. My bad. I screwed up. Look, you’re beautiful and smart. You won’t find any difficulty finding another.”

“Ralph! That’s not the point! I, I,” she took half minute to complete her sentence, “I love you!”

“Nope. I just can’t Helen. If we’re together then all the feelings will just be fake, all made up.”

“At least try for a while. Look at me Ralph!” she held my chin as her tears began to melt.   

“I see nothing, Helen. I see nothing except another person whom I know a thing or two about but feel nothing about.”

“See. You know some things about me. You remember my favorite drink. You remember me, Ralph.”

“Gosh! The only way I know these things is only by analyzing you. What? You want to spend the rest of your life as a research subject?”

“Try again Ralph. Please. Do it for me. I’m begging you!” her left hand rested on my cheek while her right ran through the back of my ear, “Please, Ralph? At least just try. You cannot leave me.” 

“Try again? It’s not that easy! You won’t understand I guess. Stop. Please just stop Helen. Anything we had is all gone! Things are never going to be the same.”

“Doctors said you will recover in time.”

“Yeah right! I checked up with another doctor, permanent damage in my brain.” 

“Then let me help you. And we’ll make new memories. I’ll help you.”

“I’m sorry to say Helen but, you are no one to me anymore. I don’t know you. I’m sorry.”

I walked into the darkness leaving her behind.

            The day was still young when I returned to the hospital and laid on my bed. It hasn’t been two hours since I shut my eyes when a gentle shake woke me from my deep sleep. “Mr. Harris. I am sorry to bother you but something just happened.” I shot her a puzzled half-awake look. “Huh?” my confusion and fatigue from last night stirred into impatience, “Gosh! Make it simple. Just tell me what you want.” The nurse stuttered startled by the sharp tone running through her ears, “Right. Sorry Sir. A relative of yours just had an accident. She is downstairs right now.”

On the bed, surrounded by cold metal medical tools monitoring her heartbeat Helen laid motionless. Her breath was slow and deep. Her eyes were shut leaving no light or vision to disrupt her deep sleep. The auburn hair I adored was raveled onto the pillow. Her neck was purplish in color as her face was pale. I can already assume that she just had a wonderful date with death. A miracle it was that death failed to woo her. I agree how cold the previous statement is but that’s the truth. I’m not sure how I phrase that before the accident but right now, that’s me. Just another solitary creature.  

“A minute longer and she would have been a goner,” a light voice said before me.

“Well hell is no place for her.”

The voice laughed vaguely, “They found her hanging in her apartment room. Lucky her friend come to visit.”

“I guess such unpredictability always fill our lives.”

“Doctor Smith by the way. You’re her husband?” he offered his handshake.

“Supposedly.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nah forget it.”

“You’re the amnesia patient?”

“You got it. I guess word travels fast.”

He smiled emphatically.

“Hey doc, I guess I’d rather go soon.”

“Why? You’re leaving her just like that.”

“Trust me. It’s better for her.”

“So, you’re never going back?”

“Nope, never will. I guess it is the best for all of us.”

“At least wait for her to wake? Just a simple farewell before you part ways?”

            I glanced at him and nodded. It was funny how a layer of glass can separate two different atmospheres. The seemed to be caring doctor in one end and a motionless beauty in the other. A cold air surrounded the bed she was laying on. I knew her life has not neglected her. Careful steps ensure that her sleep shall not be disturbed. I kept silent worried my voice would dismay. A gentle kiss on her forehead was enough for today. I walked towards the door trying to not look back.  

“You’re good?”

“Yeah doc. I’m good. A favor though?”

“Anything you need.”

“I want white roses in her room. Changed every week.”

“That’s her favorite flower?”

“I guess so.”

“How do you know?”

“Just another hunch.”