Memory, p.17
Memory, page 17
“Successfully?” he asked finally.
“There were slash marks,” Ramirez said. “But he had a leather jacket on. It absorbed most of it, I think. Ben said he was fast, not a fighter, but fast. Someone finally used a sap on him just as Ben shouted at them and entered the fray. That’s the concern. That brain is squirrelly as it is. And a sap? You can kill someone with one. I doubt that was the intent — seems more like they wanted to carve him up. Scar him. I’ll see them do time for this, I swear.”
Ramirez was furious too, Cage thought. Good.
“Davis’s legacy of hate,” McShane said grimly.
They waited silently until Dr. Clarke came out. She looked around at all the people and shook her head.
“Most of you need to go home,” she said tiredly. “It’s unlikely Ryan will be the only person who needs me tonight, and you’re taking up space. So, go home. Teresa? Come into my office and we’ll talk.”
Teresa looked around at the people in the waiting room. “You might as well tell all of us,” she said. “Or I will just have to repeat it for everyone. It’s OK,” she added when Dr. Clarke started to object. “I’ll sign whatever form you need. These people are his family.”
Dr. Clarke smiled at that. “OK, then,” she said. “He has four lacerations, none of them serious, although the one on his neck could have been. He must have pulled away from the strike. There appear to have been two different knives, but I can’t tell you much more than that.” She looked at Ramirez. “You should have an expert look at him for that kind of evidence. It is outside my expertise.”
Ramirez nodded. “I’ll have someone come up with a crime kit,” he said.
“Someone used a sap on him. Hit him pretty hard. All of Ryan’s vitals are fine, he’s just unconscious. We need to watch him, but he will wake when his brain decides he should. If that doesn’t happen in the next eight hours or so, I’ll consider possible interventions then. I want to do an MRI as soon as possible, however, to make sure there are no bleeds in the brain. But I don’t think there are.”
She stopped and appeared to be thinking if there was anything else.
“Doctor?” Teresa said. “A blow like this? What does it do to the brain? His memories have been wonky lately.”
“They have,” Dr. Clarke agreed. “And I don’t have an answer to that. My focus will be on waking him up, and then he can tell us how the memories are.”
Teresa nodded. She looked around and smiled at everyone. “Go home,” she said. “Thank you all for coming, but Dr. Clarke is right. And it could be a while. So, go home. If I need to be spelled? I will call for someone else to sit with him.”
She looked at Cage. “Can you call your mother? Have Bianica take Rafael? That would help.”
He nodded. “But then I’m coming back to sit with you,” he said.
“We can take Rafael,” Abigail said after a look at her husband. “It will be a pleasure to have him for the day. And it will be easier because we are right here.”
Teresa hesitated, then nodded. “Thank you,” she said.
McShane took the boy back from her. “Getting heavy,” he observed. “Growing up.”
“Si,” she said. “Yes, yes, he is.”
Cage looked at Ramirez, and then he sighed. “President McShane? Do you have room to give me a ride down the hill? Looks like the man I came up with is going to be busy for a while.”
Ramirez nodded. “I’ve got three of the attackers over in the emergency room to talk to.” His expression said they wouldn’t enjoy it. He looked at Dr. Clarke. “I’ll send someone up.”
“Have them ask for me,” Dr. Clarke agreed.
And then there was just Teresa and Dr. Clarke. There had always been a bit of friction between them, Teresa felt. Probably because the day Ryan chose to introduce them was the day Clarke had to tell Ryan that her supervisory committee had decided he was now too old to be served and she needed to refer him out. Dr. Clarke had been very abrupt that day; it made Teresa feel awkward.
“Will your supervisory committee have a problem with us bringing him to you?” she asked as she followed the doctor down the hallway to the Ryan’s room.
“Possibly,” she conceded, looking back at Teresa. “And possibly I will tell them to take a flying leap.”
Teresa smiled. “We can always sic President McShane on them,” she suggested.
Dr. Clarke laughed. “We could indeed.”
Then she sobered and looked at Teresa. “You need to be prepared. I don’t expect him to be unconscious for very long. His body responds. Poke him with a pin and he flinches, for instance. He moved away from a loud noise. But I don’t know what he will be like when he awakens. He responds to trauma by storing the memories in his memory vault. He may do that to this. So, he may not recognize you. If that happens, we’ll deal with it, but you need to be prepared.”
“I understand,” she said. “But I promised I would be there if he calls my name.”
Dr. Clarke nodded. “Now we wait.”
Chapter 18
3 P.M. SATURDAY, JUNE 12, 2021 OHSU — It had been a long day. Teresa sat next to Ryan, one hand resting on him, the other holding her phone as she read. An orderly had taken Ryan away for an MRI mid-morning, and Teresa had used the time to find a cafeteria and eat something. Cage was waiting when she got back.
“Do you want to go get a real meal?” he asked.
“The cafeteria has good food,” she answered. “Bad coffee, but good food.”
He smiled. “Then let’s go get coffee,” he suggested. “You need fresh air and a break from here. For your own well-being and for Ryan’s. You can’t do him any good, if you are stressed and exhausted. You will alarm him. And he will know. Orders from Emily by the way. She’s working tonight, or she’d be here.”
Teresa considered his words and nodded. “Si, he will be able to tell,” she said. Her smile was sad. “He notices things.” She followed him out to his car.
“He does,” Cage agreed. He drove down the south side of the OHSU hill, through the park.
She relaxed as they navigated the winding road; she watched the lush green as it went by. So different from the open vistas she was used to, she thought. Yakima was at the base of hills, mountains actually, but mostly it was open and you could see to the horizon. Sometimes she missed the horizon. It was one of the reasons she was willing to move into the house in Portland Heights. You could see forever from the deck there: The river. The mountains beyond. It made her eyes feel good to stretch like that.
Cage drove through a Starbucks drive-through off Terwilliger. She was grateful. She didn’t think she had the energy to mask up, go inside, wait in line, get her order. She got a venti latte with an extra shot, two sugars, and whip cream. Cage raised an eyebrow at it; she was usually a black coffee drinker, and she’d switched to tea when she got pregnant. Well once wasn’t going to be a problem, and anything that got her through this day was a win. She would need the sugar. And the caffeine. And the fat in all that cream wouldn’t hurt either.
Cage, however, stuck to black coffee with cream. She sighed with pleasure as she took her first sip. He didn’t know what he was missing. She didn’t indulge very often: who could afford those calories? He laughed at the pleasure she was taking in it. She grinned at him.
“You need to get Emily to try one,” she said. Emily was recovering — finally — from anorexia. She was discovering all kinds of things: chocolate molten cake, chocolate ice cream, chocolate cookies — was there a theme there?
“I obviously should,” he said smiling. “Does it come with chocolate?”
Teresa laughed. “Yes,” she informed him. “Then it’s called a mocha. I should have gotten one of those — I missed one of the four basic food groups: caffeine, sugar, fat, but no chocolate.”
He grinned.
“How is she doing with her weight? I haven’t checked since I stopped running with her.” She felt guilty, a bit, but Ryan had been laid up. And now being four months pregnant she really wasn’t interested in running. She could — women did, but no, she wasn’t going to do that.
“She’s doing fine,” he said. “She still gaining about a pound a week. The doctor is happy, the dietitian is happy, and I guess the therapist is happy, although Em doesn’t talk about the therapy much.” He frowned a bit at the last.
“Does that worry you?” Teresa asked, glad to talk about something besides Ryan.
“No,” he said. “Well, a bit, I guess. But she doesn’t have to share everything, does she? You didn’t see her last night! She bought a tight short black skirt, but she’s been too shy to wear it. And really? We don’t go out much. But she wore it to Ryan’s performance. And damn she looked good. You should have seen her. I think Joe got pictures. I hope so.”
“I should have been there,” she said. “Ryan protects me too much.”
“Well, Rafael does complicate things,” Cage said, as he pulled back into the OHSU parking lot. “Believe me, the art gallery was no place for a 3-year-old last night. He might have missed the meaning of most of it, but seeing a larger-than-life portrait of his father naked with horns and a tail? That’s nightmare fodder.”
“What?” Teresa turned and looked at him. “I haven’t heard the details.”
Cage gave her the rundown of Ryan’s performance. “Performance art, Robert called it. Protest art. He was very impressed. And very critical of the art exhibit. He’s writing a review for the last Folio of the year. Lam is excited, I hear. Robert doesn’t write much anymore, but I remember when he did. He’s brutal.”
Teresa laughed. “Good,” she said. “Because I might have a few words myself. Ryan as the devil? Cage, what the hell?”
Cage shook his head. They finished their drinks in the parking lot and masked up for the clinic. They were both vaccinated, but protocol still called for masks. Especially here. He held the door for her as they went in.
Ryan was back from the MRI, but he was still unconscious. Teresa resumed her vigil.
In the mid-afternoon, the crime specialist came. Not even that woke him up. Teresa felt frantic.
Around 6 p.m. President McShane came into the room. “I have dinner in the car for you,” he said in the oddly formal and courteous voice he used with her. She nodded, and with one anxious look at Ryan, she followed him out.
“Abigail is having a good time with Rafael,” he told her as they leaned against his car, and she ate her sandwich. “She misses the grandchildren. We need to make a trip to see them, but they’re spread all over the place. We moved a lot. The girls chose colleges everywhere, it seems, and there you go. I have 13 grandchildren in four households, and besides a granddaughter here at PSU, not only are they in different states, they are in different regions! And if we were to go see one family and not the others? We would never hear the end of it.”
Teresa giggled at his morose tone. “See, you should be like a Mexican American family. Both sets of grandparents, my parents, all of their siblings, most of my cousins — all live in Yakima or very close to it. They worry because I am so far away!”
He laughed. “What is it? A three-hour drive?”
She nodded. She liked that she could make him laugh. He didn’t do it as often as he should, she thought. Only with Abigail.
And with Ryan.
She swallowed hard, and then forced herself to finish the sandwich. I am already eating for two, she thought. And I am eating for Ryan, too. I must be strong.
McShane handed her some chips, and then a brownie. She resolutely ate it all.
“Good,” he said with approval. His dom voice, she thought with a grin.
“I joined in on the Zoom editors’ meeting,” he said. “Everything is good there. I didn’t tell them anything about Ryan. I don’t know what to tell them yet. I did tell them not to try to come up and visit. They agreed. They probably would have come up anyway, but apparently, they’re all moving. You should have heard Cage. That was news to him, and I guess the building is almost next door to his place. He was incredulous. How could that happen, and Ryan hadn’t told him?”
Teresa laughed, and McShane smiled at her. It felt good to laugh.
“Thank you,” she said sincerely. “Are you OK with keeping Rafael overnight? Because he can go to the Washingtons’ home. Mrs. Washington’s grandson is his best friend. He has had sleepovers there before.”
“Let’s try it,” he said. “I remember being a young parent. You can’t have too many backup families. I have Martha Washington’s number. If Rafael is unhappy, I’ll call her and take him there.”
“Thank you,” she said. “You’re very good to do all of this for Ryan.”
He smiled and took her trash and put it in a garbage bag in the car. “It’s not just for Ryan, Teresa,” he said as he got in the car. “But for you as well. You are precious to us, too, you know”
She stood there, open-mouthed, as he drove away. She felt tears in her eyes and brushed them away. Pregnancy made her cry every time she got emotional. And his words touched her. Then she squared her shoulders, blinked back the tears, and marched back into the clinic.
It was nearly 10 p.m. when Ryan woke up. He grabbed Teresa’s hand tightly and began crying.
Teresa pushed the nurses’ call button and tried to soothe Ryan.
“I remember,” he said earnestly to her. “I remember everything. It’s too much, beloved, make it stop!”
Dr. Clarke came into the room, an orderly right behind her, and behind him was Cage.
“Dr. C,” Ryan said, a name he hadn’t used in years, maybe decades. “Make it stop. The memory vault, it’s gone. I wouldn’t let it take these memories, and it fought me. When I won? It dissolved. I remember. I can’t.... The kaleidoscope? It’s spinning, and I can’t....”
“Hush, now,” Dr. Clarke said, soothing him. “It’s OK. I’m going to make you sleep for a while, Ryan. Let your brain adjust. It will be OK.”
“No!” he shouted and lunged as if to get out of bed. The orderly grabbed for him, and Ryan fought him off. “No, Dr. C.! If I sleep, there will be nightmares. Please!”
Dr. Clarke’s jaw was clenched tight. Teresa looked at her worriedly. “His nightmares, they are very bad,” she said softly.
“It’s the only answer I have,” Dr. Clarke said.
Teresa nodded. Cage was holding Ryan now.
“Teresa!” Ryan called. “I am lost. Where are you?”
“I am here,” she said firmly. And she moved to where he could see her.
“You called my name,” she said. “I promised. I am here. But you must calm down. Do you trust me?”
He stilled. “Beloved,” he said. He was breathing hard and covered with sweat. Teresa’s heart ached.
“Good,” she said, approval in her voice. The same tone that President McShane had used when she ate all her supper. But then, it had been McShane who had taught her the routines, master and sub, that Ryan responded to instinctively. Even now. Maybe especially now.
“Now listen to me, I will be here while you sleep,” she said firmly.
He started to argue.
“No,” she said. “You cannot stay awake forever. So, you must sleep. I will stand guard while you sleep and if not me, then Cage. And if there are nightmares? You will say my name, and I will hear you. Do you believe me?”
“Yes,” he whispered, his eyes fixed on her. “I love you.”
She smiled. “Good, because I love you, and I always will.”
Ryan’s eyes didn’t waver from hers. Dr. Clarke gave him a shot, and he slowly sank into a deep sleep, his eyes still fixed on her.
Teresa walked out into the hallway and sobbed. Cage came out, pulled her into a tight hug. “You did good, girl,” he said. “You are amazing. Go ahead and cry.”
“Pregnancy tears,” she said with a half laugh. “Truly, I am not normally so weepy.”
Cage hugged her. “Look at me?” he said.
She did, and she saw the tears on his face.
“If we can’t cry for the torment that man is going through, we’re no longer human,” he said.
She nodded, and she turned back into his embrace and cried.
Chapter 19
MIDNIGHT, SUNDAY, JUNE 13, 2021, OHSU — Ryan was lost. He kept running, because there were things chasing him. He didn’t know where he was running to. Wasn’t sure what he was running from. He just knew he had to keep running. He leaped onto a train that was pulling out of a station, and dashing through two cars, leaped out again, back onto the platform.
He frowned, have I ridden a train before?
And then he was running up the escalator stairs, shoving his way through people. They screamed. He didn’t blame them, the monsters behind him were ugly. He was sure of it.
He ran through a mall, at least he thought that was what it was. It was empty. The stores were shuttered. Lloyd Center, he wondered? He hadn’t been there in a long time, but he heard there wasn’t much open there. Something leaped out from a store front; he dodged it. Don’t look, he admonished himself. It’s like medusa, it will turn you to stone if you do.
He ran into another store, Nordstrom, he almost sobbed with relief at recognizing it. But he heard a roar, and knew the monsters were closing in. He dodged and ran. You can do this, he told himself, it’s like soccer. Keep running. Keep dodging.
But eventually the monsters had him cornered. Don’t look, he reminded himself, his eyes closed. He could feel them. Big. Ugly. Hot breath. One smelled like cigars.
He screamed. “Teresa!”
“I’m here, love,” Teresa’s voice said. She touched him. He could feel her hands, stroking him, soothing him. “You’re safe. You’re with me. Open your eyes and see.”
He hesitated. But it was his love, he was sure of it. The monsters couldn’t fake the reality of Teresa Valdez. He opened his eyes. He smiled in relief. “Teresa,” he said hoarsely. He swallowed.
She gave him something to drink. It was easier to drink with a straw when he wasn’t facedown, he thought. He frowned. Why would he have been drinking lying face down, he wondered. He let it go. Wonky brain strikes again, he thought.
