Memories Unlocked #1

He saw the storm coming and knew he was in for another wild ride. He had lost track of the days he had been away from the island and knew his chances of getting back home were dwindling.  His fellow castaways had been right. The last squall had just about capsized the raft and although he had managed to keep afloat, the remaining food and fresh water had washed overboard.  He pulled the picture from his pocket and stared at his family. "I'm sorry. This is all my fault. If I survive this, I'll make it up to all of you."  The waves started getting rougher and he laid down on the raft trying to balance himself in the center and slipped his hands into the ropes as much as he could.  From the looks of the sky, things were going to get nasty.

The storm hit hard and it was all he could do to stay on the raft. He attempted to get some of the rainwater into him when he wasn't being beaten down by the large waves crashing over him. The storm seemed to last for hours and finally it blew itself out. He was exhausted, unable to move.  His hands were bloody and ripped to shreds.  In the silent night, a weak triumphant laugh emanated from the raft as it continued its lone journey.

He was drifting and the sun was beating down on him unmercifully. It had been two days of the unrelenting sun since the storm. He would have given his fortune that moment for a cloud. His whole body was shrunken and shriveled from the lack of water and food. At one point, he had almost begun to drink the ocean water but his stomach had rebelled. He knew he couldn’t drink the water, but he splashed it up on him trying to cool off.  His fingertips were raw from holding onto the raft during the last storm, and their nerve endings radiated the pain through him as the salt water hit them. The sun was blinding him and he closed his eyes. It didn’t seem to help. In the distance, he heard a roar but was too weak to do anything, but lie there. Suddenly he felt himself flying through the air. Then the water was covering him. He was sinking and being tossed around in the water. A wave tossed and smashed him into a rock. Pain flashed through him. He was like a pinball, hitting one rock after the other until his head collided with one and he descended into oblivion.

****

She didn’t know why, but she missed him and hadn’t been able to shake the memories. God, she wished she knew where he had disappeared to.  It had been months since she had foiled his plan to kidnap the children. She had expected him to come back to town begging for another chance, but he hadn’t. Troy had been doing his best to make her forget, but it was no good. Admit it, you love the bastard and always will. Where are you, you miserable son of a bitch? Your kids need you. ”Heddy, I’m going out." The coward was afraid to come home and face her, so it was up to her to find him.

A short time later she arrived at her destination and walked in to find Sam Vance sitting behind her desk. "I have a job for you."

****

Dr. Miguela Sanchez entered the room of John Doe to check on his progress.  It had been a little over a week since he had been found on the shore of Guam.  He had been a mess, broken and battered by the reef surrounding the island, dehydrated and malnourished.  At first, they had been certain he was dead on arrival.  An alert coroner’s assistant had seen his hand move and the doctors had then worked to save him.  Though severely injured, the man refused to die.  No one could believe the man had lived through that beating.  Dr. Sanchez was the surgeon in charge that night and had spent close to ten hours piecing the man back together.  Of biggest concern had been the skull fracture and spinal injuries.  The first night had been the most crucial, now they waited to see if he would awaken.  The doctor looked at the chart and then reached for the patient’s wrist to check his pulse.  The action caused a moan to escape from the patient and the doctor immediately pulled out a light to check the eyes.  The patient was coming around.

He focused on the light in his eyes and headed toward it finding the strength to open his heavy lids.  As his vision cleared, he saw a beautiful woman standing above him.  She was petite with raven colored hair and she smiled at him.

"Well, you finally decided to wake up. I’m Dr. Sanchez."

He looked around the room and then looked up at the woman. "Where?" The question was barely whispered.

"You’re in the hospital in Guam.  You were found washed up on shore, there were also pieces of what appeared to be some kind of raft.  Do you remember?" He looked at her, puzzled, and started to shake his head no, but winced when the pain hit him.  "Easy, you were pretty severely injured.  You’ve suffered a fractured skull and numerous other broken bones and a broken back.  Luckily your spinal cord wasn’t severed. I'm the doctor that performed your surgery.  It was touch and go there, for a while."

It took him a moment to comprehend what she was telling him.  His body felt strange and he attempted to look down at it and became alarmed.  Both of his arms, as well as his chest and back, were encased in casts.  He couldn’t see his legs, but everything below his waist felt heavy and he couldn’t move anything.  An irrational fear of confinement swept through him.  He hated being restrained. "No, let me up." He tried to move and pain rushed through him, but he was desperate.

"Please, you must calm down, or I’ll have to sedate you.  We had to tie you down to ensure you didn’t move around.  Your back was broken in several places and the repair was delicate.  You must remain still to avoid undoing it and possibly hurting yourself even more."  She laid a hand on his shoulder.  "You seemed confused when I mentioned how you were found. Can you tell me what you were doing on the ocean in a raft? You must have been out there for a long time. You were severely dehydrated and we’ve been trying to replenish your fluids since you arrived. Where were you coming from? How did you end up on a raft?”

He began to panic. He searched his memory but was coming up with a complete blank. "I don’t know," he whispered.

"Okay, let’s try an easier question. Can you tell me your name?

He looked at the doctor standing above him. "I'm..." What was wrong with him, he should know his own name? "I've got a name. Why can't I remember it?  Oh God, what happened to me?"

Dr. Sanchez frowned. She had been quietly hoping the patient wouldn't have a problem, but it appeared the damage sustained in the head injury and subsequent aneurysm had taken its toll on the memory center of his brain. "I don't want you to worry about that at this time. You sustained a severe head wound and that can sometimes affect memory. I need to check on a few other things. Can you feel this?"  She touched a needle to his hand and he jerked it away.

He had never known his hand to be so sensitive, but it felt like she had burned him.

"Good, how about here?" She moved to the end of the bed and raised the sheet to his unencased feet. She touched the soul of his foot and got no response.

He was watching her and had been dreading another sensation like the one on his hand. It didn't come. She must not have touched him yet.

She looked up to see him looking anxiously back at her "Are you ready?"

He nodded, intent on her next move.

Dr. Sanchez pressed the point of her instrument into the top of his foot. "Do you feel that?"

"Yes." He wasn't sure, but he thought he had felt something.

The doctor decided one more test was important. She lifted the sheet over his other foot and once more looked at her patient.

He needed to know. Was he really feeling it?  “Go ahead.”

Miguela watched his face and knew her patient was as concerned as she was. She ran the probe on the bottom of his second foot and it never moved. Placing the point on the top and pushing down, she said. “Do you feel that?”

He nodded yes.

She moved the probe and instead of actually touching him she merely asked. “How about now?”

He replied yes.   Then he saw the doctor’s face.  “What is it?” his voice anxious as he sensed what she was about to tell him.

“I’m sorry, I think we have a problem.  You said you felt something, but I didn’t touch you that time.  It was necessary to see if you were actually feeling something or just imagining it.”

“No! I felt something.  Take the cover off, let me see what you’re doing.”

The doctor moved the sheet so that her patient could see what she was doing. She again ran the probe along the sole and then placed the point on the top of his foot so he could see it actually resting there. She then pushed down.  “I’m not trying to fool you.  I know you can say you feel that, but you currently have none of the automatic reflexes that would be independent of actual feeling.  If you could truly feel anything your feet would be responsive when I touch the bottom of them.”

His head dropped back on the bed.  She was right.  He had been all set to lie to her, but it would have gained him nothing.  The reality was he couldn’t feel anything.  He was only half a man.  One that didn’t even know who he was.

Dr. Sanchez moved back up beside him and touched his shoulder. “It’s too soon to tell if this is temporary or permanent, there is a lot of swelling, and it’s possible with intense therapy you’ll get some feeling back.  I want you to rest, so I’m going to give you something to relax you.  I’ll be back in a short time to check on you.  Please, you mustn’t worry.  Your injuries were very severe.  You need to let yourself heal.”

“Please! I don’t want to be knocked out. Help me.”  He was pleading with her and watched helplessly as she administered the sedative.

“It’s for the best. You’ll see.  Your body and mind need the rest.”  She marked a few items on his chart and watched him succumb to the medication.

        
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