Soul Hostage (6 page)

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Authors: Jeffrey Littorno

BOOK: Soul Hostage
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     “She turned her face away in such a manner that it looked to me like she was trying to hide tears.  ‘I… have to…. have to check on dinner.’  Linda said quickly as she ran out of the room toward the kitchen.   

     “‘She gets so nervous when she has to cook for guests.’  Theresa laughed.  ‘Isn’t that right, Gary?’ 

     “Gary didn’t move or say anything at all for about      a minute.  It seemed like he was so completely lost in thought that he hadn’t heard anything. Then suddenly almost as if he had been shocked back to consciousness, Gary’s head jerked upward and he looked directly at me.  ‘I can’t do this.’ He stated flatly to no one in particular. 

     “The room was silent for a few seconds before Theresa moved over next to Gary.  She put her hand on his shoulder and said cheerfully, ‘Okay, Gary.  Why don’t you go check to see how Linda’s doing with dinner?’  Gary was motionless for a moment before Theresa’s hand pushed his shoulder in the direction of the kitchen.   He looked at the hand and then at me before moving toward the kitchen.

     “As soon as Gary was out of the room, I asked, ‘So what’s going on?’ 

     “My wife looked at me as one looks at a stranger and then answered, ‘It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it? Gary and Linda are having troubles.’

     “When I told Theresa I had asked Gary about that very thing and he denied it, she looked at me for a few seconds and then shaking her head said, ‘Oh, don’t be such a man!  Of course, he’s not going to admit it.  Do you think he wants to admit failure?’ 

     “I considered what Theresa said but couldn’t accept her premise.  ‘Gary and I have known each other too long for him to hold something like this back.  We know each other too well not to share these things honestly.’

     “Again she looked at me with a condescending smirk and shook her head.  ‘Apparently, you don’t know him as well as you thought.’  As much as I hated to do it, I had to admit that she was probably right. 

     “While I was still in the midst of trying to          reconcile the notion of my self-centered wife’s sudden insight into the psychology of the modern male with the confusing behavior of my best friend, Theresa refilled my glass with Scotch from the large crystal decanter. Since my wife had not so much as offered me a glass of water since the first year of our marriage, this bizarre occurrence forced itself into a head already full of bizarre occurrences. I would have commented on it had I not been distracted by something else.

     “‘Now that is definitely not right!’  I was staring close-ly at Gary’s full glass of Scotch with its half-melted ice cubes. ‘This fine Scotch deserves to be treated with much more respect!’   I started to stand with the idea of taking the drink to Gary. 

     “It was then that I became fully aware of just how much the alcohol had affected me.  My legs seemed un-able to support my body and my mind unable to focus on any of the strange ideas and images that were spinning around inside it.  The next thing I knew I was being lifted from the floor by Gary and Theresa.    

    “As they helped me onto the nearby couch, I slurred, ‘You di’nt finish yer drink.’

    “‘That’s right, buddy.  I didn’t finish it.’  Gary’s voice seemed very distant like sound travelling down a long corridor.  

     “I was also aware of another sound coming down that corridor.  It was the sound of crying.  I turned my head in that direction. My eyes wouldn’t focus fully, but I could make out the shape of Linda standing near the bar.  Suddenly, Theresa was standing next to her.   I had the feeling that they were talking but couldn’t hear anything.

     “I must have passed out or something, because the next thing I knew I was alone in the room.  I was slumped over on the couch and tried to lift my head to look around. Everything blurred as soon as I attempted to move.  I’m not sure how long I was there by myself.

     “All of a sudden, Gary’s face appeared above me.  I tried to say something but couldn’t manage it. I could see Gary’s mouth moving, but the words came out as garbled noise.  He turned to look at something.  Then his face was replaced by Theresa’s.  Her condescending smirk was still in place.  She looked at me for a moment before reaching to my face and lifting my eyelids with her fingers.  My loving wife moved closer and studied what she found under my eyelids.  She turned her head and gave me the impression that she was talking.  But again, all that I heard was some gibberish. 

     “It seemed like I passed out for some time.  When I came to and was somewhat aware of my surroundings, Gary and Theresa were pulling me up from the couch.  For some reason, I felt an overwhelming sense of euphoria.  A smile stretched across my face as I           exclaimed, ‘Okay, let’s get this party started!’  I’m not certain how clearly my words came out or if they came out as words at all.  The only thing I remember was that all motion seemed to halt as I spoke. 

     “In my next moment of consciousness, I found myself behind the wheel of my BMW.  I could smell Theresa’s perfume and then she was leaning over me fastening my seatbelt. I wanted to grab her arm, but no matter how hard I concentrated and willed my arm to move I could only manage to wiggle my fingers a little.  The idea that she was standing outside the car but reaching inside to fasten my belt stuck me as funny for some reason and I heard the sound of my own laughter.  Well, it was my laughter, but it sounded as though it was coming from a long way off.  Then Theresa’s face was floating right in front of me. She smiled and kissed me on the forehead.

     “That’s right, Louis, just sit back and enjoy the ride.”  Theresa’s words dripped with sugary sarcasm and echoed through my mind. 

     “At that moment, it was as if a dam had broken, and many other sights and sounds rushed out to flood my senses.  There was the sparkle of the silver BMW logo on my keychain dangling from the ignition.  The even purr of the engine idling.  Behind me through the rear window, a pair of headlights glared and cast a strange glow on the interior of my car.     

     “Then I realized that I was not alone in the car.  There was something in the passenger’s seat next to me.  The headlights glistened off the moist red patch showing through curly brown hair on back of Linda’s head. She was slumped over and not moving.  The only thing holding her in place was the seatbelt stretched across her chest.    

    “‘Linda!’ I yelled without much volume and without any success at getting her to move.  ‘Linda!’ 

     “I may have lost consciousness again.  I’m not sure.  It doesn’t really matter I suppose.  In the next moment of which I was fully aware, the car was moving. I could hear the crackling of the tires on gravel. The headlights were no longer illuminating the interior of the car.  Everything was dark. 

     “I was later informed that everything was dark for me for almost three months. Anyway, I woke up in a hospital. 

     “The room was quiet except for the beeping of the machine monitoring my heart. I tried to move but immediately noticed that my hands were held to the silver rails on each side of the bed by dark brown leather cuffs.  As much as I thrashed around, I could not free myself.  I tried to call for help but could not manage anything louder than a whisper.  My throat felt raw and dry. Finally, after I spent several minutes rattling the rails on the bed as forcefully as possible, an orderly passing by my room heard the noise and came in. 

     “I remember that he was a chubby young man with curly blond hair who did not look old enough to be out of high school much less working in a hospital.  When the orderly saw I was awake and moving around, he looked like he was having a panic attack.  His head swiveled in every direction looking for guidance. While his head was still moving, he said, ‘Uh, you’re awake!  Okay!  Stay right there!  You’re awake!’  He rushed out of the room immediately after making that perceptive observation as to my state of consciousness. 

     “I was again alone to wonder just what had happened to me and how long I had been in this place.  I did not have to wonder for long as the young orderly returned followed by a doctor and a police officer. The officer plopped down in a chair next to the door in a way which made it clear he was used to sitting there. 

     “’Ah, I see you are finally awake, Mister Stoaffer.’   The doctor stood very close to the bedside and looked down into my face.  He was a tall man with black hair and sideburns.  He looked very familiar to me.  I’m not sure why but the idea I knew him suddenly consumed my thoughts. He was saying something and shining a little penlight into one of my eyes and then the other. 

     “Chad Everett!  It finally occurred to me who the doctor resembled.  It was Chad Everett from that medical show in the seventies.  After satisfying my brain itch by answering the question, I was able to listen to what the doctor was saying.  All of a sudden, I realized that he had stopped talking and was awaiting a reply from me.

     “’I’m sorry, doctor. Could you … repeat … uh …             your question and … could I get some water?’  At least,        this is what I wanted to say.  In reality, all that came out was a sound sort of like a cat hissing. But it seemed to be enough for Doctor Chad.

     “’Orderly, go get a cup of ice chips for Mister Stoaffer,’ he said to the young man who left quickly. 

     “’Now then, Mister Stoaffer,’ the doctor said as he held my wrist to check my pulse, ‘can you tell me how you got here?’ He glanced over at the officer as he asked the question. 

     “At that time, my recollection was very fuzzy.  The memories that I shared with you about going to Gary and Linda’s house for dinner and everything that happened afterwards did not comeback until much later.  At the moment of Doctor Chad’s inquiry as to my recall of the events leading up to my arrival at the hospital, I had no memory, or more accurately my brain was repressing memories. 

     “’Well’, I started to croak out, ‘I remember … I … uh … It was then I discovered the big hole in my memory and frustration overwhelmed me.  

     “The doctor clearly saw the difficulty I was having and remarked, ‘That’s all right. The memory will come back.  For now, your brain is simply protecting you from the further pain the memories might cause.” 

     “He watched me for a moment presumably deciding whether or not continue.  Finally, he asked, ‘So do you know what year this is?’

     “‘Two thousand three!’ I responded with childlike joy at being able to give the correct answer.

     “’That’s right!’” Doctor Chad replied with the delight of a teacher whose weakest student has given the correct answer.  ‘Now, Mister Stoaffer, do you remember your address?’

     “‘Of course, I live at…umm…’ The words I had expected to roll out of my mouth were missing.  ‘My address is … uh …’

     “The doctor saw my difficulty and said, ‘That’s okay.  Don’t try to force it.  The memory doesn’t react well to force.  It will come back when and if it’s ready.  How about your wife?  Can you tell me her name?’

     “‘Theresa!’ A picture of my wife flashed into my mind.  ‘My wife’s name is Theresa!’

     “Doctor Chad looked down at something on his      clipboard for a moment before answering, ‘Yes, very good, Mister Stoaffer!’ 

     “After a few minutes of quizzing, the orderly returned with a cup of ice chips and a short man in a wrinkled brown suit. I didn’t have too much curiosity about the cup of ice.  The short man in the wrinkled brown suit was  another matter.

     “As I was released from my restraints and sat up to begin pouring the ice chips down my raw sore throat, he stood near the door as if waiting to be invited to proceed further.

     “The doctor stepped closer to me as he said, ‘You should take it slowly.  Otherwise, you’re going…’  Before he could finish his sentence, I gagged on the ice and began choking. ‘…to choke.’

    “He took the cup out of my hand and told me to breathe deeply and slowly. As soon as I calmed down, the choking stopped.  ‘You’re going to have to take it slowly for a while.  Your body is adjusting.’

     “I looked at the doctor and asked in my weak, hoarse voice, ‘Adjusting to what?’      

     “Before Doctor Chad could answer, the man in the wrinkled light brown suit standing near the door spoke, ‘Doc, it might be helpful if I answer that question.’ 

     “The doctor turned toward him and nodded.  This seemed to be the invitation for which he had been waiting.  He strode quickly to the bedside.  ‘Welcome back, Mister Stoaffer.  I am Detective Columbus, and before we talk I need to read you your rights.’

     “To say I was stunned and confused at that point would be an extreme understatement.” 

     Stoaffer stared off into the distance for a while before continuing, “Think about my position.  I had awoken in a hospital with no memory of how I got there, was unable to recall my own home address, and had just been informed that I was under arrest.  The whole thing felt more than a little surreal. Like maybe something out of an old B-grade movie.

     “Detective Columbus recited the whole spiel about having the right to remain silent and so forth.  I can’t  honestly say I heard much of what he said, but my answer was yes when asked if I had understood everything. 

     “’Detective, as this man’s doctor,’ Doctor Chad interrupted.  ‘I must request that your questions be kept to a minimum with no effort made to coerce answers.  Mister Stoaffer’s condition is stable but remains guarded.’  Neither man could keep from grinning and glancing toward the officer at the unintentional pun.

     “‘Doc, I understand you’re looking out for your patient and all, but you need to understand that my investigation has been on hold for nearly three months waiting for this man to wake up.’

     “It took a moment for the detective’s mention of three months to sink in. Could it really be possible that I had been in this place for three months?  The idea was too much to accept, and without realizing it, I started shaking my head.  It suddenly became urgent to get out of that room.  I rolled toward the railing on the side of the bed and attempted to lift myself over it.  Obviously, my thoughts were a jumble.  Until then I had not noticed the  IV tubes running out of my arm or the catheter tube connected to my penis. 

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