After The Storm (Chapter-3)

Carissa cleared away the dishes from the earlier meal and decided to sit and rest for a while. She would have to return to work in a little over a week and she hoped her guest was recovered enough to take care of himself by then. She thought he should have x-rays and some tests as soon as the road was opened again and they could make it to the hospital. Maybe they could visit the sheriff’s office too and get some more information. She wondered in the back of her mind if the memory loss was real or some kind of cover to hide information he would rather not divulge.

Carissa didn’t think her guest was well enough to do much damage at the house, so she decided to take a trip down the highway and check out the progress of the road crews. She could see the orange vest in the distance as she travelled down the two-lane blacktop. She saw them removing fallen trees and she could see in the distance the bridge crew. She pulled over and walked up to talk to the foreman of the crew. She knew most of the people working on the roads. She had grown up in this area and had seen most of these guys at one time or another at the hospital where she worked.

The foreman told her the debris crew would have their work finished by the end of the day but the bridge crew would take at least two more days to get everything repaired. Carissa thanked her friends and headed back to the house, knowing that she would have her guest for at least two more days. She drove back to the house, up the long tree-lined driveway and parked in front of her house. She made her way back inside and immediately went to check on her patient.

She found him awake and sitting up, which was a good sign as far as his health goes. With him gaining strength her risks increased and she was well aware of that. She knew nothing about him except for a name and evidently, that was a fake one. She knew most normal people didn’t use fake names unless there was a good reason and his amnesia seemed too convenient.

When she walked into the room she said, “Good morning, I just drove down to check on the road. They were clearing it off but it will be a couple of days before the bridge is usable again. You seem to be healing pretty good without medical attention.”

Paul replied, “I have received some medical attention, it has all come from you and I give my thanks.”

Carissa replied, “You are welcome, but we need to start some rehab and keep the bandages clean.”

Paul replied, “I am ready to start anytime.”

Carissa said, “I will check your bandages and I have a walker my dad used. We should start trying to get you walking.”

Carissa stopped in the kitchen and brought Paul a glass of orange juice. She said, “We need to get some nourishment down you so you will have the strength to walk.”

Carissa checked on the bandages while Paul drank the orange juice. The wounds had scabbed over and all of the antibiotic salves she had used seemed to have pulled out a lot of the redness. She went to a storage closet and brought out the walker her dad had used and placed it next to the bed. She brought some clothes to Paul that her dad had used, jogging pants and t-shirts mostly.

She asked, “Do you think you can dress?”

Paul replied, “I think I can do that lying down, I can call out if I get in a bind.”

Carissa left the room to allow Paul some privacy and a chance to get dressed. She had cleaned him up pretty well with sponges and rags but at some point, he needed a shower and getting him able to walk would help him make it to the shower chair her dad had used. She went into the kitchen to make some lunch, and getting some solid food down to the patient was one of her priorities. Tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich should give the patient some strength she hoped.

After about fifteen minutes passed and she hadn’t heard any cry for help, she thought maybe things had gone okay. When she walked back into the room she saw Paul sitting on the edge of the bed and completely dressed. Her plan was to get Paul to use the walker and hopefully make it to the breakfast table in the kitchen to eat some lunch.

She said, “I have some lunch ready for you, but I am going to make you work for it. Your job is to use that walker and make it to the breakfast table. I will attach this handicap belt around you and walk behind you holding it just in case.”

Paul slid off the edge of the bed while holding onto the walker. Carissa got behind him and held tightly to the handicap belt as she watched Paul taking his first steps. She noticed his legs shaking and looking a little wobbly but he kept going in his not-so-graceful manner.

Carissa walked behind him encouraging each step, “That’s it, keep going, you are doing very well.”

It was partially true, he was doing well for someone who hadn’t been up walking for a while.

With the breakfast table in sight, the goal appeared to be achievable and added to the determination that Paul seemed to have. Carissa always felt excitement when one of her patients had a milestone achievement. When Paul got close to the dining room chair, Carissa turned it to make it easier for him to get in. He plopped onto the chair in a less-than-graceful move. Paul was out of breath and Carissa could tell it took all he had to make it to that chair. She surmised that he wouldn’t be much of a threat for the foreseeable future.

He was breathing hard and his hands were shaking from the strain of holding up his body on the walker. Carissa thought the use of the walker would be good for Paul’s arm muscles as well as his walking ability. Paul had a muscular frame with well-defined muscles and that didn’t go unnoticed by Carissa. She wouldn’t say anything, preferring to keep that to herself, but she noticed. She was too curious about who had wanted him dead and why.

Carissa and Paul sat across from each other at the table, eating the sandwiches and sipping the soup that was paired with them. The conversation was generic small talk, although Carissa did ask if there was any change in memory and that answer was a resounding no. Carissa talked about her father and the days when he was a police officer, with the late nights of her worrying about whether or not he would walk through the door after his shift was over and the one time when he didn’t.

Paul said, “That must have been stressful for a young girl.”

Carissa replied, “It was, especially after my mom passed. I was barely twelve when my father assumed the duties of the mother as well. He never remarried, he was saddened and just devoted himself to raising me.”

Paul replied, “That was quite a dedication.”

Carissa replied, “It was and I will always be grateful that he did that. We became a lot closer than ever after mom passed. It was difficult for him and I knew he missed mom terribly.”

After they both finished their lunch,

Paul said, “I think I should head back to the bed and rest for a while. Maybe I can make it to the shower tomorrow, but I am worn out today, I guess I did a lot at once but I want to keep working at it.”

Paul used the table to help him stand up and then turned to grab the walker and positioned himself inside it and began his journey back.

Carissa said, “I am not going to hold the belt this time but I will follow behind you just in case. The more you can do for yourself, the better for both of us.”

Paul walked steadier than his trip to the table, but he did appear tired. Carissa could see the trembling in Paul’s arms as he held himself up on the walker. She couldn’t imagine what Paul’s story really was and with the absence of truth, imagination always filled in the blanks. Imagination was always colourful and fun, while the truth was usually boring. Paul made it to the bed, turned, and fell ass-first onto the side. Carissa watched as Paul managed to swing his legs up on the bed and pull the cover-up over them.

Carissa went back into the kitchen and cleared away the dishes from their lunch. Her mind wandered as she worked, imagining Paul as a mobster that had been hit, a government agent undercover and a half dozen other scenarios that played out in her fertile imagination. When everything was put away she went back to the recovery room and found him asleep. She knew he looked tired and she quietly picked up the book she had started reading when she first rescued her guest.

Her book didn’t hold her interest any more now than it did when she started it. It was more fun to think about Paul’s true story even if she didn’t know what that was. His memory loss seemed real enough, even if he had been a mobster, he wouldn’t remember it in the condition he was in now. The afternoon faded away quickly and the warm glow of sunset gave way to the dark shadows of nightfall. The desk lamp was the only illumination in the room where Carissa still held the book that she hadn’t turned a page on for over an hour.

She heard mumbles from her patient and then she heard him mumble, “No, no, please don’t, I don’t know what you want.” Carissa looked over in time to see Paul’s body shake just enough to wake him up.

She called over to him, “Are you okay?”

He answered, “I think so, I must have been dreaming. My heart is pounding so hard.”

Carissa asked, “Was the dream about what happened?”

Paul replied, “I think it may have been. I just remember flashes. I remember seeing a man holding a big- ass knife. I don’t remember the man, but I remember how big that knife was.”

Carissa responded, “Our attention is always drawn to the largest problem.”

Paul said, “I was pleading for him not to stab me. Evidently, I wasn’t very good at it.”

Carissa thought it was a good time to ask about what happened.

She asked, “Do you remember anything else that happened?”

Paul replied, “Sorry, I just can’t get passed that big knife. I guess it made an impression on me.”

Carissa responded, “It made an impression on you as well.” Paul managed a chuckle but the story his facial expression told was one laced with fear. She thought it must be a fear of the unknown, much like the fear she felt when her dad was shot.

After her dad was shot she always knew they might come after him again, especially since they were never caught. Carissa spent a lot of nights unable to fall asleep just thinking about someone breaking into the house to try again to kill her father. No one ever showed up, thankfully and her dad lived the rest of his life as her dependent.