“Ma’am, we need you to keep still, please,” a woman said, taking my hand in hers. She was wearing a glove and I craved the reassuring warmth of Noah’s hand.
“I’m Dr. Bennett.” A man shone a light in my eyes. “Pupils equal and responsive,” he said to someone over his shoulder. “I’m a neurologist. Can you tell me what your name is?”
“I think my name is Jane Doe.”
The man looked at me for a while, an expression on his face I couldn’t read. “And do you know what happened to you? Why you’re in the hospital?”
“No.”
“Can you tell me what day of the week it is?” he asked.
“It’s . . . uh . . .” I bit my lip to stop the tears.
“Don’t worry.” His voice was extra calm and slow now. “Do you know what city we’re in?”
“Yes, I think so. Johannesburg.”
“Very good. And who is the president?”
“Uh . . .” I scanned my memory again. I felt like I knew this too. Words began echoing in the deepest, darkest, most distant places in my mind and I concentrated hard, trying to listen to them. “CYRIL! Cyril Ramaphosa!” I shouted when the answer finally came to me.
The doctor smiled and I felt an instant bolt of relief. “Excellent. We’re going to take you down for an X-ray and a CT scan to see what’s going on in your brain.”
“Did you know that the X-ray was discovered accidentally by Wilhelm Roentgen in 1895?” I heard myself say, and then everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at me. I waited for someone to say something, but no one did. Instead, the doctor pulled his gloves off and exited the room. I wanted to yell not to leave me alone, and almost did, but then I felt a hand on my arm.
“It’s okay, I’m here.” I strained my eyes, looking as far left as I could to see who was talking to me.
A smiling face met mine. “I’m Ntethelelo. I’ll be taking care of you. So, you mustn’t worry, you’re safe!”
But I didn’tfeelsafe.How did I know who the president was, and about X-rays, but not my own name?
“I’m going to take you to CT and X-ray now,” Ntethelelo said sweetly. And then, I was on the move again, being pushed down a long corridor. We arrived at an elevator and, for some reason, it filled me with absolute terror. Ntethelelo pressed the button and we waited for the doors to open. I watched the numbers lighting up as the elevator moved, a sense of impending doom growing inside me as the numbers came closer and closer. I heard a familiar voice and turned. It was Noah. He looked relaxed, leaning against a wall with his phone pressed to his ear. I squinted against the bright light coming from the long railway track of fluorescent bulbs running the length of the corridor.
“Sorry, I was meant to be off today, but I’m not now. You can deliver it tomorrow, if that’s okay?” Noah said into his phone. “Yes. Noah Robinson. 19C Edward Drive, Parkmeadows.”
Ding!The elevator doors opened and something inside me just snapped. “No! No!” I shouted as I stared into the terrifying empty space behind the open doors.
Ntethelelo put her hands on the side of my face. “You mustn’t move your head, darling.” She brought her face right up to mine, looking me directly in the eye.
“NO! I can’t . . . You mustn’t . . . STOOOOP!” I was shocked at the sounds coming out of my mouth; guttural and desperate-sounding. They cut through the air like a sword and made everything around me feel like it was shaking.
“Doctor!” Ntethelelo called out, and soon, someone else was there. And then someone else. Flashes of white coats and arms and a sharp, shiny needle catching the light and then a pain in my arm, a sting, a burn and then . . .
“Hi, it’s me, do you remember?” A gentle hand, a friendly voice and those blue eyes.
“Noah!” I whispered, feeling like warm water was flowing through my veins.
“That’s right. You must try and keep still, remember?”
Our eyes locked, the blueness drawing me in like calm waters.
“Deep breaths.” He inhaled deeply and I copied him.
“Great!” Ntethelelo spoke this time.
“Great,” I echoed, my voice sounding more and more like liquid as I talked. “The animals went in two by two by two . . .”
I think I heard a chuckle before it all went dark again.
