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Walt
It’sbeenanexciting day and I think it’s making me tired. I’m happy to have found my family and be able to fill in the blanks, but it’s also a reminder of what I don’t remember. I listen to my… our son as he tells me about stuff I wouldn’t know even if I had my memories. He mentioned his girlfriend by name and judging by the way he paused and looked at me, I’m assuming I’m supposed to know her. For some reason, that name brings me back to when I first got to town. I tap the table and ask a question that’s been in my head for the last hour.
“Question. On the way in, I felt the need to stop by another house. I saw a black girl around your age with braids get into a Toyota. I don’t know if I fully recognized her, but I feel like I’ve seen her with bigger hair… puffy hair.”
Rowe smiles like his world is weightless and free of all evil.
“That’s her. Met her when you lived in Houston.”
I look over at Whit. “I lived in Houston?”
He nods as he grabs cups to get us all drinks. We’re all sitting on barstools. “To avoid the Pink Cloud. Plus, you were interested in investing in an oil and gas company.”
None of it jogs my memory. I just shake my head. “I’m sorry.”
Whit returns with the drinks and puts them down so he can rub my shoulder. “ Don’t be sorry.
It’s a work in progress. We don’t have an expectation on your memories. They’ll return as you’re ready. We’re just glad you’re alive.”
Rowe nods, and I can see the emotions in his eyes. He and I have stuff to work out, but I don’t have answers. I know he’s happy right now, but he’ll need more eventually.
Still, seeing a kid looking similar to us in the prom pictures I’ve just seen again is amazing. Especially since I had something to do with it. I am doing my best to not stare at him when Shortstack starts asking about a hotel.
It alerts me, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I don’t know why, but finding out that she was attacked doesn’t sit well with me. I hope I wasn’t an overbearing or chauvinistic asshole, but there’s something about the runt that makes me want to protect her.
Her jumpiness amused me until Tucker told me why she’s here. Now, I don’t think I can let her out of my sight. She doesn’t like eye contact, but it didn’t stop her from glaring at me when I denied her hotel request. Maybe the little one has more backbone than she thinks.
A woman calls for Whit just as Rowe disappears upstairs and I’m pretty sure Whit flinches. It seems like an odd reaction for him to be greeted by his girlfriend. She finally finds us, her locs flow around her body, falling near her elbow. She smiles serenely when she spots him. I get a warm feeling inside because I feel like I’ve always wanted him to have someone look at him the way she does.
She glances my way, then does a shocked double take. She stares at me with her mouth open for a beat, then she closes it, only to open it again. The staring makes me uncomfortable and I run my fingers through my hair and pull it into a low ponytail just to have something to do.
When our eyes meet again, hers expresses a million things I cannot comprehend. The room is quiet while everyone watches our interaction. I get the feeling that this moment is supposed to somehow be significant.
Nothing. There aren’t any flashes of memory or things I can grasp. I just see a pretty woman looking at me like she’s seen a ghost. Then again, I guess I am like a ghost to them. Breaking the silence, I step forward and extend my hand.
“Hello, you must be Whit’s girlfriend. I’m Walt. Nice to meet you.” i look at whit who’s still rooted in place. “She’s very pretty. Congratulations.”
She looks around, confused, like it must be a joke. I get that I must have met her before, but an introductory greeting is all I have for her. Maybe something will hit me later, but not now. Timidly, she shakes my hand.
“Um… I know who you are,” she explains as she stares at me. I don’t know what she expects to find looking me in the eye, but it’s not there.
She lets me go and her eyes land on the little cupcake who’s looking everywhere but at us. Then she settles on Tucker.
“This is my therapist and friend, Tucker.”
She shakes his hand at the introduction and offers her name. Moonlight. Moonlight. Moonlight? The name feels familiar, but I can’t make the connection. Tucker looks at me, silently checking if I want him to explain anything to her. I give a slight shrug because I don’t mind. I’m trying to reenter my old life. There will be uncomfortable moments along the way, according to Tuck.
“Moonlight, Walt was found badly beaten and wet on the outskirts of my property. I was notified, and he was in a coma by the time I arrived. We moved him to private care, where he remained in that coma for a long time. He had no recollection of what happened or who he was when he’d awakened. It took almost a year for him to remember his first name. Just yesterday, he remembered his brother’s name.”
“We didn’t announce him being alive because it was obvious someone wanted him dead.”
“And we didn’t put out a missing person notice because we thought he was dead.” Whit looks up at me with sad eyes. “There was so much blood left behind that the investigators didn’t think you’d survive wherever you fell.”
I shake my head. Such a traumatic experience. I keep hearing about how my head was bashed in and my face was so bruised that it took months to see my features. The damage was there. I just don’t know why. What did I do to make someone hate me so much? I want the truth, but my brain isn’t cooperating.
My body heats like it does when my frustration tries to take over. Usually, I’d beat the shit out of something, but I don’t want my family to think the old me has been replaced with a raging, bloodthirsty monster. I already feel like a stranger in what’s supposed to be my life. I get that feeling again, the one that makes me want to rip off my skin, yell, and cry at the same time.
I need some time alone; maybe the feeling can subside. Tucker, who noticed the changing in my breathing, looks at me to assess my mood. I don’t return the look. I feel like I’ll snap if I make eye contact with anyone.
“How about some air, yes?”
I retreat after a curt nod, but move in the wrong direction. A growl rumbles low in my throat when I change course. I grit my teeth and clench my fist as I power walk towards the door.
“Walt…” Whit starts, but I’m already in my fog.
“Let him go,” Tucker cautions. “He…”
I don’t hear what he says to Whit because I’m already outside gulping air and wondering what the fuck I’m going to do to fix it.
