“Ithink he’s waking up. Hurry!” shouted a voice that sounded vaguely like Emily, my sister. The only difference was this one sounded eager, almost excited to see me, which meant it couldn’t possibly be her. Could it? I cracked open my eyes and found that surprisingly, it was. Before I could ask what planet I was on, Mom pounced into view.
“Hunter, sweetie, you are awake! How are you feeling? Are you all right?” Her voice was frantic; her eyes, blackened with tear-streaked mascara, searched my own for the answers. She brushed my shaggy blond hair out of my eyes and clutched tightly to one of my hands.
“Yeah, Mom, I’m fine. A little dizzy but….” My gaze shifted across an unfamiliar room. I was tucked in a slim bed with an oxygen mask strapped uncomfortably to my face. The walls were a horrid shade of drab pink and a small TV, tuned to the evening news, hung from the ceiling just over the foot of the bed.
“Where am I?” I asked.
“You’re in the hospital, honey. You were rushed here by ambulance about an hour ago, remember?”
“Ambulance?” I asked, searching my mind for any sliver of memory that matched her description. Nothing came up.
Keep in mind that I’ve never been good at waking up quickly. Even under normal circumstances, I have difficulty remembering basic things in the morning. But this wasn’t morning, and I wasn’t anywhere that I was supposed to be.
Strangely, I felt as though I had just awakened, like a bear, from a deep hibernation. I had absolutely no idea what day it was or how long I had been sleeping.
“What happened? Why am I here?”
“You were in a…” Emily started to say, but Mom jumped in over her with a stern look.
“The doctor said we shouldn’t tell you. He wants you to remember on your own.”
Sitting up, I closed my eyes and gave my head a good shake in hopes of clearing space for my absent memories to reappear. It didn’t work; all I got was a headache. My balance was off.
“You better lie down,” said Mom gently, noticing my unsteadiness. “The nurse should be here any minute.”
As if on cue, a nurse scurried into the room. She said nothing at all but went straight to work, checking my vitals in preparation for the doctor’s arrival, which came only a moment later. He was a rather stout man with thick black eyebrows and a mustache to match. His whiskers, as thick as a hairbrush, were the kind meant to be noticed first.
There was nothing tidy about the man. His tie hung loose, his collar was unbuttoned, and his face looked like it hadn’t been shaved in several days. In one hand he carried a clipboard of curled up, mismatched papers; in the other he held a tall cup of coffee, which he sipped mid-stride. The white jacket he wore was speckled with coffee stains, evidence that he wasn’t particularly good at multi-tasking.
He swished his most recent sip around in his mouth for a moment, wiggling his eyebrows up and down in delight before swallowing. When at last he arrived at my bedside, he set the cup down on a tray table and the mustache began to talk.
“Well now, if it isn’t our little sleeping beauty. How are you feeling, young sir?” he asked, extending his free hand in an awkward greeting. His voice was a bit crackly and low, but loaded with charisma and seemed friendly enough. I could tell he was the kind of guy that rarely slowed down, even without coffee. The night shift caffeine had clearly put him into overdrive.
“Fine, I guess,” I answered, accepting his firm handshake, which was much stronger than necessary.
“Good, good,” said the man. “I’m Dr. Trent by the way, but you can call me Dr. T. Everyone else does.”
I managed to catch a glimpse of the nurse, rolling her eyes as she moved toward the door. Clearly the nickname was one he had chosen for himself.
“So what’s your name, son?” he continued.
“You mean you don’t know my name?” I asked warily, a bit shocked that a doctor wouldn’t know such things about his patient.
“Don’t be silly. Of course I know your name. Says it right here on the chart. The question is, do you know it?”
“Hunter,” I said, deciding that he meant it as a test of my memory and not really a question after all. “My name is Hunter.”
“And is there a last name with that, Mr. Hunter?”
“Brown.”
“That’s the right answer, all right,” the doctor said with a satisfied smile. He pulled a pencil from behind his ear and marked something on his clipboard. “High-five!” he shouted, raising his hand for a celebratory slap. I obliged him, but couldn’t help but wonder if he treated all his patients like this during the night shift. His reaction was equally troubling.
“Whoa, easy there, kiddo. I need that hand for your surgery, you know.”
My jaw dropped. “Sur…surgery? Nobody said anything about any surgery.”
“Ha! Gotcha! Had you worried for a sec, didn’t I? No, no, no, you won’t need surgery; just checking to make sure you were listening. I can put a check in that box now too,” he said, marking the clipboard again. From where I sat I couldn’t see his paper, but I was willing to bet it was randomly placed. I hadn’t known Dr. T very long, but I knew enough to realize he was possibly off his rocker. After all, there’s a fine line between trying to have fun and complete insanity. I was beginning to think he had already crossed that line.
“Listen, Hunter, I’ve got a series of quick questions I’m going to shoot at you, and you’re going to give me your best answer, okay?”
I shrugged my shoulders and nodded.
“Okay then,” Dr. T said, clearing his throat and posing his first question in a serious tone. “What was the last thing you remember doing?”
“Slapping your hand,” I said. Somewhere in the corner of the room, Emily stifled a chuckle. The doctor stared blankly at his clipboard, blinking for a moment before catching on to the absurdity of the question.
“Right, of course. Touché,” he said. If he smiled at all, the mustache kept it well-hidden. “I meant the last thing you remember before coming to the hospital. Just close your eyes and blurt out the first thing you see. Anything will do. Go on!”
I closed my eyes and started imagining what it was that I had done earlier that night. All at once an image came to mind.
“The fair,” I nearly shouted. “We were at the fairgrounds.”
“Good, good! It’s a start. What happened at the fair?”
With my eyes still closed I recounted my evening for him exactly as I remembered it.
“I was waiting to meet up with my friends, Stretch and Stubbs, but they didn’t show. Trista came and invited me to hang out with her. That’s when we bumped into this new kid, Rob, who was being chased by Cranton.”
“So this Cranton was a friend of yours then?” the doctor asked.
“No, I don’t think he’s anyone’s friend, not really. He just likes to pick on people for the most part. Anyway, he started chasing all three of us. We were racing through the crowds, trying to get away, and had to hide behind a hay pile in one of the livestock barns. He almost found us but…but…something happened…I can’t remember what. We ended up running to the Sky Cars and the lights went out…and…we fell….”
“You fell? You mean you fell out of the Sky Car?” Dr. T asked.
“No, the whole Sky Car just fell off the cable. But…something happened and….”
“Yes, yes, go on, what happened next?” Dr. T asked, leaning forward in eager anticipation.
“We started to fly away. That’s the last thing I remember,” I explained, realizing how utterly absurd it sounded.
“Fly away?” both the doctor and Mom said at once.
“Yes, one minute we were falling and the next we were flying.”
“In the gondola?” the doctor asked.
“Yes, the whole thing just floated up into the air,” I answered.
“But where did it take you? And how?”
I didn’t know. Something had happened…something important, but I couldn’t recall exactly what it was. I knew it was there, but the answer lay hidden behind a black cloud. I opened my eyes.
“I don’t know…that’s where my memory ends,” I answered.
“Hunter, this isn’t the time for joking around!” Mom said sternly.
“I’m not, I swear it happened just like that. Ask Rob or Trista!”
The doctor held up a hand.
“It’s okay, Ms. Brown. In fact, it’s fairly common, considering the circumstances, to have his memory be…a bit sketchy. I have no doubt that what Hunter is telling us is truly what he sees.” With that he turned and asked, “I am curious though, if you had to guess, what time would you say this happened?”
“Around nine o’clock.”
“And you said this Rob kid was with you and the girl…uh…Trista?”
“Yeah, why?”
Dr. T didn’t answer at first; instead he jotted a few notes down on his clipboard before addressing me again.
“Son,” said the doctor at last, “I haven’t heard any reports of a Sky Car falling, but you were involved in a very serious accident—a fire to be exact. We just want to make sure that everyone else involved has been accounted for and treated. You’re very lucky to be alive.”
“But I don’t remember a fire at the fair,” I said, turning to my mom and Emily for reassurance that I wasn’t insane.
“No, sweetie, the fire was at your school,” Mom said, feeling free to speak of the incident now that the doctor had started the conversation.
“But I wasn’t at the school; I was at the fair. How come I don’t remember any of this?”
Mom looked to Dr. T, who did his best to explain. “Even though you didn’t sustain any major injuries, you likely inhaled a lot of toxic smoke. We don’t know for sure yet, but I believe there were a substantial amount of chemicals mixed in the flames. It’s the most likely reason your memory isn’t completely…shall we say…intact. But don’t worry; your memory will be replaced in time. For now, however, you’ll just….”
“Replaced? Don’t you mean returned?”
“Yes, that’s what I said; it will return in time.”
It wasn’t what he said and I knew it, but there was no point in arguing with him about it now. It would only prolong his visit…and my confusion.
“Other than your temporary memory loss, I’d say you’re a pretty healthy boy. Still, I’d like to keep you overnight for observation. We’ll have you out of here by noon tomorrow. Sound good?”
“Yes,” I answered, still trying to remember anything about a fire.
Mom was smiling, clearly happy to hear that everything was going to be fine. The doctor gathered up his coffee and headed for the door. Before he left the room, he motioned for Mom to come near and whispered something to her. Whatever he said caused her face to lose its glow.
“What was that about?” I asked after he was gone.
“It was nothing. The doctor just wants me to keep an eye on you, that’s all,” Mom said. I could tell she was lying, trying to protect me from something. But what?
“Oh hey, look,” Emily interrupted, gesturing toward the television, which had been left on in the background. “The school fire made the news!”
She pointed the remote toward the TV and raised the volume.
We quickly turned our attention to the broadcast as a smartly dressed field reporter gave the update, live from the scene. In the background floodlights lit up the now blackened south wall of Destiny Hills High School. A ladder hose continued to douse the building in a preventative stream of water.
The story focused on what few facts they had. The school had been broken into after hours by what appeared to be more than one vandal. At precisely 10:48 p.m. emergency crews were alerted by a 911-call that a fire was spreading through the south wing of the school. At least two teens escaped the scene and were taken to a local hospital where they were being treated for minor injuries. Another person of interest was being held for questioning at the police station; no names were being released. Whether the fire was an arson attempt or childish prank gone wrong had yet to be determined.
At this point, the report cut away to a previously filmed interview with the lead detective on the case, Arthur Vogler. The intimidating, bald, African-American man wore his mirrored sunglasses throughout the interview. I wondered what he had to hide.
“I can assure you that the Destiny Hills Police Department is treating this investigation with the utmost seriousness. It is a crime against our school and our community and we intend to make sure that everyone involved in this reprehensible act is brought to justice.”
I had a sudden cold feeling at the back of my neck as Detective Vogler ended his interview. He almost seemed to be glaring straight through the camera and into my soul. I wouldn’t call the feeling fear, exactly, but it wasn’t a pleasant feeling at all. I knew for certain that I was one of the teens that would soon be meeting this giant.
Mom gripped my hand tightly. Emily’s eyes darted to my face, and then quickly away. They knew something.
“Well, that’s enough of that for one night,” said Mom. Emily was already a step ahead of her, pointing the remote at the screen and killing the broadcast before it finished.
“He’s coming here, isn’t he?” I asked Mom nervously.
“Who’s coming?”
“Vogler. You know, the detective on the news.”
Mom was never good at keeping secrets. She looked down and nodded slightly. I could tell she was bothered by it too, perhaps even more than I was. After all, she had no way of knowing if I was to blame for the fire or not. Come to think of it, neither did I.
“He’ll be here first thing in the morning,” she answered, an awkward pause filling the room before she continued. “The doctor recommended they put it off until after your memory returned, but he said Vogler was very persistent. He wanted to meet you as soon as possible despite your condition. I’m sure it will be nothing, just a simple introduction to get to know you.”
“Right, he looks like the type who could use another friend,” I said with a smirk.
Mom frowned at the remark, but held her tongue. I could tell she wanted to scold me for it, but this was neither the time nor the place.
“Just promise me you’ll be on your best behavior when he does come,” she said at last. “No goofing off. The last thing we need is to give them further reason to suspect you. After all, it’s not like you’ve had the perfect record at school lately. It would be easy to…” Mom stopped short, not wanting to complete the thought out loud.
“Don’t worry, Mom,” I replied. “I might not remember what happened, but I wouldn’t set the school on fire. You know that, right?”
Mom nodded. “I know that and you know that but it’s them I’m afraid of. I only hope someone else can shed some light on what happened.”
Mom was right, of course. Since I had no memory of what actually happened, the detective would be relying primarily on the testimony of the others involved in the incident, which made me wonder.
“Who else was there?” I asked.
“Just Trista…” Emily answered. Trista was good. She was a friend. But then Emily finished her sentence. “…and Cranton.”
“Cranton!” I shouted, catching the attention of the nurses in the hallway.
“Hunter, not so loud,” Mom hushed. I tried to keep my cool, but this was not good news.
“You don’t understand. Cranton hates me. He takes pride in inventing new ways to pick on guys like me.” My stomach sank. There was no way Cranton would take the fall for something he could pin on someone else…especially with the possibility of juvenile detention at stake. For all I knew, Cranton had planned the whole thing to begin with. It was probably his twisted way of getting even with me for the prank I’d pulled on him the previous year.
In an effort to calm my anxiety, Mom leaned over and planted a gentle kiss on my forehead.
“Hey, weren’t you the one who just told me not to worry?” she said. “Look, I’m sure everything is going to be fine. We all just need to get some rest and let the morning worry about itself.”
“I wish Dad could be here,” I said, almost unintentionally. It had been a long time since I had risked broaching the subject of Dad. So much went unsaid between Mom and me lately. With the busyness of her schedule, trying to play the role of both mother and father, she carried a lot of stress on her shoulders. We kids knew this and we knew our role was not to burden her with questions that would add more stress than necessary. Even now as I said it, I could tell the words had re-opened a deep wound. Her smile faded and a fresh set of tears pooled in her eyes.
“I know, Hunter,” she sighed. “Sometimes I do too. We all miss him, but we have to accept that he’s…he’s just gone. We’re on our own now. You’re my main man, right?” She messed up my moppy blond hair a bit in a playful attempt to lighten the mood. I nodded back, silently agreeing that we would once again avoid the subject.
With that she stood up and moved toward the door. Emily followed.
“Mom,” I called out before the door closed.
“Yes,” she answered, turning toward me once more.
“I love you.” It was another one of the things we had not said lately.
“I love you too, Hunter. Try and get some sleep. Visiting hours start at eight, and I promise I’ll be the first one in line,” said Mom, closing the door behind her.
But I couldn’t sleep. Not with so many unanswered questions swirling through my mind. I wanted desperately to know what I had forgotten, but there were too many missing pieces, too many lost memories.
The more I thought about it, the more I became convinced that something had happened at the fair, right after the gondola fell. Something important. Something big.