Page 10 of Forgotten
“I’d rather- I want to try the bathroom.”
Lindsey the nurse chuckles. “We’ll save potty training for tomorrow, Ford. Today we will see how you are managing your standing.” Turning to Ash, she keeps talking to him. “Doctor Parker has been rather concerned about his levels of alertness. At times he seems quite responsive but will have no recollection of it a couple of hours later. Doctor Taylor from Ortho did not give us clearance either.”
Ash hums in agreement but says nothing.
“I can sit up on my own.” I try to argue, reminding the room that I am, in fact, fully alert and responsive as we speak.
“That you can. You’re becoming an expert at dangling your legs off the bed.” Lindsey the nurse smilesat me but she’s unmovable: no trips to the bathroom yet, at least for the next few days.
I hate it, and when Ash offers to help, I chase him out of the hospital room. “Boundaries, my friend,” I tell him and I pretend that he doesn’t look hurt, nor jealous when I end up accepting the help of the nurse. With eachpassing day, I become more aware of just how deep my relationship with Ashley is in 2024.
When my dad comes to visit the second time, his hug with Ash is longer—a little weirder. It’s early afternoon and I am particularly drowsy, not in the usual car accident way, but in a delightful the-weed-hit-the-right-spot way. Nevertheless, I can follow their conversation much better this time.
My dad asks Ash, “And he forgot everything?”
I keep my eyes closed, my body perfectly still.
“Yeah. Greg, I don’t know what to say.”
In my entire life I have never heard Ash call my dad ‘Greg’ and I find myself being more alert after that.
“I thought he was dead. After the accident, I thought I’d have to… But he wasn’t. If possible, it was worse. They took him for all those surgeries and then he didn’t… There was a tube coming from his mouth, and a loud machine, like a ventilator. It looked so unnatural, he looked so weak. And all those beeping, all those lights…” Ash trails off and a desperate sob leaves his lips. “He was so awfully still. I just wanted to yank everything off and hold him.”
It’s odd. All of this is.
When my mother drops by, worried and frenetic as ever, she holds Ash’s hand the whole time. They talk about family and the meaning of it and it makes no sense. I pretend I’m not in the room with them.
When Ash’s brothers show up, they all wish him the best of luck in a strangely affectionate way. I wonder if I had ever been able to tell Martin and Edwin apart butthis time I just blame it on the amnesia. When a group of friends come to visit, they all ask Ashley how he is doing first. I can barely remember their names.
And finally, when a woman I cannot recognise knocks at my hospital door holding a children’s drawing, Ash gets so emotional he has to excuse himself from theroom.
It makes me want to scream.
I am the one who does not remember two years of my fucking life. I am the one with the stubborn headache; the cast around my arm; the legs that shake even when I bend them at the knee. Me, the one who cannot use the bathroom without help. Me, whose hair is like a bird nest of various different lengths from where the doctors had to shave it off. Me, who has no idea what I’m doing in 2024 and how I got here. I keep waiting for the urge to drink the sorrows away.
Everyone brings flowers and kind words and best wishes but none of them stay. Only Ashley stays. Most nights, he sleeps by my hospital bed, holds my hand and he stares at me. He doesn’t say much, and even if we’ve never needed many words to communicate, I miss the sound of his voice; the endless stream of conversation. I miss the life he used to radiate.
???
After the catheter is gone, my progress is faster. Determined to feel like a human again, I beg Lindsey the nurse to help me change out of the hospital gown into a matching pair of soft sweats that someone must havedropped off for me. Though I don’t recognise them as mine, the colour is a dead giveaway. I have been committed to the all-black look since finishing university.
Doctor Taylor visits me with a physiotherapist. The visit is long and draining, but in the end, Doctor Taylor blesses me with his clearance: I’m promised I can ditch the commode chair once I’m able to support my weight for five minutes straight. I accept the challenge, and the therapist instructs me to stand up a couple of minutes every few hours at first, holding myself on the bed.
The next day when Ash arrives at the hospital, I’m actually standing. The good arm on the bed frame, the one in the cast balancing my weight and I’m standing on my own. I can’t help but smile, feeling like Neil Armstrong must have felt when he first set foot on the moon. Well, not quite, actually. Right here, I’m feeling gravity quite heavily and mourning the muscles I lost since the accident.
“Check this out!” I tell Ash a little out of breath. He beams at me in response and there is real pride written all over his face—real happiness.
Ash simply stands there in silence and just like every day, he studies me as if he cannot believe how lucky he is that I am alive, in the same room as him. He watches me in reverence and fascination but I have no idea why. We were in an accident and I still cannot remember anything.
“Good job,” Ash says and when I meet his gaze, I’m not in my hospital room anymore.
There’s blood spilling down Ash’s white skin, a deep cut on his forehead. Shards of glass are stuck into his chin and the pain in my right arm is unbearable. My head is spinning, the sound of screeching metal rings in my ears. The image of a red truck flashes before my eyes and I start to fear my legs won’t hold me up much longer. Ash walks up to me quickly, stumbling on his feet, pale as a ghost.
This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have been standing for so long.
Grabbing my side with a strong arm, Ash helps me back on the bed, pushing one leg after the other on the mattress.A red truck.As Ash leans into me, I grab a hold of his t-shirt and stare into his blue eyes.
Gone is the encouraging best friend. In its place, this Ashley is sweaty and holding onto me like his life depends on it. I forgot how tall he was—how skinny. For the first time since I woke up, I remember that he is made of flesh. I hold tighter onto him, hoping to dig out the Ash I have grown up with from this corpse-like version of him.
