Forget to Remember (2 page)

“Yes, Palos Verdes is in Los Angeles
County.”

“Thank you. I’m just trying to get
oriented.”

“I’m here to help you do that.”

Andrea shifted the only other chair in the
room so that the two chairs faced each other. She sat down. “It
would help if you could tell me your name.”

“I-I can’t remember. I told the policemen
that.”

“Yes, but that was yesterday. I was hoping
your memory might be coming back.”

“It hasn’t. The first time I looked in a
mirror, I didn’t recognize the person there. Of course, I’m covered
with bandages, and I’ve got all these cuts and bruises…”

“The doctor told me you’ll be fine. You were
apparently hit on the head with a blunt instrument—”

“Yeah, I have headaches and I’ve got holes
in my head—”

“Well, depressions. But they’ll heal. How
are your ant bites?”

“They put ointment on them to stop the
itching.” She smiled. “It could have been worse.”

“You can’t remember who attacked you, and
you seem to be a stranger to the Los Angeles area.”

“I can’t remember anything. I don’t know
where I live although, I’m quite sure it isn’t in California. I
don’t know who my parents or other relatives are. I don’t even
remember whether I’m married. I didn’t have a ring on my
finger.”

“According to the doctors, there’s no
evidence you’d been wearing a ring. Your attacker did a thorough
job. He didn’t leave anything behind that belonged to you.”

“Including my clothes. This hospital gown is
ugly and doesn’t cover anything.” She tried to pull the flimsy
cloth over her knees to demonstrate. “Those hunky paramedics who
brought me here came in to see how I was doing. I wish I looked
better for them.” They had seen her naked in the Dumpster—horrid
and icky naked, not sexy naked. She didn’t look that much better
now.

“The only things I was wearing were these
earrings.” She turned her head so Andrea could see the studs.

“They’re pretty. They look like silver.”

“I don’t know, but I’m not going to take
them off. It’s hard to explain, but they may be my good luck
charms.”

“We need to be able to call you
something.”

“I’ve been thinking about that. I think I’d
like to be called Carol Golden.”

“Any special reason?”

“Well, I was found at Golden Cove. And I
just like the sound of the name Carol.”

“Is there an ‘e’ on the end of Carol?”

“No ‘e’; just ‘c-a-r-o-l.’”

“Do you think Carol is your real name?”

“I have no idea.”

“At least it’s a starting point. Okay, Carol
Golden it is. I’ll try and get you some clothes. I don’t think mine
would fit you.”

“No.” Oops. She had said that too quickly,
with too much emphasis. “I mean, just in the short time I’ve been
here, I’ve lost weight. I don’t remember what I weighed before, but
they weighed me when they brought me in.”

“Getting fed intravenously will do that to
you. Maybe that’s what I need. Well, at least you’re eating now.
You shouldn’t lose any more weight. Let me ask you some questions
to see if you can associate with any place or have any other
memories.”

Andrea had a laptop computer with her. She
took Carol to a room where she was able to get an Internet
connection. They looked at maps of various parts of the country,
including many of the larger cities. When Carol showed an interest
in a place, Andrea went to Google Earth and they zoomed in for a
closer look.

Carol felt some affinity for the East Coast,
especially Massachusetts. They looked at pictures of the Boston
area, buildings and other landmarks, but those didn’t jog her
memory. Andrea finally said she had to go. They went back to
Carol’s room. Andrea gave Carol her card and told her to call if
she needed help or remembered anything.

Carol shook her hand. “Thank you for helping
me, Andrea. I really appreciate it, even though we didn’t have any
breakthroughs. Maybe you can help me do one other thing.”

“What’s that?”

“I’d like to talk to the man who found me…”
she consulted a newspaper article, “…Rigo Ramirez.”

“Oh, why?”

“To thank him.”

***

Rigo wasn’t a big fan of being inside
hospitals, but then who was? He was overcoming this reluctance,
partly because the young woman he had found asked to see him and
partly because he wanted to know how she was doing.

He left his old Toyota in the parking
structure and found his way in through the main entrance. Senior
ladies with recently styled coiffures sitting behind a counter in
the lobby promised information for the confused visitor. He gave
them a room number and one of them pointed toward the
elevators.

As he emerged at the designated floor, Rigo
had to admit the place exuded cheerfulness, from the pastel walls
to a nicely furnished waiting area. A nurse in uniform was talking
on the phone behind a counter and barely glanced at him as he
walked by. He found the room with no trouble. He stopped just
before the open doorway and took a deep breath.

He wondered how she would look. The initial
newspaper and TV accounts had given him some pictures and
information, but the news reports about her had slowed to a trickle
in the last couple of days. He had thought about coming to the
hospital but wasn’t sure he’d be welcome. Then Andrea had phoned
and told him Carol, as she was calling herself, wanted to see
him.

Getting up his courage, he walked to the
doorway and knocked on the door. She looked up from the chair she
was sitting in and smiled.

“You must be Rigo. Come in.”

Rigo smiled back. She didn’t look half as
bad as he thought she would. There were still a couple of small
bandages on her face. Her head had been shaved in several places,
and dressings applied to her wounds. However, her innate beauty
shone through. Her skin was a shade darker than his. She was
wearing a robe that was too large over her hospital gown.

Before he could say anything, she stood up
and gave him a bear hug. “My savior.”

Now Rigo was embarrassed. “I didn’t do
anything.”

“If you hadn’t found me, I’d be dead.”

Rigo wondered what would have happened to
her if he’d put the garbage in the other Dumpster. Or hadn’t seen
her and tossed the bag on top of her. Or what if she’d been placed
in the Dumpster on any other night except Saturday? Sunday was the
only day the restaurant opened before dinner. Confusing and
terrifying dreams disturbed his sleep.

She released him and motioned toward a
second chair. “Sit down, Rigo. I’m Carol, by the way. Carol
Golden.”

“Yeah, that’s what Andrea said.”

“Of course, that’s not my real name. I don’t
know my real name.”

This was awkward. Something welled up inside
Rigo, and he didn’t know what to say. “How do you feel?”

“Much better. Of course, anything would be
better than how you found me. Although I look a mess, my head and
face are healing. So are my bites and the bruises on my body. I
have one scar on my abdomen the doctor said is old.”

“Appendicitis?”

“The doctor said no. He said it looked as if
I’d been cut with a sharp object.”

Rigo was still having trouble finding words.
“When are you getting out of here?”

“Tomorrow.” Carol brightened, but then her
smile faded. “Tomorrow,” she repeated, more softly.

“Where will you go?”

“That’s the problem. I have nowhere to go. I
think they’re going to send me to a homeless shelter in Los Angeles
somewhere.”

“They…?”

“The people from Los Angeles County.” She
attempted another smile. “I’m still confused between Los Angeles
County and Los Angeles City.” She picked up a map sitting on the
table beside her. “One of the nurses was nice enough to give me
this map. It shows where everything is, including Torrance and
Palos Verdes. I think this shelter is about twenty miles from here.
Los Angeles is a big place.”

“So these people making the decisions work
for Los Angeles County?”

“Yes, most of them. Not the doctors and
nurses here, although the county may be paying for my care. I feel
a little guilty about that. But I’ve received great care. They
think I’m in my mid twenties. I even had a gynecological exam.”

Rigo must have made a face, because Carol
said, “Just be thankful you’re a man and don’t have to have them.
The doc said I’ve never had a baby. At least I don’t have to worry
that I’m deserting a child. He didn’t go so far as to say I’m a
virgin.” She looked mischievous. “I wouldn’t have believed him if
he had.”

Rigo decided he’d better not comment. “Who
have you talked to from Los Angeles County?”

“I’ve talked to Los Angeles County sheriff’s
deputies, a Los Angeles County social worker, a Los Angeles County
psychiatrist. He said he didn’t think I was crazy, by the way. Nice
of him. I just have amnesia. He didn’t know when I might get my
memory back.”

A young woman dressed in a light green top
and pants came bustling in. “Time to take your vitals, Carol.” She
started to take Carol’s blood pressure. Rigo got up, but she said,
“Sit still, sir. This’ll just take a minute.”

Blood pressure, pulse, temperature. Then she
left as fast as she had entered.

“It’s hard to get any sleep around here.”
Carol gestured toward the vanishing figure. “They do this all night
long. I’ll be glad to leave.”

What did she have to look forward to? “Can
you get a job?”

Carol shook her head. “This was explained to
me by Andrea, the social worker. I don’t have a birth certificate,
so I can’t get a Social Security card. Without a Social Security
card I can’t get a job. I also can’t get a driver’s license
although I’m sure I know how to drive. I can’t apply for any kind
of assistance. I think that as of tomorrow, Los Angeles County’s
going to wash its hands of me. Officially, as far as the county,
and I guess any state and the federal government, are concerned,
I’m a non-person.”

CHAPTER 3

That night Rigo worked late at the
restaurant. When he got home, he went to bed, too tired to even
watch TV. He awoke several hours later with an unease that was
close to panic. His heart raced like it did when he had a
nightmare. It took him a minute to figure out the cause.

It was Carol. She had said she was a
non-person as far as the government was concerned. The full meaning
of this hadn’t sunk in until he was asleep and dreaming. As a
non-person, it would be easy for her to disappear. If she did, he
would never find her. There would be no official record of her. He
had a lot of emotion invested in her, having found her almost dead,
and he wanted to make sure she was all right.

Having made a decision, he finally relaxed
and went back to sleep. Then he overslept. By the time he awoke,
his parents had gone to work at the business they owned. He jumped
out of bed and dressed. While he was eating a bowl of some sugary
cereal, he called his mother on his cell phone and spoke to her for
several minutes. Then he drove to the hospital.

Rigo walked into the hospital about ten. He
didn’t remember any signs concerning visitors’ hours. He went
rapidly past the reception area and straight to an elevator. Nobody
questioned him. He exited at Carol’s floor and walked to her room,
trying to look as if he belonged there.

Her room was empty, and the bed was made.
There was no sign anybody inhabited the room. Rigo’s panic started
to return. He accosted an orderly in the hall and asked where Carol
was. The young man said she’d left the hospital an hour ago. He
didn’t know where she had gone.

Rigo raced to the nurses’ station. The nurse
behind the counter was on the phone. He impatiently shifted his
weight from one foot to another, waiting for her to get off. After
what seemed like an eternity, she hung up and started writing
something. Rigo couldn’t wait any longer. He asked where Carol
Golden had gone.

The nurse, interrupted, looked up at Rigo.
When she didn’t answer immediately, he said, “The young woman in
room—”

“I know who you mean. The girl with amnesia.
She was taken to a shelter, I believe.”

“Where is it? What’s the address?”

“Are you a relative?” Apparently rethinking
that, “Are you—”

“A friend. I’m a friend.” When that didn’t
get an immediate response, he said, “I’m the one who found
her.”

She looked at him with new respect and
picked up the phone. She made a call and engaged in a brief
conversation about Carol while writing on a pad. She hung up, tore
off a sheet, and handed it to Rigo. “Here’s the address. Do you
know where it is?”

Rigo looked at it. “Downtown L.A.”

The nurse nodded. “If you’re going there, be
careful. She’s a nice girl. I hope she’ll be okay.”

“You and me both. Thanks.” Rigo headed
toward the elevator, clutching the piece of paper.

Once he was in his car, he headed east
toward the 110, aka the Harbor Freeway. He took it northbound.
After a few miles, the tall buildings began to materialize in the
distance, buildings he could see from his parents’ house on the
hill when the air was clear. He passed through some sections of the
city that were better avoided during daytime and more so at
night.

Traffic slowed near the intersection with
the I-10, as it always did. It was funny to think the I-10,
although it started only a few miles west of here at the Pacific
Ocean, could be taken east all the way to Florida. Sometimes Rigo
just wanted to get on it and drive.

He took the 4
^th
Street exit and
headed east to San Pedro Street, passing between skyscrapers that
loomed over him. Turning right at San Pedro Street, he looked for a
reasonably priced parking lot. In downtown L.A., the sky was the
limit as far as parking rates were concerned.

He glanced along 5
^th
Street as he
passed it, expecting to see tents, cardboard boxes, and blanket
rolls, just as he had when he visited this area on a field trip
with a college class, several years before. Unshaven men and
unkempt women had hung out or exchanged cigarettes for whatever
they needed, probably including drugs. Possessions had been stored
in supermarkets carts.