Shadow of Doubt: Part 2 (13 page)

“Go—od even—ing.” Aaron’s voice
cracked as he tried to talk.

The doctor held his hand up. “You
don’t need to try and speak. The nurse just informed me some of
your vitals changed, and I came to see if you were awake. I’m sure
your throat feels quite dry and unused. You’ve been out for almost
six days. Take your time.”

Six days?! Aaron tried to sit up. He
groaned as the room swam around him. He fell back onto the pillow
and shut his eyes tight, focusing on the stars dancing behind his
eyelids.

“Take it easy, young man. You’ve got
some bad cuts, a few broken ribs, and one nasty concussion. You’re
pretty bruised up, but the good news is you’re going to be fine.
I’d like to run some tests later tonight or tomorrow. We’ll see how
strong you feel. You’ve been on a liquid diet since we found you.”
He pointed to Aaron’s arm. “Still on IV, so if eating seems too
exhausting, that’s alright.”

Aaron observed but said nothing. The
doctor leaned over and checked his chest with the stethoscope. He
stepped around to the foot of the bed and read over the information
on a chart, adding some marks of his own.

The doctor kept up his friendly,
informative banter. “It seems you’re a bit of a mystery. We know
your name only because you said it before you passed out. We’ve
been unable to get any other information from our records, and you
didn’t have much on you. Think you can fill me in?”

He sat, wide-eyed and shocked. It was
terrifying, but no matter how hard he tried to come up with
something, his mind stayed blank. His breath shortened as he
struggled not to panic. “I don’t know…anything,” he
whispered.

The doctor patted his arm. “Don’t
worry. You’ve just woken up. You took quite a bump to the head.
Once most of the swelling subsides, your memory should come back.
We know your name is Aaron Buss.” He tilted his head, waiting to
see if the name rang a bell. “No? It’s alright. We’re pretty sure
this is short-term memory loss. Things will come back. You’re safe
here. I’ll get the nurse to bring you some soup. Get lots of rest.
It’ll allow your body to heal faster.” He nodded as he turned to
go.

“Doctor? What day is it
today?”

“It’s Friday, March
thirteenth.”

“Thank you.” Aaron didn’t think he was
a superstitious guy, but he had the feeling he’d never had much
luck with Friday the thirteenth. Exhausted, he closed his eyes. He
felt like he had a lifetime of sleep to catch up on.

Later, when he woke in complete
darkness, Aaron had the feeling he’d been having a nightmare but
couldn’t remember any of it. His chest felt tight, but he used the
excuse that the tightly wrapped bandages created the sensation. He
dropped his head back on the pillow and let his cheek rest against
its coolness. He was startled to see someone sitting in the chair
beside his bed. The sudden jolt from shock made his body ache
everywhere. He shut his eyes, trying to focus on anything but the
pain.

“Do I know you?” He slowly let his
lids flutter open and looked at the gentleman sitting quietly in
the shadows. The man wore an expensive suit, the grey matching his
eyes. His whitish hair styled to perfection.

“No, I don’t think you do any more. My
name is Janus.” The older gentleman tilted his head slightly and
smiled. “Erebus.” He shook his head. “Sorry, Aaron Buss. I always
knew you were different, that you didn’t want to live like the rest
of us. I realized this day would eventually come. A part of me is
pleased, but a part of me will miss you very much.” He stood and
walked towards the bed.

Aaron said nothing. He didn’t know
what to say or what the old man was talking about.

“Here is your information. Your birth
certificate, social security number, and bank account information.
It’s all in the folder. I was more generous with you than with any
of the others I’ve ever helped. You deserve that, in my opinion.
I’ll put everything in the drawer of the nightstand.” He paused
before reaching to pat Aaron’s hand. “Last bits of advice from your
old handler: don’t go looking into the past now. Focus on what’s
ahead. Have a good life, Aaron Buss. Enjoy every minute of it.
Remember this as well: ‘None of us can choose our destiny and none
of us can stop it.’ Say that if you ever feel confused.” He let go
of his hand and walked out of the room without looking
back.

Aaron lay on the bed, dumbfounded. He
felt like he should be screaming at the stranger to come back. He
didn’t know what to do. He had no idea who the man was, but he
knew, without a shadow of a doubt, he’d never see the guy
again.

It seemed his only link to the past
had just walked out the door.

A few days later, Aaron could finally
pull himself into a sitting position. The sun had just risen, and
he’d awoken from a pleasant dream. He couldn’t recall the dream,
but he knew it must have been a good one. He’d woken up with a
smile on his face and angels on his mind.

When he opened his eyes, the cream
brick tiles reminded him where he lay. Frustrated he still couldn’t
remember anything from before the accident, he pulled hard at the
bed sheets, knocking his pillow to the floor.

He swore under his breath, glad none
of the nurses had been in yet. They made him uncomfortable with the
pity he read in their eyes and their constant care. He wanted out.
Taking a deep breath, he pressed one hand against his broken ribs
and gingerly leaned forward. After three attempts, he finally
managed to get a hold of his pillow with two fingers.

He glanced up, his eyes level with the
nightstand, as he jerked the pillow up to the bed. He stared at the
stand, noticing a sheet of paper sticking out of the drawer.
Curious, he dropped the pillow on his lap and pulled open the
drawer.

Inside laid the file and information
the old gentleman had dropped off. Aaron couldn’t recall his name,
only that he didn’t understand what the man had wanted. He placed
the folder on the pillow and opened it. Inside he found his birth
certificate, social security card, a bank book, and some more
papers.

He opened the bank book and almost
dropped it when he saw the single entry. It was a balance inquiry
that showed one dollar less than ten thousand dollars. There was
also a key and number to a safe deposit box. With shaking hands, he
turned to the other papers inside the folder. There was a deed to a
studio flat in his name, along with an auction receipt for an old
British telephone. The photo on the auction receipt showed one of
those old, red enamel painted pay phones, purchased from an auction
house in New York City.

What am I going to do with
that?

“Good morning, Aaron. You’re up early
again today.” A young blonde nurse set a vase of sunflowers on the
nightstand beside him. The flowers or the nurse seemed to ring a
bell somewhere in the back of his mind, but he couldn’t put the
connection together.

“The guy in the next room left these
when he checked out. I thought you might like them. It seemed a
shame to throw them out.” The nurse rambled on about the weather
and how ready she was for spring to hurry into summer.

Aaron closed the folder and slipped it
underneath his pillow. The nurse didn’t even notice. She walked
over to the window and opened the blinds. Then she came back and
checked his stats. Satisfied, she nipped out the door and brought
in a meal tray. She set the tray of food on the dining cart beside
Aaron’s bed.

“Enjoy your breakfast.” She left the
room.

Aaron could smell the aromas from
underneath the metal lids. Slowly, he swung his legs over the side
of the bed and pulled the tray towards him. His mouth watered at
the smell of sausage and scrambled eggs. He stabbed a sausage and
stuffed it into his mouth.

“I don’t think I’ve seen anyone enjoy
hospital food as much as you.” His doctor appeared in the doorway,
laughing.

“The food’s great here. I feel like I
haven’t eaten in years.” Aaron replied between
mouthfuls.

“I’m glad someone likes it! Keep
eating.” The doctor held up his hand. “I’m just checking in. I’m
pleased with your progress physically. I wish your memory would
come back. The swelling’s gone down but for some reason, parts of
your memory won’t click back. I’ve run you through every CAT scan
and test we can. I’m afraid I don’t know what to tell you at the
moment.”

Aaron watched the doctor. Dr. Apate
almost sounded like he was teasing him – like he knew something
Aaron didn’t. He didn’t get it but it was probably just him being
paranoid. “I’m okay right now, Doc. I’d really like to go
home.”

“That’s great, but you, nor I, know
where your home is.”

“I’ve got a studio pad on Lake
Street.” He couldn’t remember the exact number but had no intention
of pulling the folder out in front of the doctor.

“You’re joking?” The doctor’s eyes
went wide with surprise. “You remembered that this
morning?”

Aaron thought his doctor might start
doing cartwheels.

“Yeah. Just woke up and remembered
it.” He grinned. A little lying might get him out of the hospital
quicker.

“You remember anything
else?”

“Uh, yeah, a little bit, actually.”
Aaron scratched his head trying to think of something else. “I just
purchased an antique pay phone – you know, one of those old red
ones from England?”

“A K-One or K-Six?” The doctor laughed
when he saw Aaron’s face. “My father emigrated from Britain and
owned a pub in Liverpool. He always said he was going to buy one
and ship it over here. He wanted one of those old, red post boxes
as well.” He grabbed Aaron’s chart and jotted a few notes. “This is
very good. I’m pleased to hear you’re remembering a few things.
I’ll come by again this afternoon and run a few last tests. If
things continue, you’ll be getting out of here shortly.”

He spent the day memorizing more
information from the folder. When the doctor returned during his
evening rounds, he questioned Aaron over dinner.

“Remember anything else?”

“A little bit. It’s like I pinned a
tiny hole in a water balloon. It hasn’t popped but little bits a
water keep streaming out. I know I was born October thirty-first
and turned twenty-four on my last birthday. Though I must admit,
after the past two weeks, I feel a lot older.” He laughed. It was
strange, but he always felt more relaxed when evening rolled
around. “Oh, and I wrote down my Social Security Number. I
remembered it this afternoon but got paranoid I might forget it.
Don’t want you to think I’ll be trying to skip out on my
bill.”

The doctor laughed, absently waving a
hand. “You’re bills already paid. No worries there.”

“Pardon me?”

“Some anonymous donation, shortly
after your accident. You needn’t worry about that. Seems the
donation will also cover a new CAT scan machine for the
hospital.”

“Who paid it?”

“Don’t know. Someone called in one
day, said they’d heard about your accident and wanted to help you
out. Be thankful. I sure am! This hospital could use a few more men
like that.”

Aaron sat bewildered. He thought about
the distinguished gentleman who’d dropped his information off. What
had the guy said, “Leave the past alone” or something about not
choosing our destiny?

The doctor rose from the chair. “I’ve
got to finish my rounds. I’ll be in again tomorrow morning to see
how things are going. You’re doing well physically. I don’t see why
we won’t be able to release you by Monday or Tuesday. If you’re
ready to go home, that is.” He flashed Aaron a sly
smile.

“Definitely ready.”
Funny. I like that word: definitely. It rolls off
the tongue so smoothly.

Chapter 12

New Beginnings

A nervous wreck inside, Aaron took a
taxi to his studio apartment. The streets seemed vaguely familiar,
but the building brought no memories. He’d hoped something would
miraculously click in his head, but nothing did. He sighed as he
paid the driver, making sure to leave him a decent tip.

Aaron closed his eyes and took a deep
breath as he stepped into the building lobby. Exhaling, he blinked
and tried to adjust to the dim light before gazing around. The
lobby appeared to have been built in the 1920s. The lovely marble
floor looked freshly polished. An old, cast-iron elevator, with an
antique tin “out of order” sign chained in front, stood near the
winding dark-stained oak staircase. The vintage brass mailboxes on
the far end were modernized with keypad codes.

Walking over to the boxes, he read A.
Buss on the third box. He tapped an odd rhythm on his lower lip,
trying to think of a possible code. Maybe his birthday – 1031. He
blinked when the box door opened. He was slightly disappointed, but
for some reason not surprised to see it empty. Closing it, he
turned and headed up the stairs.

The second floor only had one door, as
did the third and fourth floors, which meant one apartment per
floor. The deed listed that he lived on the fifth floor, the top
one. He reached it, remembering the only key he had was for the
safe deposit box he’d been to and found stacks and stacks of money
inside. In order to open this door, he had to punch in another code
to the keyless entry.