Brothers Keep Her

Simple Man

***FIVE MONTHS LATER***

You glance down at your watch. I have to leave in five minutes, you tell yourself. It's your first day at your new job and you don't want to be late.

Knock-knock. Your mom pokes her head in and smiles. "Hey, sweetie. Are you ready?" Your parents decided you'd move back in with them for a while until you got back on your feet, after you showed up in a hospital in Seattle, Washington. They'd thought you were dead, never expecting to see you alive again. Your mom acts like she'll never let you go, and your dad is the buffer who keeps her from smothering you.

The official reports state you were brought in to the ER unconscious on January 24th by a John Doe in a tan trench coat with dark hair, and your heart rate was dangerously low. In the mad rush to stabilize you and save your life, the man disappeared before anyone could get his name. Or yours. You lay in a coma for several weeks with no identity until the day you finally woke up.

You nod and take a deep breath. "I think so."

"You're going to do great. This is the perfect job for you," she assures you, stepping into your room, looking at you like you're twelve years old again, getting ready to go on stage for your first piano recital.

Your room is the same. Being in it feels like you've stepped backwards in time. The fluffy white down comforter is as soft as ever. The purple and blue crocheted blanket your grandmother made for you when you were born still sits on the end of your bed, surprisingly resilient after all these years. The photos of you and your friends are still wedged into the frame of the mirror above your dresser. Even the picture of you and Jonah that you added when you were home for Christmas your sophomore year is there. Everything is just as it was before you left for college... but you still have no idea what happened after that. The doctors told your parents it's not uncommon to suffer from amnesia like this after suffering a severe trauma, and though you're aware that it happens to people, it's been surreal for you. It's like you've got a thick fog stuck inside your head, and every time you try to venture through it to remember the last few years of your life, it disorients you and turns you away. It's like your mind doesn't want you to remember. "Yeah," you say, smiling back at her.

"Good luck, hon. I can't wait to hear all about it when you get home," she says, giving you a quick squeeze.

You watch her leave your room, then glance back at the mirror one last time. You smooth down the front of your shirt, satisfied you look like a respectable book store manager. 'Take as much time as you need,' your parents had said. 'There's no rush. You'll always have a place here.'

It's been three and a half months since you woke up in that hospital room up in Seattle, disoriented and scared. Once you were able to talk, you gave the doctor your parents' names. Within twenty-four hours, Mom and Dad were by your side. They'd taken the first flight out of Colorado to get to you as fast as they could, and you'd never been happier to see them. You may be approaching 30, but you'll never outgrow the sanctuary you find in your mom and dad.

But the clock is ticking - enough dawdling. You've got to get to work on time. You glance over at the photo and smile sadly at Jonah. No one will tell you what happened to him; you know only that he's gone. And that it hurts.

***THREE MONTHS LATER***