Just a Memory Pt. 01

Part One of Three

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MEMORY LOST

PROLOGUE

I'm Josh, 33. I'm 6'-2" and weigh about 190, with a broad chest and fairly muscular build, though not beefy. Nowadays, I'm pretty cut. I guess my physique resembles that of a professional swimmer, though I am not one. I guess I'm average to handsome looking, depending on the eye of the beholder. I have dark-brown hair which is slightly wavy. I wear it off the ears and neck. I tried a mustache and beard for a while, but could never get used to the look, so I am now cleanshaven. I have brown eyes, an average nose, and have what is considered a strong chin and jawline.

As this story begins, I'm quiet, reserved, and somewhat anti-social. I wasn't always that way, and hope not to be, in the future. I was once married, had a job, and by all accounts, a good life with a bright future. I say by all accounts, because I have little to no memory of that life. My story begins a little over two years ago in northern California on the Pacific coast.

I. UPSIDE DOWN

My wife and I were traveling on the Pacific Coast Highway, Highway 1. We were outside the northern California town of Eureka, when my world was turned upside down - literally and figuratively.

In a region where the highway is only two lanes and follows high cliffs above the ocean, we were approaching a sharp bend in the road when an oncoming car took the curve too fast and broad-sided our car, causing me to slide off the road, flip over a guard rail and plunge over 100 feet onto a rocky plateau below, landing upside down. The rocky shelf saved us from falling another fifty feet into the ocean.

However, it did not save my wife, Kate. She died at the scene. From the time of the accident, it took rescuers three hours to respond, reach our car, stabilize it and pull us from the wreckage. The driver of the other car, a young man whose rich daddy had just bought him a new BMW, escaped with minor injuries. I have no memory of any of this and only know it from what was recounted to me.

Though seriously injured, I escaped with my body mostly intact, but not my mind. Head trauma left me in a coma for 17 days, and spinal injuries to my neck left me temporarily paralyzed in my extremities. Multiple surgeries and six months of rehabilitation restored my physical function, and close to a year of physical therapy and exercise restored my physical health. I never fully recovered my mental health, at least not when it came to my memory. I suffer from posttraumatic retrograde amnesia to this day. And though, in most cases, the amnesia isn't permanent, in some cases, such as mine, memory loss can be permanent. In my case, only time will tell.

My only memory of the accident is the sound of my wife's scream, a disembodied sound which echoes in my head to this day. Everything before that moment is a jumbled blur. Except for bits and pieces, I remember very little from the past. After the accident and regaining consciousness, I didn't know who I was, what my name was - nothing; but little by little, certain things returned. Within a month of coming out of the coma, I remembered 'me'. I eventually recognized my sister, and though I had the feeling we were very close, I had no specific memories of her, just fleeting moments here and there. I even recognized my wife's parents, but remembered almost nothing about them.

As for my parents, my mother passed less than a year before the accident - complications from hip surgery. I don't know the whole story; my sister doesn't like to talk about it. My father died of cancer when I was ten; not from smoking, but from chemicals where he worked. So, it's just my sister and I.

I do often think about the accident and how a few seconds could have made all the difference - if we had made it around that curve before the other car, then my life would be completely different. I no longer dwell on that, but it does creep in.

While I have few memories from my past, I do have knowledge about it. I know I went to college, and have a couple memories related to that, but mainly, the MSc in Geophysics from Caltech hanging on my wall tells me that. And I know I was in an intern program at Lawrence Livermore, but have no memories from there.

I recognize my wife in pictures and remember her name, but little else from our six years together. I have flashes, moments I remember, like a specific time at the beach, or a moment in the car driving somewhere. And though it may sound callous, emotionally, I don't feel the loss of my wife that deeply. But I do feel an emptiness, a hole in my soul, from not having memories of her.

Okay, so I had an education and a career path; I was a husband; and apparently had a very nice life ahead of me. Don't get me wrong; I know I can still have a decent life in the future, just not that one.

While I was in a coma, my sister, Elaine, stepped in, got temporary legal guardianship, took care of my affairs until I was able to, and hired a lawyer on my behalf. Their efforts resulted in a net 5.5-million-dollar settlement for me. I gave my sister 500,000 of that and banked and invested the rest. I live on the interest and dividends - but 'living' is a loose term. Besides memory loss, I deal with moments of severe agitation, disorientation, and overwhelming depression. I am also plagued by chronic headaches, but all these symptoms have decreased with time and treatment, except the amnesia.

After my initial rehabilitation, I moved to the Smoky Mountains in Western North Carolina, or WNC, to live near my sister, Elaine. I bought a small cabin on 10 acres with a bold creek, and located near the town of Waynesville. The cabin is generally isolated, but not remote. I'm only 20 minutes from town and 15 minutes from my sister's.

After moving there, I began a strenuous regimen of physical therapy and exercise, including running regularly. After a year I reached the physical condition that I'm in today; which, according to my sister, is better than the shape I was in before the accident.

During that year, I lived a solitary existence. I battled depression and had difficulty cultivating even casual relationships, male or female, but especially female. Every time I encountered a woman who showed interest in me, I was unable to follow through and develop any kind of relationship. To this day, I don't know why that was the case.

As I rebuild my life, each day I try to focus on the present and making progress of some sort. I always hope I will regain my full memory, but I don't count on it, and I don't dwell on it. Like one of my physical therapists said, "Josh, I could tell you a hundred different things to encourage you and enlighten you on how to recover and regain your former physical strength and abilities, but the simple phrase, 'Start by putting one foot in front of the other' is the most important."

So, that is what I am doing these days, metaphorically, putting one foot in front of the other. Thus begins my journey to become a complete person.

Afraid that I was going to spiral into a hopeless, depressed state of existence, Elaine encouraged me to get out of the cabin, get off the mountain and travel - she insisted. Eventually, I relented and began a trip across country visiting our nation's natural and scenic wonders.

II. DEVIL'S TOWER

I started my trip going across the Southern U.S., hitting several significant sites, including Carlsbad Caverns in New Mexico and the Grand Canyon in Arizona. Then I turned north into Utah, passing through Las Vegas, which I didn't stop to visit - too crowded, noisy and flashy. In Utah, I visited Bryce Canyon, Arches National Park and Monument Valley. From there, I continued north, visiting Yellowstone and Devil's tower. So began the journey to recover my mental health, one that, in ways, was more challenging than the one to recover my physical health, although far more interesting.

With the body, you can have a plan, a program that takes you step by step. With the mind, there's no road map, no plan; it's a crap shoot. I saw psychologists and head trauma specialists, but the story was always the same - there's no direct path to regaining your memory and no guarantees; and for every person, the journey and the outcome can be different. But my sister was right; getting out of my cabin and reconnecting with the world was the right course of action. It didn't specifically help me regain my memory, but it did help me function better, and helped my state of mind.

Traveling across country, I was constantly forced to engage with strangers and deal with new situations; something I had been insulated from to a great degree since the accident. The simple tasks of checking in at hotels, eating in restaurants, being in crowds of people, though difficult, were all therapeutic on some level. We don't realize how much of daily activity is routine when we have a past filled with experiences for a foundation. I appreciate that greatly. Conversations can be awkward, tasks can be challenging, interactions on any level can be uncomfortable.

Actually, the severity of my head injury could have left me with diminished physical and mental capacities - aphasia. With the trauma my brain underwent, only suffering memory loss and some severe headaches was quite fortunate in the grand scope of things. And I do remember certain things - how to tie my shoes, dress, shower, et cetera. Though I don't remember what I liked to eat, what I liked to watch on tv, what my favorite sports teams were, on and on. I was and still am an incomplete person.

On the upside, being put in new situations, being forced to interact with people helped me to develop into who I am now. Elaine tells me that I have become a unique blend of 'old Josh' and 'new Josh'.

After the first couple weeks of travel, I was pretty comfortable functioning on my own and was learning to deal with people and crowds on a superficial level. However, personal situations still presented a challenge, especially with women.

As I traveled, I made a few discoveries along the way - I like beer; don't know if I always did, but I do now. And I found that after a beer or two, it was easier to engage people in casual conversation. Oh, and pizza - I love pizza, even bad pizza.

Late one afternoon, after visiting Devil's Tower in northeastern Wyoming, I headed down to I-90 to get to my next stop, Mount Rushmore in South Dakota. I picked up the 90 in the small town of Sundance. I stopped there, filled with gas and ate dinner. By the time I was ready to leave, it was closing on eight p.m. and Rushmore was still two hours away, so I decided to overnight in Sundance. On my way to find a room, I spotted a bar called the Horseshoe Bar and Grill (name altered - but locals will know), and decided to have a beer. One beer turned into two as I chatted with the bartender, a pleasant young woman named Marla. While we were talking, I was approached by a guy and asked if I'd fill out a foursome playing pool.

"Hey, Marla, just want to see if our friend here would like to join us in a game of pool. Bobby couldn't make it, and we need a fill in."

"Sure, Chuck. Josh, this is Chuck; Chuck, Josh. Would you like to shoot some pool, Josh?"

"I'm not sure if I know how to play, but willing to try."

Chuck laughed, "You don't know if you can play?"

"It's a memory thing. I was in a bad accident, and some things I used to know how to do, I can still do; just don't know till I try them," I explained.

Over the past couple months, I'd gotten used to explaining my situation. It came up a lot.

"How would you like with your steak?" --- "No idea."

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"Been here, before?" --- "I don't know."

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"Do you like Country music? --- "Couldn't tell you."

Ad nauseum...

Chuck offered, "Oh, okay, sorry to hear that. But if you're game, why don't you join us and see."

He was likeable and I thought, "What the hell, something new to try."

I followed Chuck to the pool table and he introduced me to Charlotte and Nichole, 'Charly' and 'Nicky'. I had to briefly explain my situation. I was greeted by the typical responses I get and which I am used to - "I've never met anyone with amnesia." "Oh, how terrible." "You don't remember anything?" and so on.

Chuck explained to me, "Nicky's friend couldn't make it, got called out of town on a job, so she's your partner."

"Hey Josh. Don't worry, I can beat these two using the wrong end of the pool cue," Nicky joked.

I liked her immediately and she made me feel comfortable. Nicky wasn't beautiful, I guess 'cute' would be the appropriate descriptive, but she was not hard on the eyes - kind of tall, at least 5'-9" and slender, not real curvy, kind of lanky. Her long blond hair was eye-catching, that and her derriere - when she bent over to shoot, her long hair, tied in a ponytail, hung down past the table's edge, and her butt was damn nice to look at. I was attracted to her long, blond hair, and who doesn't like a nice derriere?

Chuck broke, and when our turn came, I was up first. I wasn't nervous. I was used to trying new things with no expectations of success or failure; however, before missing, I made my first two shots, and it felt pretty natural.

"I think we're being hustled, Chuck," Charly kidded.

"You might be right, girl."

"I guess I've played pool before," I smiled, genuinely happy to discover that fact.

Nicky gave me a 'high-five', "Alright partner, let's take 'em down."

After three games, Nicky and I led two to one - Nicky was the 'shark' in the group. We took a break to sit, drink and chat. Of course, I had to recount my story, which I was also used to by now.

"I can't imagine what you've gone through, Josh," Charly exclaimed, "that's life crushing, losing your wife and...well, just terrible."

"I guess you're pretty lucky you don't remember your wife. It seems to me that would have made things a lot harder," Nicky added.

"Yes, I've thought about that a lot. I don't know which is worse though. I wished I did remember more about her, but then I know I would have been more devastated by the loss."

Chuck raised his soda, "Here's to ya, man...Oh, I got to get going - night shift. It was real nice meeting you. Good luck with the memory and all; and thanks for filling in. Charly, you're my ride."

"Right. Well, a real pleasure, Josh. Take care," Charly added as she rose and shook my hand.

I stood and said goodbye to both and started to push my chair in, but Nicky put a hand on my arm, "We don't have to leave...if you'd like another beer..."

"Oh, sure, if you don't have to go. I'm staying the night here, so all I have is a motel room waiting."

"Where are you staying?" she asked.

"Not sure, yet."

"Oh, you haven't gotten a room?"

"Not yet. Do you think that will be a problem at this hour?" It was already after ten. I was having a good time and forgot about a motel.

"No, shouldn't be a problem."

We sat and chatted, and sipped our beers. I asked about her, getting off the subject of me. She was 27, divorced, and worked for the small post office in town. She had lived in the area since her parents moved here when she was thirteen.

When I noticed it was after eleven, I said, "Nicky, I'm having a great time, but I better see if I can still get a room."

"Um, you know, you don't have to worry about that. If you want, you can crash at my place...I guess I shouldn't use the word 'crash'."

"No, that's okay. It doesn't bother me, but I couldn't put you out..."

"Oh, you're not, really...um, I have room and...I'm enjoying your company," she shyly admitted.

Honestly, I didn't pick up on what she was intimating. You have to realize; this was new territory for me. Nicky was the first woman I had connected with on a personal level since my accident.

"Well, if it's no trouble..."

"I can make us a snack, something to absorb the alcohol."

"Yes, this is a bit more than I'm used to drinking."

I followed Nicky to her home, a small place outside of town; nothing special, but the small yard was well kept, and when we entered, the place was neat, clean and cozy.

III. CLOSE ENCOUNTER OF THE FIRST KIND

After we went in, I followed her to the small kitchen, and she offered coffee and some dinner rolls with butter and jam.

"That sounds great," I replied.

We sat and ate and she talked about her divorce, life in a small town, and the tourists. Apparently, they could be 'interesting', including me. She said I was the 'most interesting' one she had met - in a good way. She seemed a bit nervous, and I didn't understand the change. Everything had been very relaxed and casual, before.

"I'm feeling much better. Thanks for the coffee and the snack. If you have to get up early, I don't want to keep you," I offered, naively.

"No, tomorrow's Saturday. Um, I was going to take a shower and wash the day off. Would you like to take a shower, too?" she asked.

"Sure, it's been a long day and I could use one."

Breaking eye contact, she timidly offered, "You can go first...or you could join me..."

For a moment, I didn't understand. Once I did, I was flummoxed. I was not prepared for that, and it finally dawned on me - "Ohhh!"

"Um, Nicky, I..."

"I'm sorry, I thought maybe...but if you don't want to, or if you're not attracted to me..."

"Nicky, that's not it at all. I am attracted to you, very much so. I just didn't expect that, and I'm sorry. It's, well, I haven't been with anyone since the accident, and I don't know if, um..."

"You know what they say, 'It's like riding a bike'," she smiled, nervously.

"I'm pretty sure it's a lot more enjoyable," I countered, grinning.

We rose from the table and she took my hands in hers and kissed me gently on the lips, then led us to her bedroom. To say I was nervous would be an understatement. This was not the same as discovering whether I could shoot pool or not - handle a stick, get some balls in a hole. There's a metaphor in there, somewhere.

"You're shaking," she said, as we entered her bedroom.

"I'm nervous," I explained.

"Don't be. We'll go slow, and if you're uncomfortable, we don't have to do anything," she offered as she started to undress.

"I thought we were going to shower first."

"We are, but we'll undress in here. The bathroom's kind of small."

First, she released her ponytail, shaking out her long, blond hair, which cascaded around her shoulders almost to her elbows. Then she pulled her blouse off revealing her upper body and the swell of her breasts in her lacy bra. I felt a familiar stirring and knew we would be doing something, just wasn't sure what, yet. When she removed her bra and freed her breasts, I felt more than a stirring. I hadn't seen a woman's breasts 'in the flesh' since the accident; but memories came rushing back, nothing specific, but some sort of primal knowledge. I knew one thing - hers were beautiful - moderate C-cups with enough pout to look real, which they were, and with brown aureoles capped by moderately long, full but not thickish nipples. After she removed her bra, she closed the distance between us and leaned into me, engaging me in a soft, warm, soul kiss. My cock responded to the feel of her against me, her lips against mine, and her slender tongue invading my mouth. She felt the reaction and reached down, tracing the outline of my erection.

"Somebody remembers what this is about," she playfully remarked, then leaned back and smiled.

With that, she began unbuttoning my shirt. I pulled it off and tossed it on the bed. I raised my arms and she pulled off my t-shirt.

"Wow, nice body, Josh."

"Likewise," I replied.

"You think so? I've always felt that I'm too skinny, and I'm a little self-conscious about my breasts - they sag a little."