Memory Deficit

"This is the refrigerator. You open it like this. There's food inside. To eat. Just eat whatever you want."

She reinforced her lesson by making eating gestures. It would have been hilarious if I hadn't been so tired and confused. I even considered becoming a bit scared. Why the remark about food? Did she plan to poison me? Not knowing which expression could possibly cover this range of emotions, I kept my face neutral and vowed to avoid eating suspicious things from the fridge. That meat loaf, for instance, looked downright sinister, until I remembered it had been there before the accident. Or did that make it worse?

*****

The following days were just as confusing. Despite her thinly veiled threats, Dani seemed genuinely concerned and loving. It was almost as if she was trying to kill me with kindness. Not the worst way to go, but I planned to stay around for a while longer, if it was all right with everyone. I was impressed by her acting skills, especially as I had never noticed that talent in her.

*****

Just when I thought the police would do nothing at all about my failed assassination, Dani and I got a visit from a Detective Cook. I always thought cops came in pairs, but maybe he was sharp enough to handle the case on his own. Or maybe he didn't want to share the donuts.

"Okay, Mr..." He had to check the papers he was holding, as he had clearly forgotten my name. "...Walters. So, you've had an accident. Amnesia, it seems. Interesting. Can't say I've ever had such a case before.

"Okay, anyway. What can you tell me about the accident? Do you have any enemies?"

What could I say to a cop asking two questions at once, one of them if I remembered why I had amnesia, without coming across as insulting? I had hoped the police would help me shine a light on what had happened, but it seemed that was a slim hope. Still, I wanted to find out the truth and I had to take whatever help I could get. My amnesia was fake, but the accident was real, and I still couldn't remember anything about how it happened.

"Well, Detective..." I pretended to check a name on the back of my hand. "...Cook. I'm sorry, I don't really remember anything from the time I lost my memory," I began truthfully. He didn't seem to think my answer was odd. "I don't know about any enemies, but maybe they know about me. Maybe I have some, but have forgotten. I've heard it's one of the side effects of amnesia."

He just nodded solemnly, as if he was actually interested in my case. He even pretended to take some notes.

"Okay, that is a dead end then," he added and I had the impression they all would be, especially since his principal interest seemed to be watching Dani's body right behind me. "We will interrogate the mechanic just as thoroughly," he added, and it sounded as if he wanted to make sure I was under no illusions. He needn't have worried.

"What about my wife?"

"Dani? Nice. What about her?"

Wait, why did he call her Dani, not Ms. Walters?

"You don't need to interview her?"

"Dani? Why would I do that? Joe's Automotive Excellence is next on my list." He was still talking to her female features, as she was still standing behind me. "He's the one who worked on your brakes, just in case you don't remember."

I was amazed at this guy's naiveté. Dani was clearly a prime suspect and he just chose to ignore her. I wondered why, but there was nothing I could do about it.

*****

"No, we can't continue this," my wife said, unaware that I was listening to her side of the phone conversation.

...

"I said no. Not this way."

...

"Yes, I want it too. You know damn well how much I want it."

...

"Mike, we can't. Listen, I need to go. Take care..."

Confused, I walked back to the sofa, where Dani assumed I had been all along. She had taken care of me with an almost frightening intensity, waiting on me, fulfilling every need I might have. After that conversation, I was certain it was all just an act. She obviously had already left me for Mike. Why was she still here? Money. With the accident gone wrong, they seemed to be hatching an alternative plan. Giving her half of everything in a divorce by cancelling the prenup might save my life, but I was too stubborn to do it.

Still, I couldn't deny a light panic coming up and asked myself if it wasn't wiser to just run for my life. I decided I might do that, but only after my curiosity was satisfied.

*****

"Honey, have you heard about Joe's garage?" my wife greeted me in a strangely exuberant way. Was this her way of acting to lull me into believing everything was okay?

"Oh, sorry, I keep forgetting you have amnesia. Joe owns the garage that worked on your brakes before the accident happened."

"Yeah, Detective Cook told me yesterday that Joe's was next on his list."

"Poor Joe. I trust him completely. I'm sure he's innocent. Why would he try to kill you?"

Why, indeed? Joe had no interest in my untimely demise. He might be the only one in that situation. Dani kept adding to my confusion, though. Joe hadn't worked on our cars before he fucked up my brakes. Why did she act as if she knew him?

Was Joe her partner in crime? If he was her partner in crime, what had she done to convince him? My wife was a very attractive woman, who usually had no trouble convincing men to do precisely what she wanted them to. Maybe she had found a special way of motivating him.

"I'm glad to hear that, Dani. Really glad. I can let him work on my next car without a worry, then."

In truth, wasn't sure I'd ever be able to drive a car again without a serious panic attack. The only solution might be to always take Dani with me. Whoever tried to kill me, I was relatively sure she was involved in some way. I just needed to learn who else was involved. Joe? My kids? Mike? I had no idea, but I had to live with the fact I was surrounded by potential enemies.

"Right, isn't that great, honey? Detective Cook said it was just a simple mechanic's error and bad luck."

Damn, why had Cook told Dani that and not me? And why had she asked me about Joe's when she already knew what Cook had said? Was he somehow involved in this too? He had called her Dani. That would explain the sloppy investigation. I had assumed he was just an incompetent lecher, but maybe there was more behind this.

"Why did he tell you and not me?"

"Well, you have amnesia, so we couldn't be sure you'd understand everything. Plus, I was there with my Audi just a few days before you..." she blabbed before she could stop herself.

"Wait, what? You saw Joe right before my crash?" I interrupted her. This was getting worse and worse.

"Yes, I told you. Of course, you don't remember." My memory was sharp as a tack, and I knew she was lying. So, she knew Joe, had talked to him just a few days before my accident, but didn't want to tell me. Why? This didn't look good.

"Anyway, I think Cook interviewed Joe and wanted to reassure me that everything has been done as it should have been."

What the fuck did that mean? Cook wanted to reassure my traitorous wife that Joe had sabotaged my brakes as he was supposed to and it was just bad luck I was still alive? Did she have sex with both Cook and Joe to convince them to join this conspiracy? She had some cash, but not enough to hire two hitmen.

I didn't know much about police procedures, but I doubted Cook could have gotten a full examination and report finished in such a short time. That meant he hadn't done anything and had lied about it instead.

"Glad to hear that. What is he going to do next?"

"That's it, he said. It's settled, it was just an accident. Case closed. Joe's insurance will cover all 500 bucks your old Toyota was worth, plus all the other expenses we had. They sure were lucky it wasn't my Audi they had to pay for."

"Yeah. Well, that would have been inconvenient. Glad everyone's happy," I sourly replied.

"Don't be like that, honey. I think you were really lucky to escape like this. I'm sure your little amnesia will go away in no time."

Escape like this? Why did she say escape if she believed it was an accident?

"Yeah, ain't I lucky?"

"By the way, have you given this prenup thing a little more thought?"

"What prenup thing?" I asked, playing the amnesia card again. She just sighed and I could almost see her planning and scheming.

"Don't worry about it, honey," she finally said, which made me worry even more.

*****

"Morning, Joe," I began, trying to sound as if nothing happened. Hostility wouldn't produce what I needed most, which was a bit of truth. I hadn't told Dani I was taking "her" Audi; she probably assumed I had forgotten how to drive a car.

"Oh my god, Tom. I can't tell you how sorry I am. I've heard about your amnesia. Terrible. I feel so guilty. You see that windscreen wiper rack over there? Just pick one, it's yours. No charge. Just like that. I hope we're good, man."

Stupefied, I looked at the rack in question. There were only very few left, probably to fit the Ford Pinto and the Pontiac Aztek. He obviously mistook my expression for gratitude.

"It's no big deal, honestly. It's the least I could do."

I couldn't have agreed more, but decided to follow my strategy and lull him into some kind of camaraderie.

"Thanks, my friend. I really appreciate it. I will choose my present later, okay?"

"Sure thing, buddy. By the way, you'll be glad to know I've fired that apprentice."

"Apprentice?"

"Yeah, the one who fucked up your brakes. Oh, sorry, you don't remember. I keep forgetting about your amnesia."

Okay, I knew he was lying then. He didn't have an apprentice. When I had brought in my doomed Toyota, he had complained that all young guys wanted to be web designer assistants or influencers. Nobody wanted honest manual labor anymore, and he had to do everything himself. Why did he lie? Just to cover up his own fucked up brake job? No, Dani had already hinted she had something going on with him.

"Too bad you didn't do it yourself, man. I know how thorough you are with such things."

He covered his grimace quickly.

"You know what? I will throw in one of these fabulous ice scrapers. How about that? The plastic is translucent. Isn't that crazy?"

I felt that I needed to leave quickly, or I'd be buried in worthless junk. Still, I needed more information.

"Do I need to worry about Dani's Audi? I hope it wasn't the same apprentice working on it?"

"Apprentice? Oh, yeah. No. She wasn't here with her car, so you don't need to worry."

He clearly was no marketing genius, and he might even be dumb enough to let himself be used in a possible conspiracy against me. But at least he confirmed that either he or Dani had lied about bringing her Audi to him.

"Thanks, Joe. I need to leave now."

"Hey, what about your gifts?"

"Forget about them. I certainly will."

I had a lot to contemplate, I thought, as a confused Joe watched me leave. Dani, my kids, Cook, Mike and Joe had all lied to me. Was there any connection? Dani, my kids and Mike were clearly the ones who'd benefit most from my death. Were Mike and Dani already a couple? What kind of techniques had Dani used to lure Cook and Joe?

What about my kids? They would benefit from my demise too. I doubted they had been able to convince Cook or Joe to help them, though. It was all very confusing. All I knew was that someone probably wanted to see me dead and might try again.

Back at home, my phone rang, and Dani seemed surprised I knew how to answer it.

"Cook here. Detective Cook. How do you feel? Any news about our case?"

Two questions at once again.

"Walters here. Tom Walters. Shouldn't I be the one who asks that question?"

"I feel fine, thanks. I just wanted to tell you we have no real evidence about your brakes. The case will be closed soon."

That might have been the truth. He had no real evidence because nobody had looked for any.

"But you can't rule out the possibility that someone tinkered with them?"

"We can't, but why would anyone do that? Besides, isn't it impossible to prove a negative?"

Two questions again. "Yeah. Sure. Thanks for your support." I tried to sound sarcastic, but realized he had already hung up.

"Who was that?" Dani asked.

"Cook. He told me he is too lazy to properly investigate this. He assumes nobody sabotaged my brakes, but can't tell for sure. I'm sure my death would have piqued his interest. As I failed to die and a real investigation would involve work on his side, he simply closed the case."

I had always loved her bright smile, but at this point, I didn't appreciate it. Was she that happy to be off the hook?

"It's probably a good thing. You can focus on getting well now. I'm really glad we don't have to deal with the police anymore, anyway."

"What?"

She realized what she had just said.

"Oh, of course I had nothing to fear. Still, it's always unsettling. You know, it's... I'm sure you..."

She seemed to run out of coherent things to say without incriminating herself. Problem was, I could hardly accuse her of anything. I had no hard proof and no idea how to get it, or if I really was prepared to hear the truth. I had hired a PI a few weeks before the accident, as I wanted to know who was stealing from my company. I decided it was time to talk to that guy again, although he had come up with nothing back then.

*****

"Amnesia? Really? I thought that existed only in bad stories. Amazing. I've been a private investigator for almost two years now, but even I have never seen anything like that before. You really don't remember the previous job I did for you?"

"No. There was a previous job?"

"Yes. You said you were more than happy with my work. I can give you the same price again. You bargained hard back then. Just 95 bucks per hour."

I knew that was a lie, the previous rate was 80. I could hardly complain, though, without blowing my cover.

"Okay, go ahead. I'll give you 85, though. Take it or leave it."

This amnesia game started to annoy me. It seemed like everyone I talked with told me something that I knew was a lie, only I couldn't call them on it, because I had amnesia. That sucked. Worse, it seemed that I was surrounded by people who wanted to prey on me, and my fake amnesia seemed to be the only way I could get the information I needed to foil them. There's got to be an easier way to do this, I thought. Otherwise, the world would be overrun by people afflicted by fake amnesia. But since I couldn't figure out what that easier way might be, amnesia would have to serve.

*****

The PI said it would take a few weeks until he got results, and those weeks of uncertainty turned out to be pure hell. My brain revolved around the same questions and was able to constantly add more. I had a whole bunch of suspects. My whole family. Joe. Mike. Cook. Hell, a list of people not involved would be shorter. I was reasonably sure the new cashier in the supermarket was innocent. I was less sure of the PI.

While the PI claimed to be busy, I decided to probe my dear family a bit to see if I could get closer to the bottom of things. My kids needing money again was a good occasion.

"Dad, what about that 2,500?" Emily reminded me.

"2,500?" Amnesia or not, I was honestly confused.

"Yeah, per month. Right before your accident, we agreed on that. You even proposed it, so I could live in style until the trust fund is set up."

Wow, two lies in one sentence. That was good, even for Emily.

"I did? What about Max?"

"What about Max?"

"He needs two point five grand per month too?"

"Who cares about that jerk? He will never get his diploma anyway. He's just interested in pot and girls."

"And you?"

"Dad! I'm not interested in girls."

"What about your mom?"

"Dad! I'm not interested in her either." She was rolling her eyes at me in that idiotic way teenagers do. I guess she thought because I had amnesia, I wouldn't remember how much I hated it.

"No, I mean..."

"Ah, I see. No, she isn't interested in girls either."

"Emily! I wanted to know what she thinks about this."

"Girls or pot?"

She looked honestly confused and I wondered what kind of mental giantess I had helped create.

"No, about the money."

"Oh, she was all for it and even told you so before the accident."

Of course, I knew she hadn't. I was still waiting for the moment one of the people around me would actually tell me the truth about something. Anything. Maybe I should lower my expectations and start asking about the weather.

"Ah, I see. I will think about it, okay?"

"Daaad..."

"I will let you have 500, just to keep you from immediate starvation, okay?"

Her short-term economic problems solved, she just stood up and walked out. Had she always been this disrespectful? I was clearly only seen as an ATM by everyone I knew, and the thought depressed me. I thought about it for a while, but had come to no conclusion other than that it had probably been my own fault at some point by letting it happen when I was interrupted by the appearance of my son.

I tried to look at him with my eyes really open, as a stranger would, which I hadn't done in a long time. What I saw wasn't promising. He looked like, and obviously was, a lazy, unkempt pothead. I wondered if he still was a virgin, as I doubted any girl with functioning eyes and nose would want to touch the ghastly apparition in front of me. I was looking at a young man who was lucky enough to have all the chances in life and was in the process of throwing them all away.

"Hey, Dad."

"Max. Sorry, I won't shave you and give you a haircut."

"Very funny. What about the trust fund thing you promised before your accident?"

Wow, he certainly didn't feel the need to waste time with pleasantries before he brought up the first lie.

"Have you talked with Emily about that?"

"Em? No. Why?"

Again, that was most certainly a lie. I doubted the wreck in front of me could come up with that idea on his own. Someone had certainly explained to him what a trust fund would do for him and had reminded him very recently or he would have forgotten meanwhile.

"Just wondering. What about Mom?" I waited for the next lie.

"I think she has enough money. She gives me some all the time."

Damn, he was stupid enough to rat out his own mom. Dani had promised me she wouldn't give him extra money, but she obviously had.

"I see. It seems you have thought out that trust fund concept pretty well, which is quite impressive. I have no idea about such things myself. How would it work, in detail?"

He looked at me as if I had two heads. I had clearly caught him by surprise. I guess he forgot I had amnesia. That kid had a longer attention span when he was three.

"Umm, well... It works like this..." He was trying to come up with words that would make sense, but clearly had no idea about the issue at hand. "Well, it works like this. I would get money each month. A lot of money, you know? You would have no say in it."

He ran out of words, watching me and clearly trying to determine if he had said the right things. It seemed he was unable to come up with a conclusion, as he waited for my reaction.

"I see. Why would I want to do that?"

"You? Why would that be important?"

Wow, that was blatant.

"Because I'm the one supposed to do it?"

"Yeah, but... Well... Emily said it would save you the hassle of transferring money each month."

"Didn't you just say you hadn't talked to Emily?"

"What? No. That must be your amnesia."

Now he remembers my amnesia! I had to laugh, despite the depressing situation. Everyone seemed to have very odd ideas about amnesia.

"Okay, and I said I wanted to do it before the accident?"

"Yeah, dude. You were totally for it." Dude? Dude? What the hell was that all about?

"Ah, I think I was wrong back then. I think we should come up with a new plan. You will get money strictly based on your achievements at school. How about that?"