Deborah

I was pacing back and forth in the same room, trying to work up myself to being brave, planning how to tweak my rough-around-the-edges and ignorant cadence, tone, expression and body language to ace the game. For many beginners acting was an art of performance but for me it was an emotion. Just a look at the mirror while chanting self-affirmations and I was ready.

I knew I had it in me. I can do it.

Boom! The raw-boned man stormed in. I flicked the mirror away and it landed on the bed. Quickly flexing the role of a loving wife, I said, "Why are you acting like this all of a sudden?"

"I've always been like this. Anyway, we are taking you to someplace where you truly deserve."

I asked tenderly, creasing my forehead, "Where?"

"To an acting workshop. I know some people who can forward your name or maybe Mindy Khaling can herself unearth your under-appreciated acting talent."

Firstly, I hated how easily these loaded, famous people introduced every problem with a possible solution, such as the combination of lock and key. Without breaking a sweat, as if they weren't problems for them from the beginning. A piece of cake - yes. Did the world revolve around him? Hell yeah! I felt great as there was someone who believed that I was brilliant at my trade. Besides, the Mindy Khaling thing had me at one point, maybe he wanted to help me. The guy was loaded and surely had connections with people in high places.

Nevertheless, I didn't let the soft aura cease and replied in the same tone, "I've offered my gift of trust the day we married each other. Now if you take me to hell or heaven, I have no complaints."

-----

We were standing under the scorching mid-afternoon sun of California, as a flock of birds soared overhead. I was blanched as soon as I eyed the destination, a colossal boring structure of glass with infinite windows. A hospital in between the palm trees. As I read the board my mind slipped into a pool of questions. Why was I here? What were they up to?

"We will see a renowned psychiatrist, who also happens to be Leon's best friend, Doc Ali." Maximo stared at the building with steely ambition.

My eyes popped out. The guy even had a best friend. That came as a big shock to me. If it were any true, the idea of meeting another cranky man wasn't appealing to me. I thought of beating a hasty retreat and never seeing them again.

Coming to a stop behind me, Leon grappled with a baseball hat and aviators, pretending to be a paparazzi magnet. In the meantime, he winced in pain and Maximo turned all his attention on him. "Leon, what happened?"

"Nothing, just a cut." He blew on the back of his hand.

"Be careful," I said, apparently wearing the skin of a caring wife, but he didn't even say a word or send a reciprocating reaction. Or rather I was a big fool to expect any sort of recognition from a person who was literally carved out of wood. I decided I wouldn't empathize with him if he started bleeding to death.

"Put your best foot forward. I hope he does something to bring your memory back."

Maximo placed a hand on my shoulder and somehow it bore the weight of a sail unfurled with the heaviest storm.

"I'm telling you I don't need this. I'm completely fine. Please," I kept on requesting, resisting and partially begging to let go of me. Where Maximo looked bizarrely familiar to a tyrant and Leon looked like a statesman who didn't mind getting rid of one woman to maintain his peace. Their talk mixed into the melange of deafening chatter as we waded through the crowd of hospital-stricken families. Now nothing could save me from this mess.

Later, before entering a cubicle Leon turned around and asked, "Wait a second. How are we going to start?"

Maximo frowned and offered a suggestion, "I mean you are the writer. You know the best opening line."

Secretly, I was mapping the route, in case I had to run when a blonde attendant donning a black blazer with sagging breasts interrupted, "Can I help you?"

Leon swiped a finger beneath his nostrils and said, "Um, I'm a friend of Doc. Connor. May I speak with him?"

"Your name sir?"

"Leon. Leon Forero."

"Just a moment." Then she did some computer work and told us "Two floors up. You can take the elevator."

"Elevator? Are you sure? We are not here for any diagnosis. We wanted to drop in."

"Oops. I'm so sorry sir. It's next to the staircase." The receptionist started perspiring and wobbled out of her desk. "Shall I accompany you-"

"No, thanks." Leon continued, putting on his shades. "The pharmacy, close to the exit. The canteen is down in the basement. The waiting area is on both sides of the hall. I mean I know this place better than her." Leon was flexing his multiple-track-mind as we moved closer to the destination and he introduced

I believed this man just had to be salty all the time, even the receptionist wasn't happy attending to him.

"Oh, Leon, in the flesh. How are you?" The happy man who I believed was the only one to rock the smart casual code in a hospital, strode from behind his desk and pressed Leon's bony hand. His voice was clear and deliciously penetrating.

I didn't simp for anyone so easily but this man was a sight to behold. Unlike Leon who was just too slim to even be held in the sight. I mean the way those well-tailored pants were cut for his curves - heaven. A light cotton black shirt with maroon stripes at a distance. The casualification of the formal wear shocked me for a second. His hair was wavy, black and a little damp out of overwork. Never did I see a doctor who looked like a perfect package of satisfaction. But this man proved me wrong. And the brown loafers that smartened up the whole look, my god.

"Maximo, you look better every time I see you."

"Avoiding sugar."

He was smiling throughout until he addressed me, "Aaaannd she?"

I drifted my eyes away from him and rolled down my fingers into fists at the sides nervously.

"Apparently she doesn't have a name. She goes by the pronouns she/her."

I was like put a sock in it but anyhow I maintained my calm, "I just don't remember my name, doctor. That's why my husband got me here."

"Husband, you are married?" He covered his mouth and cackled. "Dude, why did you keep it a secret? Maximo, even you forgot to invite me?"

"Oh no, not by any stretch of the imagination!" Leon lashed out at his friend. "I'm seriously embarrassed to bring this to you. People will think how crazy I am. I-I can't explain it. It's a silly joke. Maximo, would you please take from here-"

"Is she up the duff?" he whispered.

"Of course not!"

"It's about last night. We find her on the road. Bring her home. After two hours, she wakes up with no memory of what had happened. . . but says that she is Leon's wife."

Doctor Connor's mouth was slightly parted as he continued glancing at me. "Alright. Does she remember the whole incident?" On Maximo's lack of response, he took a few steps ahead. "Do you remember how this all happened? How you got hurt on your head? Or how you met them?"

I breathed out. "I'm trying harder each time, but my mind is closed." I clamped my head. "This place is sickening. I need to get out of here."

"Any of the memories of yesterday you remember?" His face scrunched in thought.

"No, nothing." I could feel it in my bones it was time to dash off from this room. But the thought of actually taking that leap was a daunting one.

"Doc Connor, let me take you through the tragic night, this girl, runs away from something and out of all turns she has to come right in front of my car. Likes it's all preplanned-"

"Leon, stop-stop." Dr. Connor raised a hand and stood limping on one foot. "It's an accident."

"Why Connor? Maybe somebody wants me dead. I know just as many followers I've gained, I have accumulated enemies."

"Coming back to the current episode."

"If Maximo hadn't insisted, I'd not have stepped out of my car and carried her weight with me." Leon stood facing me, accusing me and overpowering me with an accent enrobed with viscosity. "That's that."

"Can you stop saying the same story again?"

"Only if you stop sounding like a broken record."

"Well well, Leon, my friend, allow me to give some advice." The man's arm sketched a boundary between us and Leon backed off.

He whirled around and picked at a paper on the table before speaking, "It's wise to check in with a neurologist because the effects of some head injuries can escalate in severity over time."

Maximo questioned, "A neurologist?"

I felt my pulse quicken.

"An expert who will conduct a battery of tests."

"Do me a favour Connor, I have some big interviews coming. Include me out of this," Leon preassumed the attitude of a President's spoiled son who wanted to come clean in the court.

"I understand. Hey, just read one in Hola Magazine."

Leon nodded in a friendly manner, closing his eyes.

Doc. Connor continued, "Okay. Let me take care of it."

After a moment, the doctor and I were alone in his office. Away from the pesky Leon and his butler. "Please sit and relax." He took a notepad and a posh golden pen that fit between his fingers so aptly. "It's always like the healthcare team knows so much personal information about patients, yet you know next to nothing about them."

Fine. I was spared a moment to have a rethink.

"Alright. Hello. My name is Edward Connor. You can call me by my first name. I've been assisting patients in overcoming mental alienation and illness. I think one way to get to the root cause of any problem is by talking it out. It builds a therapeutic relationship. What do you say?"

I didn't speak a word.

"Want to drink some water?" He pushed the sparkling water at the table and was back in the same sceptical pose.

"See, if you don't answer. We will have to take a big step ahead and start with the tests." He dragged his chair onwards and I completely found myself off guard until he adjusted on the chair. "Now decide."

"Sure, what do you wanna know?" I asked dryly.

"Cool. Do you remember anything about the past? Like childhood. Did you have a best friend? And what did that person call you?"

I watched him in disbelief.

"Take your time and answer."

"Yes," I laughed a little and started with a tinge of contempt, "I do remember my past very well. And my childhood wasn't a bit of anything that would excite you because I never had a best friend until I turned sixteen. I directly jumped on to have a boyfriend instead."

Suddenly confusion marred his expression, maybe he wasn't expecting that sort of answer and confidence from me.

"Listen, I'm offensively tired. Can we do the real talk?" My lips disappeared into a thin line. I dropped my shoulders, maybe I had something coming. I cat-walked and poked my tongue in my mouth and clawed my hand beside his head and one rested on my butt in the most sensuous way. "You seem like a sensible man, unlike your bestie. Wanna take me to your place?"

I never knew that hard noise came from pulling the drawer open, his eyes guided me to a white beaded photo frame that held intact a monochromatic picture of hands clasped. My heart dropped and my gut was shamefully full of gases. The important detail not to be missed was not the thin silver band in their fingers, but the woman he was with - Cameron Stone. The most bankable and famous actress in Hollywood.

The feeling was out of the world, I stuttered her name, "C-Cameron Stone. Oh, I was so much moved to see her play the eccentric nurse in Steve Martin's crime thriller." It was so crazy of me to be discussing it as if we both were friends. When I finally came out of the daze I straightened my back and saw him rise to six feet two inches in height.

He stuffed his hands inside his pockets and remained calm.

"You are engaged to her. How lucky." Even my breath dared not to take the form of audible sentences. When he didn't move, I extended a hand and introduced myself with a smile, "Okay. Hey, I'm Deborah O'Brien."

He folded his hands against his chest, raising his brow for some unknown reason.

"Twenty-five-year-old." I forced a smile. Surprisingly, his arms roped around his chest even more tightly. "A struggling actress with a dream of making a mark in Hollywood. What more? Oh." I removed the gauge fixed on the head.

"Okay, Deborah. Many many thanks for not wasting my time any more than fifteen minutes." He flapped his hand at the door. "That way please."

"Listen, can I request you to set my meeting with Cameron, please, I'm-" He grabbed my elbow and literally shoved me out of the closed door. I skidded and yelled, "Please, I've been looking for work in the films."

"I can't deal with . . . another Cameron. You people have made the film industry a different planet. You don't belong to be treated for such craziness here."

"Why are you saying this? Cameron isn't crazy, and I'm not crazy for starters, I have a solid reason."

He was startled for a hot minute and swiftly made his way to the door and held the doorknob.
"Be quick." He demanded. "Lest I'm informing them about you."

"Hey trust me. I don't have any wrong intention. We can sit and talk."

"It doesn't cut it. And you know that."

"No, I didn't even know who this person was. And it just happened he lives in such a grand place, rolling in money, has a butler. It was just a strange encounter from my side," I explained the truth in my typical drama-induced way. I placed my hand on his hand which was affixed on the doorknob. "Give me some time."

"What do you mean by sometime?"

"A week?" When his expressions didn't change. "A week and I will bow out." I stuck both my hands in the air gingerly. The stressful storm for us ended when he gasped. I threw my head back "Are we good now?"

"No, I need a guarantee."

I rolled my eyes: men were always unreasonably tough.

"I couldn't keep coming to Leon's mansion every day. I just don't have the time."

"Not at all problem. I'll come and meet you daily. Right here. Promise."

Maximo and Leon returned after an hour and grabbed their seats just like before. I could see how impatient the old man was, but surely none more so than me -- whose heartbeat was ready to explode at one word taken by Doc. Connor, out of favour.

Doc. Connor gave me the headphones and a thin novella, as a way to keep me away from the conversations they were about to have in the room. But there was no music and I could readily hear everything.

"According to my understanding, she might face a decrease in coordination, increased confusion or agitation, change in vision or seizures." He stopped and continued, "Other red flags include anxiety attacks and some off-and-on memory problems. That's it."

I felt reborn.

"That's it," Leon uttered, unaffected by the resetting done by my co-partner, Doc Connor.

"No, actually, that was just the shortlist," Doc Connor corrected his best friend and sneaked a tight glance at me as if he was warning me that it was impossible to pull this off. Now I realised that he purposely gave me a headphone that wasn't working right.

I closed my eyes and drew a tired sigh.

"Is it because she got hurt in her head?"  Maximo questioned.

"I'm sure there's no head injury but maybe a nerve or two might have been damaged in that accident."

"Any precautions to be taken by us?" Maximo asked.

"Don't ask her anything about her past. If triggered badly, the patient could take her life."

"Or just keep her locked up inside a room?" Leon scoffed, for perhaps the fifth time. "Like a prisoner."

I bit back the vulgar words that stumbled inside my head. This guy badly needed to see that side.

Maximo walked up to me and removed the headphones. "We have to come here tomorrow."

"Oh, okay," There was no shame in acting like an opportunist.

I purposely stood near the door so that I could wait up after the duo made their way out. I whisper-shouted a few words at Doc. Connor when the coast was clear. "You have a heart as big as a universe. Thanks."