Chapter 3

Carefully I treaded as I dressed, watched the head of my new family run completely over Doctor Benson, gaining me my release and a list of do's and don'ts as I recovered. From what I was recovering remained a secret, but one I suspected I could dope out sooner or later.

We all walked to a late model Toyota Camry. As we buckled up, she said, "You look scared out of your head, David. What's going on? That worthless piece of trash is in jail and according to the police, won't get out anytime soon. He violated a court order just by showing up. When he attacked me, he earned himself a felony, and when he put you in the hospital, he got himself at least another one. Because you're under age it's even worse for him.

"I hired a lawyer, yesterday, to get me a clean divorce from that unpolished turd. He says there's no way he gets out anytime in the next ten years." She was on a roll, and it seemed impolite to admit to having no earthly idea what, or who, she was talking about.

I didn't want to try to squeak by again, so this time I would own up to having no memories as fast as possible, but not with the two girls present. Rather than make a mistake, I just smiled and said nothing.

"Yeah, ' she said, softly. "When he started in on me, he hit me so hard I thought he'd put me in traction. When you showed up and told him to get out, I knew you were in trouble.

"Even knowing about his crazy temper, I never believed he would knock you cold, much less throw you through the glass door, ... OH! You don't know about any of that, do you? You were out of it. I thought he'd killed you, and so did the girls. Joan ran next door. Mr. Ballard was home and called the police.

"By the time they arrived, your worthless, good-for-nothing father was trying to choke you to death, even though you were unconscious. He was insane! It took two cops to put him down, and they still had to use a taser on him to get it done.

"Don't be afraid. He's history, and my lawyer says we'll get everything he's been keeping away from us. For all these years."

She touched my cheek, and I twitched. It hurt. She looked at my face and said, "He really hurt you, didn't he? I am so sorry, David. I can't believe he tried to kill you like that. When the police finally dragged him off of you, it was like you were having a seizure. You flopped all over the place, trying to breathe, and one cop said it was Ok, just let you do that, until your lungs re-inflated.

"It scared me half to death. You wouldn't wake up, and they called for an ambulance, and then a fire truck showed up. It was a circus out in the yard, and all the neighbors came over to watch the show. Of course, none of them were around when that bastard tried to kill us.

"I'm so sorry, David. At sixteen, you didn't deserve to be attacked by an insane alcoholic with a persecution complex. We'll get through this. You'll see. Let's just get you home, let you heal back up, and get on with your life. Oh, my gosh – your Birthday! We need to celebrate your Birthday!" She had told me so much, without telling me much in the way of facts. I needed to

tell her I had no memory as soon as she got me to her house.

The car pulled up in front of a modestly nice, one-story, concrete block home. As everyone piled out to head inside, I touched her arm and motioned for her to wait for a minute. She gave me a perplexed look, but complied.

"I didn't want to say anything in front of the girls, but I have absolutely no memory. I don't know your name, our last name, where we live, where or if, I go to school. You said the names of the girls, Joan and Jill, or I wouldn't even know that. AND, I don't know who is Joan or who is Jill. I might as well have been born when I woke up in the hospital bed. There's nothing at all in my head. Nothing." Hey, it worked with Beth Ann. It made sense to stick with what was successful.

"When the doctor came in, he never asked me how I was, and talked non-stop until he left. Other than to listen, I might as well have been a statue. But – I don't want to be a psychologist's toy. People talk about temporary amnesia all the time, and that's got to be what's happened to me. So PLEASE don't say anything to anyone other than the girls, and let's see if this heals itself. Ok?

She looked deep into my eyes, looking for the truth, and must have made up her mind that I wasn't lying. "He hit you in the head, then threw you through the sliding glass door head first. It probably did rattle your cage awfully hard. I swear to you, David. If he permanently hurt you, I will go to that jail and beat him to death with a high heeled shoe, in front of the damned sheriff and a pot full of deputies!"

She was so mad, it never occurred to her to question me. I was off the hook. I turned my gaze on her and asked, "What's your first name?"

Before the full weight of my question hit her, she said, "Carol."

Not giving her a chance to think again, I asked, "What's our last name? Where do we live? What kind of person am I? Do I have friends, or girlfriends? Am I a jock, a nerd, or a head? Do I have a driver's license?

"You need to love me enough to understand. I know NOTHING. We can go in, now. But later you have to help me. You need to tell me who I am. Please?"