Just So You Know...

 

Heyo, guys~! Just a small breakaway from my posts to give you a short announcement that I have imported some of the old creepypasta I collected and posted on past blogs into here, and they were sorted out via date published, so you might have to browse the archive by clicking on the right side bar and check out stories that you haven't read yet in the past years posts.

Also, I've been experimenting and playing around with ChatGPT for fun, and I thought it should have a blog of its own instead of it being cluttered into this blog and be lost into the ethers of time. So if you're interested to read it, feel free to click on the picture at the bottom to go check stories and poems and other forms of literature that I have been collaborating with ChatGPT. Hope you'll enjoy!

My Wife Has Always Hated Halloween. Now I Know The Horrifying Reason Why

  

Phoebe has always hated Halloween.

Even back when we were dating—she never came to any Halloween parties with me. I have a cold. I have a headache. I ate something bad. After we got married and moved into the suburbs, she wouldn’t even join me handing out candy to trick-or-treaters. I’m going to sleep, she’d say, even though it was only 6 o’clock. She'd even ask me to leave the house because I was "making too much noise."

I let it slide… until Anthony was born.

”Come on. We have to go trick-or-treating.” Anthony was dressed up as the cutest little pumpkin—only 8 months old. He smiled as I bounced him in my arms, looking out the door into the night.

“I’m really not feeling well,” Phoebe replied, lingering on the stairs.

“You seemed fine ten minutes ago.”

“Well, I don’t feel well now.”

“I don’t believe you.” It was mean, but I was annoyed. She’d given me the same excuses for eight Halloweens in a row. It wasn’t coincidence.

She didn’t deny it—just looked past me, into the night.

“Why do you hate Halloween? Is it because your parents were so strict? I know you weren’t allowed to trick-or-treat, growing up…”

“Can’t you just take Anthony alone?”

“I want to go as a family.”

She glanced again at the darkness gathering outside. Then she pressed her lips into a thin line. “I’m sorry. But I don't feel good.”

A heavy silence settled between us.

She came down the stairs. Wrapped her arms around both of us, and patted Anthony softly on the head. “I love you both. Have fun tonight.”

From the way her voice slightly wavered, I could’ve sworn she was on the verge of tears. But she turned away, and in a flash of dark hair, she was already upstairs.

The same dance happened over and over again, every year. Anthony was soon wearing Mutant Ninja Turtles and Star Wars costumes instead of pumpkins, but Phoebe still refused to go trick-or-treating with us. Every year we had the same discussion. I asked her to come. She insisted that she was feeling ill. She went upstairs to our bedroom and locked the door. Anthony and I headed out onto the sidewalk, candy bucket swinging.

Except, on the evening of Halloween 2021, we came home early.

Anthony had tripped and skinned his knee. So less than an hour after we left we were hobbling home. As we rounded the bend onto Maple Ave., I saw that the light in our room was on.

Phoebe hadn’t “gone to sleep” like she said she was.

I helped Anthony with the wound, set him up in front of the TV, and then charged upstairs. I was mad. She must’ve heard us come home, must’ve heard Anthony crying in the kitchen—and she didn’t even come down to check on us? Whether her aversion to Halloween was psychological, or some sort of moral religious thing, it had to stop.

But as I got to the top of the stairs, I froze.

Phoebe’s voice was coming from our room.

She was talking to someone.

I tiptoed to the door and pressed my ear against it. I couldn’t make out what she was saying—but her voice was low, fast, soft. Like she was trying not to be heard.

My body went cold. I turned the doorknob—but it was locked.

“Phoebe! Let me in!”

The light coming from under the door went out.

“I know you’re in there,” I shouted.

Seconds ticked by. A clatter sounded from behind the door. Then, finally, it opened.

Phoebe darted out, quickly closing the door behind her. She looked significantly worse than just an hour ago, her skin was pale and deep bags under her eyes. “You shouldn’t be home this early,” she whispered.

“Who’s in there with you?”

“No one.” She glanced back at the closed door. “You and Anthony need to get out of here. Now.”

“What’s going on?”

“Mike—”

She was cut off by a soft thump.

Someone was knocking on our bedroom door.

Something about the knocks made my whole body go cold. They were slow, methodical—like the person on the other side had all the time in the world.

“Who’s in there?” I whispered.

She glanced back at the door again, her eyes wide. “Do you remember the time I got a really bad asthma attack? I told you about it when we first started dating. How I was in the hospital for weeks, how I almost died.”

Thump… thump…

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“I should’ve died. But I didn’t. And now—every Halloween—I have to give it some of my life, in payment.”

Without another word, she pushed the door open.

In the center of the darkened room stood a towering form. Black robes hung off its thin frame, trailing on the ground. A large jack-o’-lantern sat on its shoulders, its eyes flickering amber, the mouth cut into a wide grin. The only parts of its body visible were its hands—long, gray, bone-thin fingers that ended in sharp nails.

It stood in the center of the room, absolutely still.

Phoebe turned away from me. She walked towards the thing, her legs shaking underneath her. The jack-o’-lantern raised a bony finger and touched her forehead.

And then it crumpled into a mass of black fabric at her feet.

Phoebe turned around. Her mouth stretched into a wide grin as her eyes locked on mine. Then she stepped toward me, emitting a horrible, guttural laugh.

I ran out of the bedroom.

“Anthony!” I shouted. Finding him still in front of the TV, I grabbed him and ran outside. We leapt into the car and peeled out of the driveway. In the rearview mirror, I could see her—its—silhouette in the upstairs window.

Watching us. 

---

Credits

I Think My Wife Is Faking Her Amnesia (Part 6) [FINALE]

 

Evan continued to grow in my arms. My urge to hold onto him, to protect him, struggled against my growing fear and revulsion as I felt his body shift and expand, growing large and heavy enough to slide out of my grasp and thump softly to the floor. I started to reach out to him again, but something in me recoiled at the idea of touching him. With everything going on, could I even be sure this was my son anymore?

So instead, I took a step back as a hissing orange glow blossomed out in the hallway. It was the thing that looked like Cody carrying a lit gas lantern into the room. The light cast shifting shadows as the lantern shifted and swayed with her steps, making the room and the woman look vaguely sinister in the ever-dancing dark. Meeting her eyes, I saw she was smiling at me.

“It’s hard, isn’t it? You may think I don’t understand, but I do. You’re confused and afraid, and a part of you wants to just run away. Be safe. Another part feels guilty though. Because wouldn’t you be abandoning your family?”

I wanted to deny what she was saying, but how could I? I glanced down at Evan, at what should have been Evan. The thing on the floor was naked and the size of a man, curled up in a kneeling, rocking ball. Bending down to try and see the thing’s face, I sucked in a breath. It was all run together. The arms and legs weren’t just folded up tight, but were flowing together like some kind of melted clay. I couldn’t make out a face, but how could this be human, let alone my little boy? Heart hammering, I took another step back and turned to glare at the creature that looked like Cody.

“What did you do with my son?”

Coming within a few feet, she sat the lantern down on the floor and gave me a smirk. “That’s your son there.”

I shook my head. “That’s a fucking lie. That’s a monster. You’re both monsters.”

She shrugged. “That’s very subjective, you know. But your son is very special. Chosen, if you will.”

“Chosen for what?”

She frowned slightly. “Again, the answer to that will vary depending on who is asked. Some would call him an Outsider—a monster to be hunted and killed. Others, an ascendant being worthy of being worshipped. Those that put the seed of potential in him…well, they have other plans. But to me, he is just one thing. A way to escape. A means of survival.”

I stared at her. “What does any of that mean? Who are you?”

Slipping her hand into her pocket, she pulled out something large and shiny. It took me a moment in the flickering light to recognize it. The key that Evan had thrown up before. “It’s easier to show you, I think. The time has come.” Bending down swiftly, she drove the key into his neck. I started forward with a yell, but it was too late. The key had sunk bloodlessly into the thing she claimed was my son and was gone before I could reach them.

Blinking and shaken, I stumbled back. “What…what is this? This can’t be real.”

Chuckling, she gave me a glance as she traced a large rectangle on the broad back of the now-shuddering shape beneath her. “Reality is overrated. And it has very little to do with the true nature of things.”

My voice shook as I watched her finish the shape and step back. “What’ve you done?”

Her eyes found mine again. “Found a door to my prison and turned the key.”

New light flared to life, a thin but growing line of sickly green light that oozed from the line she’d drawn in the thing…in Evan’s…back. I felt my mind give a dangerous shudder as I took a step forward, attracted and repulsed by the impossibility before me.

I was no longer looking at that strange, broad back or even abstracted lines of green, cancerous light. Now I was looking out onto a field of dying sunflowers lit by an orange and emerald sky. In the distance, I saw the dark, hulking shape of a house, fingers of smoke trailing off of it as though it had been through a fire, its skin the dark grey and black of ash. I was so transfixed by that terrible place that it took me a moment before I registered the movement closer by—the swift nodding and crumbling of sunflower heads as something crawled toward the open gateway.

Letting out a startled cry, I stumbled back even as a long-fingered pale hand pushed out of the opening and grasped the thing on the floor’s back. This was followed by a second hand and then a cold but beautiful grime-covered face—not that of a woman but of something both less and more. There was a delicate precision and perfection to her features that was accentuated by the dirt and soot covering the naked form pulling itself out onto the floor of the room, though I realized as I took it all in that some of the marks weren’t dirt, but spiderwebs of cracks at some of the joints as well as the thing’s lips and eyes.

Those terrible eyes found me for a moment and then swung away to where Cody…the thing that looked like Cody…was kneeling down and extending her own hands as she spoke to me.

“It may be hard for you to understand, but is the…” The two figures reached for each other like twin sides of a reflection, intertwining their fingers. The speaking Cody-thing gave a spasmic shudder and then she was gone, a softer, deeper feminine voice finishing the thought.

“real me.”

She met my eyes as she finished pulling herself through the portal, and as she cleared it, the thing that once looked like my son gave a gasping shudder from somewhere inside that running flesh as the doorway closed and the back became a back once more. I glanced toward the door, my body tensing to run, when I saw her shake her head slightly.

“No. Not yet. I can’t let you leave until this is finished. And I think you know I can stop you.”

I trembled. “I just want to go. Please let me leave.”

A smile played at the corner of her lips, now free of cracks or blemishes. “And abandon your child?” She chuckled. “Or have you decided this isn’t your son anymore? That is more convenient, isn’t it?”

Glaring at her, I shook my head and pointed at the shivering shape on the floor. “That thing can’t be Evan.”

She gave a small shrug. “As you like. Whatever you call him, he’s exceedingly rare. Even among those that have a seed, most never awaken to it. And to find one that can create a doorway? Usually happens once a generation, and the last one died just last year. She was an exceptionally talented little girl, but I couldn’t find her in time. Escape for me only truly became an option more recently.”

Swallowing, I tried to weigh my options. I could try to run or fight her, but I didn’t doubt her ability to stop me. I could try talking to her, either to convince her to let me go or turn Evan back or something, but what could I say to this monster that I didn’t even understand? Lowering my eyes, I stepped back to the wall and slid down to the floor. All my bones felt too heavy now, and my mind felt fragile, brittle somehow. I should have just stayed quiet, but instead I heard myself asking something.

“What are you?”

There was a small sigh and then, “There’s no real word for what I am or even what I was.” I saw her rest her hand on the thing’s back out of the corner of my eye. “But there are a few minutes still before he can be of use again, so I don’t mind telling you a small story. Perhaps it will help you understand.”

When I said nothing, she began.

---

Once there was a thing that looked like a man. He wasn’t a man, and he hadn’t always looked like one, but when I first saw him, he looked like an older gentleman named Richard Murphy. And I saw him for the first time the moment I was born.

He had fashioned me from a medical learning dummy, a manikin, and brought me to life with a portion of the raw magic that he used and was. I think I began as a tool and experiment, but over time I became a companion and a servant. I loved him once, before I knew him well.

As I learned and grew, I became more real. I had my own ideas and drives, and a hunger for more than I knew. For a time, I had a family. The man’s granddaughter and her father became my responsibility, and in my way, I loved them, even as I kept them in a prison of Richard’s making. I was their guard, but I was also a prisoner myself, and I fulfilled both roles very well.

But the thing that made me has many enemies, and some of those enemies, too weak to destroy him, sought to trap him instead. Even though he had taken the form of another, younger man, they found him and burned the house with us all inside. I tried to get them out, but something kept us bound to that place no matter how hard I tried to escape. I watched the girl I’d come to think of as my own cook to death in front of me.

Seeing that…I wanted to die too. But no. My maker is too clever. He could not pull us out, so he pulled everything, including the house, somewhere outside the world. Dreamed us a small dream filled with sky and earth and sunflowers while he made his plans to be free again. He is terribly smart and patient, and in time, he got exactly what he wanted. A beautiful Lark that gave him the power to escape that place once and for all.

Despite the strangeness of my nature, I am in many ways my father’s daughter. I’ve known for some time that he would abandon me in a moment if it suited his needs, and so I’ve worked to find a way to free myself from not only that place but from him and the leash that held me for as long as I’d been alive.

When he would send me out into the world, I would learn what I could. Touch what I could. Gather those scraps of knowledge and power that he cast away because his own reservoirs of both were so great that it went unnoticed. I tried various forms of suffering and sacrifice to gather enough magic to survive when I was left on my own. Mirrors and midnight rituals. Dopplegangers infiltrating a hundred lives and sewing seeds of terror and pain and death. I’ve never had the same thirst for such things as my maker, but I appreciate their power and utility, and I will use them as I must to survive.

---

She patted the thing’s back. “I think it’s ready.” Using a delicate finger, she began to trace the borders of a door across its flesh again. “This will end it, I think. He’s just not as strong as the Emily girl was.” The manikin frowned slightly. “This will be meaningless to you, but I really don’t have a choice. If I stay here, he’ll just find me again. I have to go where he won’t follow.”

“Fuck you and your apologies. What have you done to Evan? And where’s my wife?”

Her eyes flashed for a moment. “Don’t mistake my sympathy for regret. I’m not apologizing for what I’ve done. Just explaining that your suffering, the suffering of your family, is necessary and not arbitrary cruelty.”

I snorted. “Just necessary cruelty.”

She smirked. “Exactly. I needed Evan. Needed time to prepare him. And I needed your fear and pain to feed me long enough to make this all possible. And for that I am grateful.”

“What did you do with my wi…oh God.”

His back had opened again, and standing up slowly, I could see the edge of a chamber filled with black and crimson marble. I glanced at the manikin and saw a troubled expression on her face. Was that fear?

“What is it?”

She looked at me with a frown. “Not where I expected to enter, but I don’t have the time or energy to try again.” The mound of flesh holding the portal was starting to shift and collapse even as she said that last. Eyes widening, she lunged forward and began to crawl through the doorway.

Something flared up in me—some combination of insane anger and fear. No, she wasn’t going to leave like this. Take everything from me, destroy my family and just escape? I dove at her, grabbing her legs even as she began to pull them through the gateway and onto the dark marble floor.

“Tell me! Where is my family? Where is Cody?”

She kicked me off easily, sending me sliding across the floor with white-hot chest pain that left me gasping as I tried to crawl back toward her. Fully in that other place now, she looked out at me for a moment, her expression slightly sad.

“Go to where the accident happened. Into the woods there. Look for water where there should be none.”

A deep voice intoned from that other place, making the woman-thing jump.

“Welcome to the Nightlands. I am called the Baron. What are you called?”

She turned and stood gracefully, offering a strange bow. She had never showed any sign of self-consciousness in her nakedness since crawling out of that other place, but now she looked not only embarrassed, but terrified.

“I am Mariso…”

And then the door was gone, the thing that might have once been my son sinking into a spasming pile of ruined meat that began to split and ooze as I looked on in silent horror. I stared at his remains for a few minutes, not quite daring to touch them but afraid to look away, telling myself over and over that it was not him and never quite convincing myself.

When I finally made myself move, I didn’t stop moving. I ran outside, got in the car, and began driving to where Cody hit the tree.

---

I called Jesse and asked him for directions out to the exact place he’d found the car. He didn’t ask why, but he did ask if I was okay. I didn’t know what to tell him, so I told him the truth. No, I wasn’t okay. But I needed to see where it all happened. He offered to come meet me out there, but I told him no. It was something I needed to do by myself.

His directions were good and I found the spot fairly easily. There was the tree at the edge of the road, just like she’d said.

Cody: Drove into a ditch. Hit a tree. Fucking stupid. Think a tire blew out. About to get out and check the car and then call wrecker. Am okay. I’ll call in a bit. Love you.

My stomach twisted, growing cold as I saw the small piles of dark mud scattered around nearby. They stood out in sharp relief from the normal dirt in the area, and as I looked around for more, I saw a faint but perceptible trail of the strange filth leading back into the woods.

But why? Had something come out of the woods? Or had Cody gone in for some reason? Why would she?

Cody: I think I see me.

Oh God.

I follow the trail of black earth back through the trees. There are a couple of times I almost lose sight of it in shadows, but then I see it again and continue on. Minutes pass as my breath becomes more labored and my heartbeat tightens into the steady rhythm of my growing terror and dread. What am I going to find out here? Her alive and safe? Just asleep? Of course not. I’ll find nothing or worse. And I’d be better off if…

The trail led to a giant dead tree.

The roots of the tree were massive, reaching far out of the ground and elevating the bottom of the trunk three feet or more off the ground. I had the thought that maybe it was caused by massive erosion, but I dismissed the idea swiftly. This wasn’t a normal tree. It…none of it…was right. And I somehow knew the trail ended there.

Barely able to breathe, I took out my phone and shakily turned on its light before heading between the roots of the tree. The interlocked network of wood and leaves had gaps big enough to pass through, and underneath there was an open space at least three feet tall and ten feet across. Nothing but sandy colored dirt punctuated by small piles of the darker stuff. No signs of Cody or that she’d been there at all. Just bare dirt and…The thought fled as water hit my hand.

I looked up into Cody’s staring grey face. She was floating in water, a massive pool somehow floating against the ceiling to this bottom chamber of the tree. I barely even registered the impossibility of what I was seeing anymore. All I saw was her, and I drove my hands upward, plunging into the warm water I found there and placing my palms against her cold cheeks. I already knew she was dead. How could she not be dead, after all? This wasn’t about saving her. It was about not abandoning her in some strange, dark place where that other thing had left her.

Pulling her forward, she came without resistance, the water running down my arms before finally bursting, sending Cody falling the rest of the way into my arms. I think I was crying by that point, but everything was wet and painful and all I could do was rock her in my arms and try to keep this memory of the last time I had or did anything that would matter. I would get her out of this place, and after that I didn’t care what ha-

“S-Steve?”

I blinked and looked down to see Cody looking up at me. “Ohh…oh God. Cody? Can you hear me?”

She coughed wetly and gave a small nod. “Yeah. I just…I feel weird. Was I drowning?”

Sobbing, I gave her a hug. “I think maybe so. But I’ve got you now. I’ve got you.”

---

That was three days ago. Cody’s coming home from the hospital tomorrow. Aside from some water in her lungs and slight signs of malnutrition, they can’t find anything much wrong with her. Even her memory is intact.

For the most part, at least. I asked her that first night about what happened after the accident. She says she remembers texting me the first time and then calling for a tow truck. She’d just hung up with them when she thought she saw someone looking at her from behind a tree. Cody stopped there for a minute, a look of bewildered fear coming to her face at the memory.

“I think she looked like me.”

I nodded. “You texted me something like that.”

She frowned. “I don’t remember that really, but I remember getting out and calling to her, and then something about her making me very afraid. Wait, there was a man. A man had come up in a truck and suddenly that woman…she was naked…she had run past me. I think she hurt him. I remember hearing him scream.” Tears sprang to her eyes. “I was so scared. I tried to get back in the car, but she came in through the window. I think she…stuck her hand down my mouth? I don’t know. I just remember knowing I was going to die and never see you or Evan again and then everything was gone.” I went and sat next to her, rubbing her shaking shoulders. “Did that really happen?”

I tell her parts over the next three days. About what had happened and how much time had passed. About how the thing that had looked like her was gone, and as far as I knew, so was our son. I kept expecting her to get afraid or angry at me. Accuse me of lying or hurting Evan or something else. But she never did. Last night, I finally asked her why.

“I think I was still connected to her, somehow. She was using parts of me to make the thing that pretended to be me, and that let me…I don’t know…dream parts of what was happening. Enough to know what you say happened is true.” She buried her face in her hands. “Enough to know I don’t want to remember any more than I already do.”

I stopped asking questions after that.

Tomorrow we leave here, but we don’t really go home. I’ve already reported Evan missing and given my statement to police. I’ve also gone and packed up some things, and we’re going to be living in a rental until we find a new place. Too many memories and bad things are tied to that house now, and if we’re ever going to be happy again, we need a fresh start.

It may sound like we’re running away, and I guess we are. But we need a way to escape. To forget. And by forgetting, maybe survive. And if we’re lucky?

The things that haunt us will never find us again. 

---

Credits

 

I Think My Wife Is Faking Her Amnesia (Part 5)

 

“Get away from him.”

Her smile widened. “What’s wrong, honey?”

Stepping forward, I grabbed Evan under the armpits and started to pick him up. He even felt heavier and bigger than he had before. What had she d-

“You’re acting strange. And you’re not taking my son anywhere when you’re like this.” Her hand was suddenly on my arm, painfully tight and twisting my right hand away as I tried to pick Evan up. Grimacing, I yanked my arm away and gave her a shove.

“Stay the fuck away from me. You’re not Cody.” Glaring at her, I shook my head. “I don’t know who or what you are, but I know you’re not her.”

“Stop it, Steve. Don’t hit me again. Leave us alone!” Her voice had gotten louder and higher as she spoke, breaking into a tremulous falsetto. Her expression had never changed from that mocking smile, her eyes doll bright and staring as she got to her feet.

I stared at her. “What the fuck? I didn’t…” The air was knocked out of me as she suddenly pushed me hard enough in the chest that I stumbled several steps back, and before I could recover, she had shoved me again, this time sending me sprawling into the hall before slamming the door shut behind me. I caught myself against the far wall from falling and immediately went back to the door, but it was locked. Banging on it loudly, I yelled for her to open up and give me Evan. She didn’t respond to me, but I could hear her talking to someone on the other side of the door.

“…my husband. He’s gone crazy or something. I think he…oh God, I think he might hurt me or our little boy. Please hurry.”

---

(Partial transcript of Miltry v. Miltry hearing on issues of temporary custody, temporary protective order, and modification of the family safety plan)

Brown (Plaintiff’s Attorney): Mr. Miltry, why do you think you should be allowed back into the home with my client and Evan?

S. Miltry: Because…um, well, because they’re my family. And I love them. We should be together.

Brown: No one is doubting that you love them, but I think we’re all concerned about what might happen if you’re back home before it’s safe. Before you’re safe to be around.

S. Miltry: But I heard her…I heard Cody say that she wanted me back home so long as I promised to keep taking the meds I’ve been prescribed and going to my court ordered counseling. She said that this morning.

Brown: Mmmhmm. She did. Because she loves you too. But we also heard her recording of when you attacked her. And the judge there has to look at everything, not just what she wants or you want, but what’s best for you both and for your little boy.

S. Miltry: I know that. But what’s best for my boy is for me to be there for him.

Brown: Let’s talk about some of that. Your attorney kind of glossed over the details, but let’s delve a bit deeper into why we’re here. Because let’s remember, two weeks ago when 911 was called, you thought you were being there for Edward then, didn’t you?

S. Miltry: His name is Evan.

Brown: (Laughter) Sorry, sorry. Lots of clients. I misspoke. But you thought you were being there for him, didn’t you? When you attacked your wife?

S. Miltry: I didn’t…look, I don’t consider what I did an attack. I was just trying to leave the room with Evan because I was worried about what was going on.

Brown: You were worried that your wife was some kind of imposter, right? Or maybe some kind of clone or monster?

S. Miltry: I…I’ve talked to the doctors about it. And I understand that I had what they’re calling a psychotic break. It made me confused and paranoid and scared. So yes, I had weird thoughts and worries about her at the time. But I’m better now.

Brown: Well, and we all hope you are better now. But this wasn’t something that just popped up that day, was it?

S. Miltry: Um, no, the doctors said that…

Brown: And in fact…

Willis: Objection, your Honor. If my client can be allowed to finish his response.

Brown: He was finished with his response and was about to launch into inadmissible hearsay regarding what doctors told him.

Court: Overruled, but do let him explain his response if he can do so from his personal knowledge. Do you need to explain your answer further, Mr. Miltry?

S. Miltry: Um, no, I don’t guess so. I don’t know.

Brown: Well, let me see if I can help you out. Isn’t it true that for several weeks you’ve harbored delusions that your wife wasn’t really the same person anymore? That she had been replaced during this car accident back in September?

S. Miltry: I…you have to understand, we’ve had a lot going on. It’s been stressful. And a lot of this has been taken out of context and blown out of proportion.

Brown: So when your own mother testified this morning that you’d told her about your concerns, that you’d actually asked her if my client seemed like the same person, that wasn’t because you had these delusions?

S. Miltry: No, I guess it was. But I’d been talking to Jesse, and he was telling me all this stuff and I could tell that he was concerned too and…

Brown: Sorry, but which Jesse are you referring to?

S. Miltry: The guy from the wrecker service. Um, Wright Wrecking Service.

Brown: Oh yes. I think you initially told the police and evaluating doctor that this Jesse, this random guy who befriended you after towing your wife’s car, had told you some ghost story about his own family, right?

S. Miltry: I mean, not exactly, but yeah. And he got the detective to check the fingerprint, but…listen, none of that matters now.

Brown: Ah, okay. What about your other bizarre claims? That your child was growing abnormally large? That he had vomited up some strange key? Do they matter?

S. Miltry: I understand that I was going through a hard time and got confused. I know they checked Evan and he seemed normal and healthy. That it was all in my head, for whatever reason. And I’m very sorry to my…wife and family for all I’ve put them through. I just want to be with them again.

Brown: I see. So you’ve put all this nonsense behind you?

S. Miltry: Yes, sir. I have.

Brown: And the woman at this table, who is she?

S. Miltry: She…She’s the mother of my child and my wife. And I love her very much.

---

The next day, I was allowed to move back home. I’d talked to my parents the night before, and while they were apologetic for testifying for Cody, they explained that they were doing it for all of our sakes. That everyone was there for me and would help me get through whatever problems I had. I told them the same stuff I’d said in court. That I knew I was messed up and that none of my fears were true.

For his part, Jesse had offered to come testify at the hearing if it would help, but I didn’t see how it would. If I kept calling her a monster or an imposter, they’d never let me near Evan again, and I might wind up getting sent back to the hospital where I’d spent several days already. So I told them what they wanted to hear, and it worked.

Cody was pleasant enough when I got back home. Normal acting, even, though she was a bit standoffish and I was sleeping in the guest bedroom. Evan, while still more quiet and solitary than he’d been before Cody’s accident, didn’t seem abnormal or overly strange. By the end of the week, surrounded by relative normalcy, I started to doubt myself. What if the things I was just paying lip service to were actually true? I thought what I’d seen and heard was the truth, but wouldn’t I think that if I was crazy? And even if it was just a temporary “episode”, wouldn’t I still have memories of what I believed and why? How could I be sure that I really hadn’t gone through some kind of breakdown?

That self-doubt eroded my sense of purpose. Initially, I’d planned on taking Evan and running, even if it meant going into hiding until I could get this all sorted out. But every day I’d find excuses to wait. To give it more time, to make sure before I did something that I couldn’t take back. Evan did seem okay. And I saw no signs of her being cruel to him or to me, did I? So maybe I was wrong.

Then on my fifth day back, I heard Evan singing a nursery rhyme.

He was alone in his room—that’s where he stayed most of the time now—drawing something intently with the colored pencils I’d bought him during the summer. When I walked up to his door, he didn’t seem to notice, never pausing in his drawing as he softly repeated the same verses under his breath.

Come to me. Come to me. You are invited by word and deed.

Come to me. Come to me. By this offering, will you be freed.

Come to me. Come to me. Wards are mist and chains are rust.

For there is only one of us.

My breath stopped as I listened carefully to him repeating the words a second time and then a third. The droning cadence never changed, and I realized it was less a song or rhyme than it was a chant.
Chest tightening, I crept further into the room and looked over his shoulder at what he was making. Taking it in, my confused astonishment began to curdle into horror. The drawing was impossibly detailed—far beyond what he, or any other small child, should have been able to draw:

An open door, and on the other side, a black house surrounded by an endless field of sunflowers.

Tongue thick in my mouth, I forced myself to speak. “Evan? Buddy? What’re you drawing there?”

When he looked up, his hand never stopped filling in the shadows on the porch of that dark house. Giving me a little laugh, he shrugged. “It’s me, Daddy.” He wiped at his nose with his free hand. “I’m drawing the real me.”

“How…I don’t understand, son. How is that you?”

Evan wiped at his nose again, and as I watched, a small red beetle pushed its way out of his nostril. I let out a terrified scream and reached to brush it away, but it fell and scuttled off before I could catch it. Grabbing the boy’s head, I turned it this way and that, looking up his nose and into his ears.

“Evan? What was that? Do you feel anything else in you, sweetie?”

He just stared at me smiling, his hand still absently but accurately drawing until I pushed the paper away. This turned his smile into a mild frown, but he said nothing at first. I held him, crying softly for a moment, trying to decide what to do. It was then that he pulled closer to me and whispered in my ear.

“I feel it coming back again.”

Suddenly the lights went out, plunging the house into darkness. In my arms, it felt as though Evan’s body changed, growing heavier and larger than just a second before. His skin felt cold now, and though it was impossible, I thought I could feel it stretching tighter under my hand.

“Wha…what the fuck…”

From the direction of the doorway, I heard Cody’s voice from across the dark.

“I think it’s time.”

---

Credits

 

I Think My Wife Is Faking Her Amnesia (Part 4)

 

I sped all the way home, and once I got there, I fought to keep from running into the house. I had to act normal, whether there was something wrong or not. And what real evidence did I have that anything was wrong? A creepy story from a tow truck driver and a muddy fingerprint that was probably my wife’s? I gave my head a small shake as I unlocked the front door. Time to get my shit together and act like everything was fine unless and until I was sure it wasn’t.

Walking into the house, I heard my parents and Cody talking in the living room. Their voices sounded relaxed and cheerful, and I felt myself calm down a little as I stepped around the corner and said hello. My parents were sitting on the sofa and Cody was in one of the recliners nearby, while Evan was sitting on the floor playing with a group of robot action figures, his face drawn down into a concentrated frown. When he looked up and saw me, his face lit up and he ran over to give me a big hug.

“Hey, buddy. We sure have missed you.” I pulled back and gave him a grin. “Did you have a good time with Granny and Grandpa?”

He nodded and looked like he was about to say something when Mom spoke up. “We loved having him. Took him to see Todd’s horses down the road and he loved that. Another week and we would have bought him a pony.”

I laughed and gave Evan a playful frown. “You know, when I was growing up, I wanted a horse, but they always told me no. Looks like you’ve got ‘em where you want them.”

He smiled slightly, but it didn’t last but a moment. My frown turned more genuine.

“You okay? Feeling okay?”

Cody spoke up. “He’s probably hungry. I’ll go fix us some lunch.” Dad stood up and offered to help her, and a moment later they were gone in the direction of the kitchen. I glanced at Mom and then at Evan. “Go play with your bots for a minute up in your room, okay? I want to talk to your grandma. I’ll get you when lunch is ready.”

He looked at me uncertainly for a moment and then he grabbed up his toys and left. I saw Mom’s confused expression, but I waited until I felt like Evan was out of earshot before I went over and spoke to her in a quiet voice.

“Sorry, I just wanted to talk to you about Cody for a second.”

She frowned and gave a slow nod. “Okay. Is everything all right? The doctors haven’t found something bad, have they?”

I shook my head. “No, no, nothing like that. They still don’t have any real answers, but nothing bad has come up.” I sighed. “I just…how does she seem to you and Dad? Does she seem like herself?”

Her frown deepened as she seemed to ponder the question. “Well, I mean she told us about the amnesia—which you should have told us that already, by the way, but I think I understand why you didn’t. She said she remembers us, but its spotty. And I mean, sure she seems a bit different. Quieter and more reserved, probably. But isn’t that to be expected given everything?”

I nodded. “Sure, sure. Yeah, you’re right. Of course you are.” Pausing, I tried to stop myself from asking the next question, but I couldn’t help it. “But I mean…it seems like her, doesn’t it?”

She quirked an eyebrow at me. “Listen, I know this is hard on you too, but you need to be supportive of her, okay? Maybe she’s not exactly like she was, but think of all she’s been through…and is still going through. I can’t imagine how scary losing your memory like that must be.” Mom jabbed a finger at me. “But you need to suck it up and be strong for her. Patient. In time she’ll come back to herself more, but you have to let it happen on her terms.”

“I mean, yeah, of course. That’s not really what I…”

“Lunch is almost ready.” I looked up to see Cody leaning in the doorway. Had she heard what we were saying? If she did, her face didn’t show it, and she seemed preoccupied looking around. “Where’s Evan?”

Swallowing, I gave her a smile. “Up in his room playing. I’ll go get him.” She was still watching me as I stood up and headed into the hall, but by the time I made it to the stairs she was back talking to Mom about lunch. Normal stuff. Everything seemed normal, except for me.

When I went into Evan’s room, I saw he was curled up on the bed, staring out into the hall. His eyes widened as I came in, and before I could get out that it was time for lunch, he was off the bed and back to me, hugging me again.

“Hey, sweetie. It’s good to see you too. They’ve got lunch just about ready downstairs. Let’s go on down.”

He looked up at me, his face crumpling a little. “I don’t wanna.”

“Huh? Why not?”

“It’s not right.”

Pulling him back a little more, I studied his face, trying to understand what he meant. “What’s not right, Evan?”

His lip trembled slightly. “Mommy. She doesn’t smell right.”

---

I convinced my parents to stay a few more days to visit and help out, and while Cody didn’t seem happy about it, she didn’t overly complain either. I didn’t say anything else to Mom or Dad about my concerns, but I did stress to them that I didn’t want Evan left alone with her, as I didn’t want her “tiring herself out”. They agreed, and for the next couple of days, everything was…well, if not normal, at least fairly calm and quiet. Cody got along with my parents as well or better than she ever had, and while Evan was still very standoffish with her, she never commented on it or tried to force the issue.

For my part, I kept trying to let my strange worries go, but I just couldn’t. I tried to tell myself it was just the mystery of the accident and the stress of everything that had followed, and that if I could get more answers, I’d be satisfied and able to move on. Cody went to her first follow-up exam, and everything went fine. They did more bloodwork and another MRI, but it would be a few more days before we heard anything new from the medical side of things. That left the accident itself.

I started wondering if there had been any type of police investigation of the accident or even the missing Robbie. I didn’t want to let Cody know I was still asking questions, so I called around myself. The best I could find was a state trooper’s accident report which didn’t go into any detail I didn’t already know. I tried to ask about the Robbie guy, but I didn’t even have a last name, and I could already tell they weren’t willing to give out random information to whoever, if he’d ever been reported missing in the first place. So, out of other options, I slipped out to my car and called Jesse again.

---

“Hey, Jesse. Steve Miltry.”

“Oh, yeah. Hey Steve.”

“You got a minute to talk?”

His voice sounded slightly wary when he answered. “Yeah, sure. What’s up?”

“Did that Robbie guy ever show up again? I’d just like to talk to him if he did.”

“No, he never did. In fact, the old man went yesterday and swore out a warrant for him taking the truck. Maybe the cops can find him.”

I let out a sigh. “Yeah, maybe. I just…I wanted to find out more what happened out there, you know? And I don’t think the cops really investigated anything. I thought about carrying this fingerprint…you know, the one I found on the license? I thought about giving it to the cops so they could see if it was my wife’s or if someone else was out there too, but now I don’t know.”

There was a moment of quiet on the line, and then Jesse finally spoke. “I may can get someone to check that for you at least.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, I mean working the wrecker, you get to know cops, right? I have a few I’m buddies with. I can probably get one of them to check it if you want.”

“Really? That’d be awesome. Really great.”

“Sure, man. I…let me ask around and I’ll let you know what they tell me.”

“I really appreciate this. Just…text me when you find out and I’ll call you back as soon as I can.”

I noticed he didn’t question why, but I tried to let it go as I hung up and snuck back into the house. An hour later he texted, and when I called back, he told me the woman he was giving it to needed the license and ideally a sample print from Cody. His voice sounded tense at this last.

“If you can’t do that, it’s cool. She said she can look up her prints from the driver’s license database. Just a clean, confirmed sample on a glass or something is better to double-check everything. But only if you think its…you’re comfortable with that.”

“Um, yeah. I can try. I’ll bring you the stuff tomorrow.”

It wasn’t as hard as I’d thought it’d be. I made it a point of clearing away the dishes that night, having watched Cody handle her drink glass for over half an hour. Quietly sticking it in a plastic bag and sitting it up on a high shelf, I snuck it out the next day on a trip to run “errands”. The main errand, of course, being dropping off the glass and license to Jesse.

When I got back to the house, I noticed my parents’ car was gone.

Going inside, I found Cody and Evan sitting together working on a jigsaw puzzle at the kitchen table. He didn’t even look up when I entered, but she gave me a smile. “Did you get your stuff done?”

I blinked. “Um, yeah. Mostly.”

She frowned slightly. “What were you out doing again?”

Turning away from her gaze, I pretended I needed to wash my hands at the sink. “Oh, just drop some checks in the mail and go by the office to pick up some stuff. Nothing too big.” I tried to keep my voice even. “So where are Mom and Dad?”

She let out a soft chuckle behind me. “Oh, they went home. I told them I was ready for it to be just the three of us again, and they agreed. It was so sweet of them to come and stay like they did. I told them that too.”

I turned back around, leaning against the sink. “Yeah, I mean it was. But are you sure you’re ready to not have the extra help and company? It might help you remember more too.”

She gave a shrug. “I remember the important stuff already.” Reaching over, she swiped a lock of hair off Evan’s forehead as he studied and turned a puzzle piece. To my surprise, he didn’t recoil or even look up. “And I’ve got my family to help me remember.”

I nodded. “Sure. But why did they leave so fast? They couldn’t wait until I got back to go?”

“Your Dad said it was going to be dark if they didn’t go ahead and leave. And it did take you awhile.” Her eyes widened slightly. “Hey, you haven’t seen my glass from last night, have you?”

Swallowing, I shook my head. “Um, no. It…well, it’s probably in the sink or the dishwasher.”

Cody glanced at the sink and back to me. “No, I washed some stuff this morning and it wasn’t there. And the four glasses we used last night were all the same. Now there’s only three of them.” She just stared at me, letting the words hang between us like a shading snake on an overhead bough.

“I…I don’t know. Maybe one of them washed it by hand and put it away.” I forced a laugh. “Or they broke it and were embarrassed. “But I mean, it doesn’t matter does it?”

She smiled at me. “It doesn’t matter to me if it doesn’t to you.”

---

The days crawled by, but every day seemed slightly more normal. I went back to working full-time, and a few days later, so did Cody. Time passed, and the longer things went without anyone else having some issue with Cody, the more embarrassed I felt that I’d spent so much time and energy doubting my wife.

Even Evan, who had seemed so skittish around her at first, had swiftly shifted to clinging to her most of the time. He’d always been his mother’s baby in a lot of ways, but it was even more obvious now. He would talk to me and play with me some if I made him, but for the most part he just wanted to be close to her, and it was rare that he was ever out of Cody’s sight. Still, I wrote it off as them rebonding after time apart and trauma. Nothing nefarious or strange about it in the least.

When my phone rang one morning, I felt my stomach twist as I recognized the number. Glancing around my empty office as though I was committing a crime, I answered the call. “Hey, Jesse.”

“Um, hey. I…well, I got some information for you. Some stuff you’ll want to hear.”

I felt my palm sweating against the back of my phone. “Okay. Go ahead.”

“Well, um, I need the detective that checked those prints to explain it. Can you meet us for lunch today?”

The air seemed thin in my lungs. “I…I’ve got a lot going on today. Can’t you just tell me?”

“Steve, I don’t want to tell you wrong, and I feel like you may need to know what she has to say. Can you meet us?”

“Sure. Yeah, sure I will.”

---

Detective Marisa Somers had a kind, intelligent face weighed down by a kind of heaviness or fatigue I’d seen before in some cops and soldiers. People who had seen too much for too long and were marked by it. When she shook my hand and smiled, it did brighten her face, but only slightly, and her eyes still looked serious and concerned.

“Do you want to order anything or…”

I shook my head. “I just want to know what you found.” I jerked my thumb toward Jesse. “He says you needed to tell me yourself, and I really appreciate all the trouble you two are going to, but please just tell me what’s going on.” I let out a shuddering sigh as I leaned back in my chair on the outdoor patio. “Please.”

Marisa nodded. “I understand. So…okay.” She held up one hand and started ticking off fingers. “I took photos and liftings from the license and the glass. Now bear in mind, none of these prints are perfect. Ideally, you’d like to have twelve or more points of similarity for a trial or something, but something more informal like this, I’d be happy with ten.”

Frowning, I leaned forward. “So was it her print on the license?”

She returned the frown. “I’m getting to that. I just need to explain what I did so you know I’m not full of shit.”

I blinked. “Um, okay.”

She nodded. “Okay. So I took the liftings and photos, and then I focused on the license at first, as that was the big question mark from what Jesse told me. I compared it against the prints on file when your wife got her license. It didn’t appear to match. Then I ran it through IAFIS, which is a national database. No match there. There are other ways to check, but none that I have access to without raising a red flag and putting my own ass at risk.” Marisa furrowed her brow. “So then I checked the dirt print against the glass.”

I felt my mouth going dry. “It matched, didn’t it?”

She met my eyes, her expression strange. “Yeah. It did.”

“So…fuck…so the dirt license print matches her prints now but not the ones from a few years ago? Is that possible? Can they change like that over time?”

Shaking her head, she took in a big breath. “Not generally no, and not without some kind of accident or surgery or something.”

I felt the terror building in my throat as I hissed out my next words. “So she’s not my wife?”

Jesse leaned forward. “Just hold tight, man. Let her finish.”

I looked back at Marisa. “I’m sorry. I just…I don’t understand.”

She nodded. “It’s okay. I didn’t either at first. But something bugged me, so I went back and looked at the three prints again. The ones from when she got her license, the dirt print on the physical license itself, and the ones you got on the glass. That’s when I realized what I’d missed.”

“Every fingerprint is unique, not just because of the different lines and whorls and ridges, but how they fit into the larger pattern of the print. How far one identifing point is from the next, and what angle and position this point is relative to the others, that kind of thing. That’s why I didn’t notice it at first. The print from the DMV and those from the dirt print and the glass are all identical. It’s just the dirt print and glass prints are reversed.”

I shifted my gaze between her and Jesse. “What does that mean? Like are they just upside down or something? Like maybe she was just holding the license or glass weird?”

Marisa shook her head. “No, it doesn’t work like that.” She grabbed a drink napkin as she pulled out a pen. Tearing the napkin in half, she drew a cross on each before writing the numbers one through four in the quarters made by the intersecting lines. “Okay, imagine these are the four quadrants of a fingerprint. One, two, three and four, right? And one has some unique points. So does two. So does three, and so does four. This is like the record of your wife’s prints from the DMV. This is our baseline, okay?”

I nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

She moved over to the other half of the napkin and redrew the numbers, swapping one and two on the top and three and four on the bottom quarters of the cross. “This is what I saw on the dirt print and the glass. The opposite of the first one.” She rotated it upside down and slid it next to the first. “Flipping it upside down doesn’t make it match, because it’s not an inversion of the old print.”

My hand had drifted to my mouth as I stared at the napkins. She was right. One said 1, 2, 3, 4 left to right and top to bottom. Inverted, the other said 3, 4, 1, 2 read the same way. I looked back up at the woman. “What is it then?”

“It’s a reflection.”

---

My mind raced as I made my way home. Jesse and Marisa hadn’t wanted me to leave until I calmed down, but I couldn’t wait. Evan was home with that…with her and whatever was going on, I was going to make sure he was out of the house and safe. And then I was going to get answers, once and for all.

I skidded to a halt in the driveway and started taking the steps two at a time as I raced up the porch and fumbled to unlock the door. Through the door’s glass I saw the lights inside flicker, flare, and then go out. Pushing open the door, I paused, listening for any sound. At first there was none, and closing the door behind me, I tried flipping the hall lights off and on, but nothing happened. Was the power out suddenly?

Just then I heard a sound upstairs. A harsh, wet sound like gagging or retching. Running to the stairs, I started up, calling Evan’s name.

“We’re in here.”

It was Cody…it sounded like Cody’s voice, and it was coming from Evan’s room. Topping the stairs and rounding the corner, I saw her sitting next to him on the floor. His body was still heaving as another spasm of gagging hit him, his back shuddering and…did he look larger than before? It didn’t matter now, I needed to get him to a hospital and away from…

He vomited this time, a grey burst of thick liquid pouring out across the floor, and in the midst of that, some darker, heavier object. The woman that looked like Cody was rubbing his back, crooning something softly to him that at first I took as comfort, but then I realized was praise.

“That’s a good boy. I know it was hard. But you did it. You finally did it.”

Horrified, I took a step into the room. “What did you do to him? What is that?”

She didn’t respond directly, but instead reached forward into the wet filth on the floor, fishing the solid object out with a slimy shake. Turning to me, her smile was wide and her eyes dancing as she held it up between us.

It was a key.

---

Credits

 

I Think My Wife Is Faking Her Amnesia (Part 3)

 

“You think I don’t see who you really are. But I do.”

I looked up from the discharge paperwork to see Cody smiling at me. I’d gone back and tried to talk her out of leaving the hospital yet, but it was no use. She wasn’t rude or angry about it, just firm. She felt like she had given them enough time to do whatever tests they needed to do, and she remembered enough of her life now that she was ready to get back to it and remember the rest. I told her I understood, and I did, but I also held back some of my own doubt and worries. Not just about her memory, but

Is she really your wife?

how leaving before we had more answers might lead to more problems down the line. Not just for her, but for me and Evan. What if

You let a stranger, an invader, into your life? Into your son’s life?

she acted different with Evan and he didn’t understand why? Obviously she couldn’t stay there forever, but would a few more days to give them

me

more time to figure out things be so bad?

But I couldn’t say any of that to her. Not now. And especially not when what I was thinking was so impossible and insane. How could it not be her? What would that even look like? Some kind of body snatcher got her? She was possessed or a clone or something? That wasn’t the way real life worked. She had trauma from all this. Hell, maybe I did too. And it was making us act weird while we got past it. Nothing mysterious or terrible. Just people getting hurt and trying to get back to normal.

So I smiled back at her.

“I hope you do. I hope you know how much I love you. And I’ve only encouraged you to stay longer in the hospital because I want to make sure you’re okay.”

She nodded. “I understand that. I do. But I feel fine physically. And I really am remembering more every day. I think you being here helps a lot, and being home with you and Evan will help even more.”

I felt my heart speed up a little when she mentioned him and I tried to ignore it. “Um, so do you remember him yet?”

She pushed hair behind her ear as she leaned forward on the bed with a concentrated frown. “Maybe a little. It’s kind of like it was with you at first. I can see the place he would be, but I just can’t see him yet.”

I nodded slowly. “But you do remember me now? Like, not just since we’ve been in the hospital or from things you’ve been told, but you remember independent memories from before?”

Her eyes hardened slightly. “I told you I did. That it’s slippery still, but I do remember some. Or don’t you believe me?”

Sitting the paperwork down, I forced myself to go sit next to her on the bed and put my arm around her. “No, I do. I just…I don’t want you pushing yourself too hard. It may take time, and that’s perfectly okay.”

Cody leaned against my chest and put her hand on my leg. “That’s sweet. But I’m tougher than I look.” She looked up at me. “Now let’s go home.”

Giving her a light squeeze, I stood back up. “Yeah, let me tell the nurse and get the car. I think they’re going to make you ride the wheelchair out to the front even though you can walk.” I gave her a parting wave as I headed out of the room.

It wasn’t until I was in the small waiting room that led to the elevators that I stopped to catch my breath. What was wrong with me? Why was my skin crawling from her being near me?

And why was I still scared?

---

“Home sweet home.” I tried to sound cheerful as we pulled into the driveway, and for the next hour or so, things were so busy that I forgot to be anxious or scared. I took her on a tour of the house, showed her some of her things, and when we were done, she asked for some time to take a nap. I surprised myself by being a little disappointed when I shut the door to the bedroom and went back downstairs to eat lunch alone.

Maybe I really was just being weird about everything. She seemed more herself now, didn’t she? And didn’t being in a hospital, especially when you were the patient, make people weird and stressed? Besides, she wasn’t being unreasonable, was she? When I suggested we give her a couple of days at home before Evan came back, she agreed that would be best. She even joked that she didn’t want to freak him out by being weird. That sounded like Cody, didn’t it?

Sitting by myself, slowly chewing a sandwich, I made up my mind to set all my irrational doubts and fears aside. She was the one going through all this, not me. And she was the one being strong and reasonable while I wasted time and energy on what? Bullshit, that’s what. And it was time that I focused on her.

So that’s exactly what I did. Over the next day and a half, I spent most of my time with her. It was weird at first, but it got easier and more normal over time. My weird worries started circling back to my original relief and gratitude that she was okay, and the idea that I’d ever doubted that she was my wife seemed increasingly silly and strange.

That third day home, we spent the morning cleaning up some before Evan arrived in the afternoon. We were tired when we sat down, and I felt relieved that things felt closer to normal than they had since I first got the call from the hospital. Maybe remembering that day is what made me think about what Jesse had said when I’d gone to get stuff out of the car. Remember the car itself, and the license I had found.

A license that, despite all my claims to be past any concerns, I still had hidden in my trunk and hadn’t mentioned to Cody. Maybe I just asked what I did out of curiosity. Or maybe my worries weren’t quite as dead as I wanted them to be.

“So…um, do you remember a guy from the wrecker service coming out and helping you when you wrecked?”

Cody had been idly flipping channels, but I felt her tense next to me as she sat the remote down. “No. I told you, I don’t remember any of that. Why?”

I shrugged, trying to sound casual. “No real reason. I just…the wrecker guy I’ve been dealing with, he said that another guy…Ronnie or Robbie or something…had answered the call first.”

“So? Maybe he did. What does it matter? They got the car, didn’t they?”

I forced a laugh. “Oh yeah, they did. It’s just, the first guy never called back in or came back to work, and the Jesse guy I’ve talked to had to be the one to go get it.”

Cody sat quiet for several moments before giving a small grunt. “Hmph. Well, that’s weird. But no, I don’t remember.” She stood up and started walking to the stairs. “I have some more to do upstairs to get Evan’s room ready before they get here. Why don’t you go get the car back? Or get it towed somewhere that they can start fixing it at least?”

“I…yeah, sure, I mean I can. That’s a good idea. But is it a huge rush to do it today? The doctor said you don’t need to drive until your follow-up in a couple of weeks. I can always get it taken somewhere tomorrow.”

She turned back with a frown. “No, go ahead and do it if you don’t mind. I don’t like the idea of those people having my car. I’m pretty sure they already stole my license.” Her eyes fixed on mine. “You haven’t seen it, have you?”

I swallowed, a new tendril of fear uncoiling in my belly. “Um, license? Like a driver’s license? No, honey. I…wasn’t it in your purse?”

Cody shook her head. “Nope. Afraid not.” She held my gaze a moment longer and headed for the stairs. “See you when you get back.”

---

The door was locked at Wright’s Wrecker, but Jesse answered on the second knock. He looked both surprised and relieved when he saw it was me, ushering me in before closing the door back and locking it behind us. I glanced between the door and him.

“You closed? I can always come back later…”

He was already waving me down into a chair. “Nah, nah. Just doing some inventory and tax stuff today while it’s quiet. I appreciate the break. Damn stuff makes my eyes bleed.”

I grinned. “I understand. Well, it won’t take long, I’m afraid. I just wanted to pay off the car’s bill and get it towed over to the dealership so they can work on it.”

“Sure, sure.” He trailed off as he started looking through papers on his desk, less like he was looking for something specific than to give a mild impression that he was. “How’s things been going with your wife? Everything okay?”

His tone and wording were weird. Not “how’s your wife?”, but “how’s things been going with her” and was everything okay. I started to lie, but then stopped myself. “I don’t know. Okay, I guess. But it’s weird. She’s weird. I know it’s got to just be the accident, but it kind of feels like she’s a different person some times.”

Jesse’s eyes snapped up to mine. “Different how?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Weird. Kind of cold. Like she’s faking it or something. Which she has amnesia, so hell maybe she is. Who could blame her?”

The other man’s expression deepened into a frown as I spoke. “Steve, I wasn’t entirely honest with you the other day.”

“About what?”

“Well, when I said I don’t know anything about what might have happened to your wife and her car.”

I felt anger flaring in my chest. “What the fuck, man? Why wouldn’t you tell me?” I started to rise from the chair. “Is this about Robbie? Did he do something to…”

Jesse’s eyes had widened in surprise. “Robbie? Fuck, man. No. I mean not that I know of. I still haven’t heard from him, and the old man is planning on taking a warrant for theft if the truck isn’t back by the end of the week. Just calm down. Calm down and sit down, okay?”

I sat back down into the chair, my body rigid with anger. “Just tell me what you know. Now.”

“Jesus, listen. I said what might have happened. Let me be real clear. I don’t actually know what happened with your wife. But seeing all this, it did remind me of something that happened to my sister’s kid a few years back. I almost said something about it the other day, but it sounded crazy and I was embarrassed.” He sighed. “And I’ve felt guilty since. So no doubt, you’ll think I’m just a nut or an asshole wasting your time with made-up bullshit, but if you have a few minutes, I’d like to tell you about my nephew Cooper.”

“Okay. What about him?”

“About how he died when he was twenty. And he looked like a little dried up old man.”

---

My sister said the doctors called it Werner’s Syndrome. I remember because it sounded German, like something you’d have in a movie where some Nazi scientist had cooked up something evil. And what it did was evil enough. When Cooper was eighteen, he looked totally normal and healthy. Never had any real health problems his whole life, and back then I lived close enough that I saw him every week or two.

Then all of a sudden, he started changing. He was stooped over and gave out of breath easy. He looked worn down all the time. Then his hair started turning grey and his first tooth fell out. They were already getting him checked by then, of course. At first they thought it was cancer, but it wasn’t. And I don’t think it was that syndrome either. That was just doctors trying to put a name on something they didn’t understand.

Either way, it didn’t matter. My sister watched as her baby got eaten up in less than three years. I was there when he died in hospice. He was the last of them to go.

---

I blinked. “Last of them?”

Jesse gave me a ghastly, joyless grin. “Oh yeah. It wasn’t just him it was happening to. It was also his two best friends. Same fucking age, same fucking deal. They all aged eighty years in two or three. They all went crazy before the end,” He sighed. “Or at least so they say.”

I wasn’t sure how to react. I didn’t think he was lying to me, but even if it was all true, why was he telling it? Still, if it helped me understand what was going on in the end, I needed to keep him talking. “So you don’t think they went crazy?”

He shrugged and rubbed his face. “Hell, I don’t know. I know that they all got real strange, but who the fuck wouldn’t going through something like that? Seeing your life disappear in front of you when you’re still a kid?” Jesse shook his head. “And I know that one of his friends…one of the other two that were dying from whatever it was...they wrote a story about it. When her family figured out she’d posted it on the internet and word got around…well, my sister lost it. She was out of her mind with grief already, and she felt like the friend’s story was making light of it or would upset Cooper or…I don’t know. It just made things worse for all of them, I guess.”

“But the story, was it true or not?”

Jesse let out a loud laugh. “Fuck, man, I don’t know. I don’t know about all of it. Some of it was weird. Ritual with some stupid name and you know, typical internet ghost story bullshit the kids are into now.” He stopped laughing, and his eyes looked wary and afraid. “But I know at least parts of it were true.”

I stared at him. “How?”

He leaned back in his chair and looked at the ceiling. “Because I saw them that morning. The morning after the night they talk about in the story. I was working as a mechanic at a gas station at the time, and about six or seven, right after I got there myself, Cooper and his two friends come rolling up in his mom’s old Camry.” When he looked at me now, his expression was haunted. “They were all terrified. Like shaking and crying, and they were all filthy and stunk. I wanted to call the cops, but Cooper said it was okay. That they were okay. They just needed help cleaning up the car before they went home and my sister saw it.”

Jesse let out a long breath. “Those kids and the car…they had pissed and shit in there. I asked them how and why, but they said they couldn’t remember. But that wasn’t the worst part. It was the mud. A thick, dark mud that somehow stunk worse than the rest. I spent an hour spraying and vacuuming that car out with them helping me, and we got rid of most of it, but I could still smell it when we were d…”

“You think that’s like the mud on Cody’s car?” I didn’t want to stop him talking, but I couldn’t help but ask. I didn’t know what to make of any of this, but the more he talked, the more afraid I was growing. “Is that it?”

He nodded. “That’s part of it, yeah. When I got to the car, that mud was still fresh. I recognized the smell right away. That and other stuff from the story...seeing your wife’s car…” Jesse trailed off for a moment. “Coop made me promise to never tell his mom about that morning, and I kept that promise. I almost broke it about a hundred times. But they all seemed fine after that at first. And then when they started getting sick and aging wrong, people were talking about cancer and German syndromes, not cars filled with stinking dirt and shit. It felt like bringing it up would just cause more problems without helping anything.” Jesse wiped at his eyes and looked away. “By the time the story came out, it was too late. It wasn’t long after that the first of them died, and within a couple of months they were all gone.”

I puffed out a breath. “I’m so sorry. God.” We sat silent for a few moments when another question came to me. “Did the story talk about imposters? Like fake people or anything?” My stomach twisted as I realized I wasn’t embarrassed asking that question anymore.

Jesse waggled his hand side to side. “Kind of maybe? It was really bizarre. I think it talked about things climbing into the kids and people climbing out. People that weren’t really people. Shit, I didn’t believe it at the time, and I still don’t I guess, but…I don’t know. Seeing your wife’s car was kind of like seeing a ghost.”

“Did…did your nephew ever tell you more about what happened to them before you saw them that morning?”

Jesse shook his head. “No. If he ever talked to anyone about it, it must have been one of those other poor kids.” He grunted. “Well, I guess that’s not true. They found a note he’d written under his pillow when he died. It was a line from his friend’s story.”

“Do you remember it?”

“Yeah. It upset my sister so much, I don’t think I could ever forget it.” His face looked troubled as he uttered the words.

“There is only one of us.”

---

I was getting back in the car when I got a call from Cody’s number. I barely had time to answer before my wife’s voice was talking to me excitedly.

“Where are you?”

“I’m just leaving the towing place. Are you okay?”

“I’m way better than just okay! You need to get home soon!”

I frowned as I cranked up the car. “Why? What’s going on?”

“They got here early! Our baby’s home!”

---

Credits

 

I Think My Wife Is Faking Her Amnesia (Part 2)

 

The next two days seemed like a bad dream, somehow moving agonizingly slow and too fast all at once. I wanted Cody to be okay, to be back to herself, but I also wanted there to be something wrong that they could identify and fix. I felt guilty at that, even though I knew it was because I wanted Cody to be okay and as she was, and I didn’t see a clear path to that without some idea of what was behind her sudden memory loss.

Except it wasn’t just that, was it? It was the call from the man at the wrecker service, with his talk of bears and broken glass. I’d called him back the next day to tell him to keep storing the car and so I could set up a time to go by and get anything valuable out of it, but I had to leave a voice mail. I was somewhat relieved, as I dreaded the idea of talking to him again, of him telling me more things that made me worry or doubt that I really understood what was going on. That I could trust what was going on.

That I could trust her.

It was a strange, uncomfortable thought. I trusted her more than anyone, and yet the hours I had spent with her in the hospital…

It wasn’t that she was unpleasant or unkind. Just the opposite. While she did still seem somewhat distant, she was also eager to have me visit and spend time with her. The doctor had told me to go easy on giving her too much detail beyond the basics—she said that with some people suffering from amnesia, an overload of new information caused high anxiety, or made them feel pressure to pretend to remember things they didn’t to please their family or the doctors treating them.

“Just spend time with her. Answer any direct questions she has honestly, but without too much elaboration, and if she presses, just remind her that we want the memories to come back on their own for the most part. Spurring those memories is one thing. Recreating them based on your perspective and recollection is another. Does that make sense?”

I nodded that it did, and I tried to stick to that when I was with Cody in the hospital. She’d learned from someone about our son and so that was a big focus of her questions, but she was also asking about our extended family. I told her that her mother had passed away seven years earlier and her father had died when she was a child. That my parents had Evan for the week and had been updated on what was going on, though I hadn’t mentioned anything to them about her amnesia yet. Just that she was okay after a car accident and was still recovering in the hospital.

But by the second day, Cody had grown impatient in her hunger for more information. She was peppering me with constant questions—random stuff. Some of it was about me and her or Evan or something else that made sense she’d want to know after losing her memory, but a lot of it was random stuff that didn’t seem like a big concern at the time.

What was her social security number? What did she do in her job? How long had she worked there? What city had she been born in? What was her favorite color?

After awhile, I started laughing. She quirked an eyebrow at me.

“What’s funny?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know. Nothing, I guess. I just feel like I’m on a quiz show about you. Or like I forgot your password and I’m trying to give the answers to those questions they give you to reset it.”

She gave me a slight frown. “I just…This is really scary for me, okay? You can’t imagine what it’s like to just have something…just swallow you up. I don’t want to feel like this anymore. Don’t you want me to get better?”

I tried to hide my irritation. “Of course I do. That’s not fair. And while no, I don’t know exactly what you’re going through, I know it has to be hard. And I want to do whatever it takes to make it better. That’s why they’re still doing tests and monitoring you.”

Cody rolled her eyes. “And that’s another thing. I’m ready to get out of here and go home. Get our child and start living our life again. I’ve always heard that people remember better when they’re in a familiar setting, right?”

I stared at her uncertainly. “Uh, yeah, maybe. But I think they just want to make sure they aren’t missing something that could hurt you down the line. I think they’re good doctors and nurses and they’re trying to help. We all are.”

Her lips thinned as she gave a small nod. “I know. I think I’m just tired. Can you give me some time to sleep and come back later?”

“Yeah. Yeah, sure. I have some stuff I need to take care of anyway. I’ll be back this afternoon.”

---

“This is Jesse.”

“Hey Jesse. This is Steve Miltry. You’ve got my wife’s car?”

I thought his tone changed when he spoke next, but maybe it was my imagination. “Yeah, hey Mr. Miltry. I got your message. Got your car locked up in one of our garages, safe and sound. And whenever you want to come get stuff out of the car is fine with me. I didn’t take anything out, but I saw some stuff you’ll want to get.”

“Oh? Like what?”

“Hmm? Cell phone, driver’s license, what I’m guessing is your wife’s purse. That kind of thing.”

“Did you go into my wife’s purse and check her license?”

Jesse sounded surprised and slightly offended. “What? No. I wouldn’t do that. It was in the passenger floorboard by itself. Partway under the seat, and I never touched it, but I saw enough to know what it was. The purse was in the backseat floor I think, and I never went in it.”

“Oh, sorry. I…just don’t know why she’d have it out is all. Anyway, yeah…can I come get that stuff now?”

“Sure. I’ll be here all afternoon unless I get called out.”

---

Jesse Hartman looked younger in person than he sounded on the phone. His hair was already thinning on top, but he had a baby face and was quick to smile when I came into his office. “You Steve?”

I returned his smile awkwardly. “Yeah, that’s me. And hey…I was thinking about it on the way over here. I’m sorry again about how I acted on the phone. I wasn’t trying to accuse you of messing with her purse.”

He waved his hand as he stood up and came around the counter toward me. “Nah, man. I get it. Nothing to worry about. Come on back.” He patted my arm as he moved past to a rear door leading out into a large fenced yard housing three rows of cars. Beyond that, there were two outbuildings, one small and the other much larger. Jesse gestured toward the buildings. “Yours is in the big one. We use it for extra security on some vehicles. I think at one time the boss was going to use it as a working garage. Had the idea to run a full mechanic’s shop.” He shot me a grin. “Don’t think it worked out though. We piddle some in the small garage, but mainly just to keep our trucks running.”

“Oh, so you don’t own this place?”

He shook his head as we reached rolling door. “Me? Nah, I’ve only been here a year. Guy that owns it doesn’t come in much anymore, and the other fella he had working for him…” Jesse paused and seemed to consider something before looking back at me. “Has your wife said anything about the first guy we sent out?”

“Huh? I thought you towed the car.”

He shrugged. “I did, yeah. But I wasn’t the first person we sent out. Robbie…he’s the other guy the old man has working for him…he took the call originally. But then I could never get ahold of him after that. Never answered my call or text to tell me he’d found the customer…your wife…and well, Robbie has a problem with booze. Not a bad guy, but he isn’t reliable. So when I couldn’t get him in a few minutes, I took the other truck and went out there myself. By then your wife was gone. I think someone driving by had seen her car and called 911, but I can’t say for sure. And I don’t know that Robbie ever even made it out there. He wasn’t there when I got there, and neither was the truck. And it’s not unheard of that he might drop off for a day or two, but not more than that, especially when he has one of the trucks. So I just…I’m starting to go from irritated to worried, you know?” Jesse gave a short laugh. “Sorry, here I am bothering you with this and you’re just here to get your stuff.”

I shook my head. “No, I get it. I…I don’t know. She hasn’t said anything about the accident. Well, except for some texts I got at the time, but she doesn’t mention a tow truck or the Robbie guy or anything.”

Jesse nodded as he pushed up the door. “Well, he’ll turn up. Probably sleeping it off somewhere.” He gestured to the car inside the building. “There it is.”

I felt my chest tighten as I looked at it. He hadn’t been exaggerating. The front of the car looked fairly intact other than the broken grill and a small bend in the bumper, but the driver’s side door…The window was not only broken out, but that part of the door had been bent out of shape as though something too large to fit had been shoving its way inside.

“Jesus.”

Jesse made a small clucking sound in the back of his throat. “Yeah. That’s what I was saying. I don’t know what does that. That door won’t work, but the passenger side is fine.”

I glanced at his strange expression and then went closer to the car, examining the brown-black trails running thick down the outside of the door. “I-is that blood?”

“Nah. I wondered at first too. But it isn’t blood. I think it might be mud.”

Looking inside the car, I saw the broken glass and small specks of red that might actually be blood, but there were more black smears of mud mixed in with tracks of ruined plastic and leather where something had torn the inside of the door and parts of the driver’s seat apart. I took a step back, trying to catch my breath. “I…I don’t understand any of this.”

I heard a sigh behind me. “I don’t either, but…I don’t know.”

I looked back at him. “What? What do you know?”

He shrugged. “Nothing, man. Just reminds me of some weird shit I’ve seen. But I don’t really know anything.”

I thought about pressing him on the point, but how could I? I didn’t feel like he was lying to me, and even if he was, how could I get him to say more? So I watched as he turned and started back to the office and then I started going through the car.

I found the purse, and laying between the passenger seat and the door was Cody’s phone, which was dead after several days. And just as the man had said, there was her driver’s license peeking out from under the seat in the floorboard. I could see her smiling face looking out at me, a past her that was happy and safe and didn’t know this strangeness was ahead of her. There was more of the black stain across the bottom of the photo and I almost wiped it away when I realized what it was.

A fingerprint.

Something stopped me then, and I stayed frozen, hunched over in the doorway of the car, holding the license gingerly by its edges as I decided what to do. Why did this feel important? Like I was preserving evidence from a crime scene?

Because maybe I was. What if Cody was attacked? Either by this Robbie or somebody else? This could be proof of that, and I couldn’t risk destroying evidence.

Swallowing, I looked around for somewhere to put the license without disturbing the fingerprint there. I finally settled on breaking off the plastic lid of some baby wipes she kept in the back seat. It wasn’t great, but after I dried the lid on my pants it should be a decent place to keep the license until I could get it into a proper box or something. Feeling both scared and stupid, I headed back up to the office holding her purse and phone in one hand and the lid to the wipes with the license in the other.

When I went in, Jesse was gone. I still wanted to press him for anything else he might know, but it wasn’t like I didn’t still have the car there. I could always make the excuse to question him again when I called to check on that.

I was halfway back to the hospital when the same nurse that had first called me called again. “What is it? Is something wrong?”

Her voice was odd. Different than her normal kind and positive tone. “No, nothing like that. I just…well, your wife has demanded to be discharged. We’ve convinced her to wait until tomorrow morning, but we’re starting to process the paperwork now.”

“Discharged? Why?”

There was a pause. “Well, she says she remembers much more now. She remembers you and more of her life and she wants go home. And we can’t keep her against her will.”

“Okay, um, well, maybe that’s good news, right? I’ll be back there in just a few minutes, okay? I’ll see if I can talk to her and find out what’s going on.”

“Sure. I just…Look, I wanted to ask you a couple of things before you got back, if that’s all right.”

“Oh. Well, yeah. What?”

“Well, when she first woke up, your wife said that her home address is 157 Albrecht Drive. But our records from when she had her baby here three years ago shows 201 Benton Lane. Have you moved since then?”

I gave a relieved laugh. “Oh, is that all? Well, no. We’ve lived at Benton for seven years. Since her mother died and Cody inherited her house. But before that our house was 157 Albrecht. For the first few years we still kept our old house as a fallback. Still got our mail there even. We didn’t sell it until we had the baby. So maybe she’s just remembering the old house because we used to live there.”

Another pause. “Maybe so. It just seemed strange and I wanted you to know. See you when you get here.” Then she was gone.

As I pulled up to a stop light, I kept turning the conversation over in my head. It was weird. She’d acted like she needed to correct the address, but then at the end it was more like she just wanted me to know because it was ‘strange’. How strange was it, really? We had lived there, after all. For years. And Cody did remember parts of her life, so was it that odd that she’d remember living in our old house?

I felt a small chill run up my back.

Except it was our old house. If she remembered living there, why didn’t she remember me, from back then at least? I pushed back against the thoughts crawling into my brain. No, that was dumb. How else would she know that address except that she remembered it? And I didn’t know how amnesia really worked, and I certainly didn’t know what all she had been through that day. I glanced over at her driver’s license, smudged with that dark print, some relic of the terrible mystery that had invaded our lives.

And then my breath caught in my throat. The license was five years old and up for renewal this year. My eyes shifted from the expiration date up to the information above. Her name and date of birth, but also her mailing address five years ago.

157 Albrecht Drive

---

Credits

 

I Think My Wife Is Faking Her Amnesia (Part 1)

 

My wife Cody and I have run an assisted-living home for the last seven years. She inherited it from her mother, and while I was initially very unsure about us taking over that kind of responsibility, it’s actually turned out great. Our twenty tenants have their own bungalows, and we aren’t taking care of them directly in any capacity. Our job is mainly maintenance of the property, helping the tenants get in contact with the services they need, and normal business administration stuff. And having our house next to the property means that we can spend more time together and with our son, Evan. He’s going into preschool next year, and having this time with him and each other…well, we’re all really close and very happy. And if you’d asked me two months ago how things were going, I would have said everything was pretty great.

But then back in September my wife had an accident. I got the call while driving through the country a couple of counties over. The cell service in that area is terrible, and when I looked over at my ringing phone, I saw multiple notifications coming in, with two missed calls being from the woman who was calling me again. I answered immediately, and as soon as she identified herself as a nurse, my heart dropped. Forcing myself to listen past the panicked buzz that was growing in my head, I understood that Cody had been in a car accident and was found unconscious behind the wheel. That she had not yet regained consciousness, but her vitals were otherwise stable and they were going to be taking her to imaging to see if they could find any signs of injury other than the scrapes and bruises they’d already seen.

I’d been heading home, but now I rushed to the hospital. Cody was still in imaging when I got there, so I had to sit anxiously in a small emergency room waiting area for them to get finished and give me an update. It’s while I was waiting that I thought of my phone again and checked what I had missed.

There were the two missed calls from the nurse that had finally reached me, but there were also a pair of text messages that hadn’t gone to my phone until I’d driven back into the service area. They were both from Cody.

Cody: Drove into a ditch. Hit a tree. Fucking stupid. Think a tire blew out. About to get out and check the car and then call wrecker. Am okay. I’ll call in a bit. Love you.

I found out later that was originally sent at 10:49 AM. Then eight minutes later:

Cody: I think I see me.

What did that mean? I was still staring at the messages when the doctor touched me on the shoulder. She said Cody had woken up while they were doing an MRI and that she seemed overall alert. When I asked if I could go back and see her, the doctor gave me an uncomfortable smile.

“In just a little bit, yes. We…well, we’re doing a more comprehensive examination of her now that she’s awake. Seeing if she has any pain and checking her cognitive function.”

I frowned. “But she’s okay? Is that just standard? The checking I mean. Or do you think she has some kind of brain injury?”

She nodded. “Well, those are good questions. We’re going to have our radiologist review the MRI and X-Rays in the next couple of hours, but from my review I haven’t seen any signs of internal injury yet.” The doctor raised her hand. “That’s not the final word, of course. We’re not there yet. But so far, so good on that front.”

“Um, okay. So what front aren’t we good on?”

The doctor’s faint smile disappeared. “Well, we’ve been talking to her since she woke up, and she’s showing signs of not remembering some things yet.”

I felt my mouth going dry. “Like she doesn’t remember the accident? Or like amnesia?”

She let out a small sigh. “Well, technically even not remembering the accident might be a form of retrograde amnesia, but yes, more than just that. She knows who she is. Her name and her date of birth and where she lives.” The doctor shook her head slightly. “But other details…where she works, being married…” She drifted off as she met my eyes. “I’m sorry. I should really wait to go into more detail after we’ve had longer to check her out. It’s just…I know I’d want to know how my spouse was doing, and honestly, while I’ve seen plenty of literature about amnesia, it’s just not very common in real life.”

Swallowing, I just looked at her for a moment as I tried to process everything she was saying. “Are you telling me that she doesn’t remember me?”

The doctor pursed her lips. “She doesn’t seem to, not yet. But often that’s very temporary.”

“But you said she’s not badly hurt?”

She shook her head. “No, I said we haven’t seen any internal injuries yet. We’re still trying to figure out what would have caused her to be unconscious for so long or have amnesia.”

I felt confused anger bubbling up in my stomach, and even though I knew it wasn’t her fault, it was hard to keep it out of my voice. “So you haven’t found any reason for her to have amnesia or have been blacked out like that yet. That’s what you’re really saying.”

She frowned. “Yes. But that doesn’t mean there isn’t a good reason. And memory loss can occur due to things other than physical inju…”

“Look at this, please.” I held out my phone where Cody’s text messages were still on the bottom of the screen. “She sent this to me when she had her accident. How is she able to text all that clearly and then blackout before whoever found her…who did find her?”

“Sir, I don’t know. But…well, I understand why this seems strange to you. But she could have had some kind of delayed reaction or event after the wreck that caused her to lose consciousness. And the second text is very odd, so maybe she was becoming groggy by that point and didn’t know what she was saying.”

I stuffed my phone back in my pocket. “Okay. Well does she remember we have a little boy?”

She glanced away. “I didn’t ask her that specifically.” Looking back, the doctor gave another sigh. “But we did ask generally if she remembered having any children and she said no. But again, it could be very temporary. Let me go see how her full eval is going and we’ll get you back there in just a little while, okay?”

I sunk back down into the molded plastic chair I’d been sitting in. “Sure. I…Sorry. I’m just upset.”

She patted me on the shoulder. “I understand. We’ll know more soon.”

---

I was brought back to see Cody an hour later. The nurse I’d talked to on the phone was the one that came and got me, and she explained that my wife was still having memory gaps, so I needed to not overwhelm her at first. No going up and hugging her, pushing her to remember things that she couldn’t, that kind of thing. Just going in, talking to her a bit and seeing if that helped break anything loose.

It was hard not rushing over to her when I saw her laying there. She was awake and alert, seemed fine overall, but there was an uneasiness to her gaze as I entered past the curtain barrier that bothered me more than I’d expected given all I’d been told. Taking a couple of steps closer, I stopped and gave her what I hoped was a friendly smile.

“Cody? Do you remember me?”

She looked at me for several seconds before responding. “I’m sorry. I don’t. Not really. I can…like they told me you’re my husband. And I can see I have this hole in my memory that you would fit. But it’s not the same thing as really remembering you.” Her eyes widened slightly. “I don’t say that being mean. Or because I don’t care. I’m sure you’re a great husband.” She blushed. “They said it may take some time for me to remember.”

Forcing a smile, I shook my head. “Don’t you worry about that. Or anything. We’ll get through this. You’ll get your memories back, and well, if you don’t, we’ll still make new ones. Okay?”

She returned my smile. “That sounds great. Thank you for being so understanding about it.”

I felt tears coming into my eyes. “Honey, I’m just glad to talk to you. I…well, they’re checking you out and all, and we’ll see if anything else is going on. But yeah…I’m just happy you’re able to talk to me.”

Her expression grew a little sad as she nodded before glancing over at the nurse. “I’m getting sleepy again now. Is it okay if I sleep?”

“Sure, honey. Let me talk to…your husband for just a minute and then I’ll come back and check on you.” She gently took my elbow and guided me back out past the curtain dividing Cody’s bed from the others in the ER. Lowering her voice, she gave me a sympathetic look. “Now don’t you worry. She really doesn’t mean to seem distant, it’s all just strange to her right now. Sleep is the best thing for her.”

I met her gaze. “Because she doesn’t have a concussion.”

She gave a shrug. “No, that’s true. But I’ve been doing this for a long time. People react all kinds of ways to things. Main thing now is, we’re going to take good care of her and you need to try not to worry.” The nurse pointed back to the doors leading out to the waiting room. “Go back out and sit for a little bit, or go get something to eat. They’re going to transfer her to a room in about an hour, and when they do, I’ll come get you. And if anything changes before then, I’ll sure come let you know.”

I nodded numbly. “Um, okay. Thanks.” I walked back out into the waiting room, my thoughts all a jumble. Evan was staying with his grandparents until Friday, and I didn’t want to upset them with all this until I knew more, so I decided the best thing to do was just sit and wait. Going back to the same chair as before, I’d started to search on my phone for information on amnesia when it began to ring.

“Hello?”

“Hey. This is Jesse with Wright Wrecking Service. Is this Steven Miltry?”

“Um, yeah. Steve, but yeah.”

“Okay, great. Well, we just picked up a vehicle this morning that has your name on the registration. You familiar with that?”

Rubbing my forehead, I nodded. “Yeah, um, yeah it was my wife driving. She had an accident.”

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that. She doing okay?”

I felt a sudden urge to tell him all about it. That no she wasn’t doing okay, not really, because she’d forgotten half her life. That none of this made sense and the last thing I cared about at the moment was the fucking car he had towed. “Yeah, I just saw her and she’s…she’s lucky, I guess.”

He gave a short bark of a laugh. “Hell, I guess so. What was it? A bear?”

“What? Was what a bear?”

The man sounded less certain when he responded. “Look, I don’t mean to make light. And I really am glad she’s okay. I just didn’t know what else could cause damage like that.”

I could hear blood thrumming in my ears. “What damage? My wife…she hit a tree. She blew a tire and hit a tree. That’s…that’s what she told me.”

“Yeah, there was a blown tire, and I did pull it off of a tree. It broke the grill and dented the bumper, but it didn’t look bad. But the door and the window on the driver’s side…well, it’s none of my business and you’ll see it soon enough. And that’s actually why I was calling. Do you want us to store the vehicle for now, or is there somewhere you’d like it towed. The daily storage f…”

“What about the door? The window? What happened to them?”

A long pause and then. “Well the glass is all busted out. The door is partway bent.”

“Okay, well maybe she hit her head and busted the window. Maybe the doctors are just missing that she has a…”

“No sir, it was busted in, not out. There was glass all over the inside from that window being busted. Plus, the door…the inside of it? It was all ripped up. Something was trying to get in through that window and was strong enough to do all that. That’s why I said bear. I was only half-joking.” Another pause and then. “Did she get bit or anything?”

I found myself staring back at the emergency room doors. As though I could see through them to Cody if I looked hard enough. “I don’t think so. But I don’t really understand what’s going on yet.”

“I got you. Look, I’ll store the car tonight and tomorrow. No charge. When you get ready, you call me back and we can go from there.”

“Uh, okay. Um, thanks.”

“No problem. Hey man, hope your wife is okay.”

I felt something twisting deep in my belly as I stared in what I thought was her direction. “Yeah. Yeah, me too.”

---

Credits