He got up and paced the room, carried away by his confession.
“I know it’s unbelievable, but I have…amnesia. An unusual amnesia because I’m only forgetting this year,” he continued. “I remember the twenty years from before. And even a few minutes before…trying to…”
Victoria hung on his words, frozen in the middle of the room, watching Jeremy and visibly distraught. “Are you serious?”
“Very serious.”
Victoria’s face was grim. “The alcohol, maybe?” she said without conviction.
“Maybe.”
They gazed at each other in silence for several long seconds.
“I know! It was the fall!” Victoria exclaimed. “Yesterday I tried to put you to bed, but you struggled and fell. You hit your head on the bed frame. You said you were fine, but you had a nasty bump on your head. You fell asleep, and I thought it wouldn’t be so bad. But you fell pretty hard. I should’ve taken you to the hospital.”
This explanation reassured Jeremy. He ran his fingers through his hair and felt, sure enough, a fresh bruise on the side of his head. He felt some of the heaviness weighing on him disappear. A physical cause, an injury. Finally a concrete fact that added some logic to the situation.
Victoria took Jeremy’s arm and sat him gingerly on the edge of the bed, like she was guiding a senior citizen. Seeing her upset—worried about him—comforted Jeremy because it meant he was still alive. Alive but unwell. And with Victoria there next to him, loving him.
Liberated from his fear, Jeremy wanted to shout for joy.
“What do you remember exactly?” Victoria asked.
“Absolutely nothing.”
“The first time we made love?” she asked with a devilish look.
“For me, that was a few minutes ago.”
Victoria’s eyes widened.
“And this apartment?” she continued.
“New to me.”
“But that’s crazy!” Then in a softer voice, she spoke to him like a sick person. “Try to remember. When you woke up at the hospital, after your attempt…And the time you spent recovering at my place?”
“No. I can only remember my suicide and then you and me this morning. Nothing between the two.”
“Incredible! So you’re telling me that I’m new to you too? It’s like you just learned that you and me, that we’re…”
“Yes.”
“That’s crazy!” she exclaimed.
Then she sighed deeply and got up, unsure of herself. “Okay, no need to worry. It’s a temporary amnesia.”
“Temporary or selective?”
“I don’t know; what do we know about amnesia?” she said on her way to the telephone. “I’m calling Pierre to come with us to the hospital. It’ll be good to have your best friend there with you.”
With Pierre standing next to his hospital bed, Jeremy knew he’d seen him before. He was part of Victoria’s group of friends from school. Jeremy knew them all and classified them by degrees of danger. The best-looking guys, the most charming—he hated them. Then there were those without any particular physical assets, but whose personalities were threats. Victoria was sensitive enough to fall for strong, unique character types. The others were admitted to her court for their sense of humor, their kindness. Pierre fell somewhere between the charming and the unique. He was kind of a Woody Allen. Nice guy, brilliant, with intelligent eyes, thin hair, and unremarkable features. Jeremy remembered his frail figure and slightly stooped posture next to Victoria’s when they were together. She sometimes held his hand, and Jeremy envied him. At the same time, he was grateful Pierre took care of her in ways that were, he hoped, completely innocent.
Jeremy wondered when and how Pierre had become his friend. His presence surprised Jeremy, who was embarrassed by his kindness and concern.
Pierre leaned over Jeremy. “Hey, buddy, I know you don’t like to talk about it, but right now, it’s for a good cause.”
Victoria eyed him anxiously, biting her nails.