A Five-Minute Life

Thea’s luminous face broke out into a smile that made my chest ache. “I would love to. Are you my escort?”

I nodded.

She raised an eyebrow. “Well?”

“Oh, right…”

I offered her my arm and laughing, she took it. I led her to the back door that opened on the fenced grounds.

“It’s such a beautiful day,” Thea said, turning her face to the sun.

The heat wrapped around us in a thick blanket of humidity. Insects buzzed. The lush, green grasses threatened to overtake the stone path through the grounds. The high fencing was just visible on our right, with the thick forest on its other side. I wondered if Thea saw only the trees and plants and not the fence that kept her in.

“You’re awful quiet, Jim,” she said. “Not a big talker?”

“Not much.”

“I’m the opposite. My sister says I never shut up.” Thea peered up at me. “Jim is short for James, yes? You don’t look like a James. Or a Jim, even. Jimmy, I think. You have kind eyes. Do you mind if I call you Jimmy?”

“I don’t mind,” I said, my heart aching and glad at the same time. The same every time.

“Something bothering you, Jimmy?” Thea gave my arm a squeeze. “Contrary to what Delia thinks, I’m a good listener too.”

“N-Nothing’s bothering me,” I said.

Nothing was what I could do about Thea’s predicament. I suddenly regretted this walk.

Thea cocked her head. “Okay, but I’m all ears if you change your mind. Especially now. It’s so quiet out here.”

Twice she’d brought up the quiet. I wondered if the silence of her mind—empty of memory—bothered her more than the quiet of the grounds on this humid afternoon.

Of course, it bothers her. Because she knows. Her word chains are proof.

That line of thinking wasn’t going to get me anywhere. There was nothing I could do to change the future, but I could do something for her at the moment. For the five minutes she had.

“Do you like music?” I said.

Thea’s face lit up. “Like it? Music is life. I’d kill for some tunes right now.”

I reached for my phone to play something for her and realized I’d left it in my locker.

Shit. So much for that plan.

“What about you, Jimmy?” Thea asked. “What do you listen to?”

“Old school rock and metal, mostly,” I said.

“Right on. Dance and techno are my jam. Do you play an instrument too?”

“Not really.”

She gave my arm a nudge. “Not really usually means yes, but you don’t want anyone to know.”

What difference does it make if you tell her? In about three minutes, she won’t remember anyway.

“I play guitar,” I said. “And I sing a little.” The words flew out before I could catch them back.

Thea stopped walking and stood in front of me on the path. “You sing?”