A Five-Minute Life

“What’s happening? Why is everyone here in New York?” She looked at me. “Are we still in New York?”

Fuck, this is already too hard.

“Yeah, we are,” I said.

Dr. Chen pulled a penlight from her pocket. “Thea, can I look in your eyes?”

“Why are they here?” Thea demanded with rising panic. “What’s happening?”

“It’s time to go back, honey,” Rita said. “We’re going to take care of you—”

“No, please,” Thea cried. Her gaze swiveled to me. “I changed my mind. I can’t do this. I don’t want to go back. Please…” She clutched my shirt. “Please don’t make me go back.”

Tears stung my own eyes as I held her. “This isn’t right,” I said to Dr. Chen. “Can’t you do something for her?”

“There’s nothing else to do,” she said, her voice low and heavy. “Not right now. She has to go back.”

She has to go back. To Virginia and to that tiny prison.

Thea trembled in my arms, her hands clenching and unclenching my shirt. “Stay with me, Jimmy,” she begged. “Please…”

“I won’t leave you,” I said. “I swear. Not for a second.”

“If it makes things easier, I can sedate her,” Dr. Chen said, with a nod at Rita.

“No,” Thea cried, her hands releasing my shirt. “No. I’m not going back drugged up. I want whatever time is left.” Now her tone turned strong and defiant. “Can we have a moment, please?”

She waited until everyone backed away, then put her forehead to mine, letting her hair fall to shield us.

“I’m so fucking scared, Jimmy.”

“I know you are, and I hate it,” I whispered. “I’d give anything to do this for you.”

“Remember for me.” Tears spilled down her cheeks and over my fingers, and then she pulled me to her, her voice tremulous. “Remember us… when I can’t.”

A hospital van idled in front of the hotel in the early hours as dawn started to break over the horizon. Clutching my hand, Thea walked to the van, stopping once as a blank spot hit. She’d had three more blanks as we packed our hotel room and made our way down.

Dr. Chen and Rita hovered close, but Thea refused to let them examine her in any way.

“It’s almost over,” she said dully, curling up against me in the van. “You can have me when I’m gone.”

Rita shook her head as her eyes met mine. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

I nodded and held Thea tight to me and sang as the van pulled away from the hotel. I sang to Thea or hummed to her the entire ride, as her blank spots grew wider and deeper. Mercifully—and yet frighteningly—she slept for most of the drive.

“She’s been sleeping a lot,” I said to Dr. Chen. “Is that supposed to happen?”

“It’s the Hazarin leaving her system. External stimuli become draining and make the onset of her amnesia more aggressive.”

“Will there be another d-d-drug?” I asked, trying to keep my shit together. “Is M-M-Milton going to try again?”

Dr. Chen’s expression didn’t change, filling me with dread. “Things in Sydney are quite chaotic right now. It’s unclear where Dr. Milton or his project’s funding stand. However, his procedure is still a breakthrough in medical science and the entire neurological community is rallying around its potential. Obviously, it’s the medication—the bonding agent—that requires more work. I think the chances of a new drug coming out are very good. I just can’t say when.”

Months. Years. Never.

I held Thea tighter.

We arrived at Roanoke Memorial Hospital around three that afternoon. Thea was groggy and sluggish as I carried her inside, refusing the gurney that was brought out. Dr. Chen and her staff directed me to a room, where I laid Thea on the bed.