A Five-Minute Life

And what the hell was I doing thinking about Thea Hughes? Her memory was fucked. She wasn’t capable of anything, not even friendship.

Her brain is broken. Leave her alone.

But she wouldn’t leave me alone.

Laura plunked a new beer on my table and walked away. In my pathetic imagination, Thea sat next to me, listening to the music, swaying in her seat.

“Music is life,” she said, her hand slipping into mine. Her blue eyes bright with recognition and light.

My life was a set of hours to be endured, not lived. My light low and sputtering. But I could take care of Thea Hughes. That was something I could do.

I left Laura a generous tip and rode back to my house without so much as a mild buzz. I hit the sack early and made sure my alarm was set.

I had a job to do.

In the dining hall the next morning, Thea looked up from her breakfast of eggs and toast, as I helped Mr. Webb take a seat at the table beside her.

“Good morning,” she said, squinting at my nametag. “Jim.”

“Good morning.”

“How long has it been?”

Anna Sutton, the head nurse, joined us and set a cup of orange juice in front of Thea. She was in her fifties, dark hair always tied back neat and tight.

“You can answer,” she instructed me, like a grade school teacher.

“Two years,” I said. “It’s been two years, Miss Hughes.”

“Two years,” Thea said. “God, that’s so long. But I’m back now and the doctors are going to tell me what’s wrong with me.”

“They will,” Anna said with a prim, reassuring smile.

“I’m Thea,” she said, offering her hand and introducing herself to me for the fifth time.

Stop counting.

“Nice to meet you,” I said, the words sounding so fucking wrong in my ears.

Thea glanced down at her food. “I’ve never eaten scrambled eggs before. Have I?”

“Yes, Miss Hughes,” Anna said. “You love them.”

Thea made a face, contemplating the truth of this statement before shrugging. She shot me a grin. “You’re hovering, Jim. Come sit and eat scrambled eggs with us.”

Anna arched one eyebrow at me, silently conveying that only one response was correct here.

“I gotta get back to work,” I said.

“Bummer,” Thea said. “Where do you work?”

I glanced at Anna. She shook her head. The word “here” was forbidden.

“I’m an orderly.”

If God were merciful, Thea would wrinkle her nose in distaste or snobbery and I’d be able to stop liking her so damn much. But no, she flashed that smile of hers.

“Groovy. Will I see you again?”