Free The Memory Book by Howard Engel Page B

could be doing?”
    “Have you tried reading a book?”
    “It takes me all day to get through The Globe and Mail . A book could hang me up until the Second Coming.”
    “Get along with you! You’re doing very well here. But I thought you were Jewish, Mr. Cooperman.”
    “I was. I mean, I am; but when it comes to measuring the time it will take me to recover my old reading speed, the phrase seemed appropriate. What could be longer than an unbeliever’s idea of the Second Coming?”
    “You’ve got a point.”
    “Do you think I’ll ever be able to read again?”
    “I’ve seen all sorts of progress on this floor, Mr. Cooperman.”
    “Call me Benny.”
    “And you’ve forgotten my name again.”
    “I forget it all the time. I know it rhymes with something, but I can’t hold on to it. It’s not just you; I can’t remember anybody’s name. I was never great at names, but this is ridiculous!”
    “My name is Carol McKay and it rhymes with ‘day.’” She repeated the name and the mantra that went with it. For me at least it was a mnemonic trick with a flat tire. I repeated it with her. I planted it in my heart of hearts and there, a moment after she left the room, it vanished. I felt stupid, as though I’d just listened to an hour-long lecture and come away without a thought in my head and nowords to explain what it had been all about. It wasn’t that I forgot who she was or that I forgot what she said to me. It was just the name itself.
    There was a ringing in my ears. I tried to shake it away, but it persisted.
    “Hello?” Jerry, my roommate, waited for a moment while the caller identified himself. I could follow it all. I just hadn’t noticed before that I had a phone next to me. Then I remembered my wrangle with the unhelpful telephone operator.
    Jerry handed me the receiver, then wheeled himself back to his side of the room.
    “Hello? Benny?” It was Anna. “Are you okay? Benny?”
    “I’ve got a phone beside my bed, Anna!”
    “I know. I’ve seen it. Are you okay?”
    “Yes, I’m fine. What have you got for me?” I had not forgotten my earlier worries about Anna’s safety. I should have asked whether she was still in good health. It would have shown me to be a good and caring friend and sometime lover. But I was more interested in what she had to tell me just then. The bang on the head had rendered me no more considerate than I used to be. I still cut to the chase.
    It also hit me that today must be either Tuesday or Thursday, Anna’s teaching days in Toronto. Some small things were beginning to stick in my mind again. It was a good feeling.
    “Benny, are you still there?”
    I cleared my throat. “Sorry, Anna. I was woolgathering. Is this long distance?”
    “No, I’m still in town. Why?”
    “No special reason.” I heard a sigh descend on me down the telephone line. “I went through the alley where the Dumpster is located. I nosed around, as you like to say …”
    “And?”
    “And I felt stupid. I’ll be honest, Benny. Too much time has gone by, and the cops have been all over that thing a dozen times. I didn’t expect to find anything and I didn’t.”
    “Now that I think of it, I’m not surprised.” What really surprised me was the fact that I sent her on such a fool’s errand in the first place. The crime scene was cold by the time I came to the rehab. I could feel my energy for this conversation leaching out of me. I tried to hold on. After all, Anna had tried. I owed her for that at least.
    “Benny?”
    “You shouldn’t have gone there alone, Anna.”
    “You think the guy who conked you and poor Flora is staked out to conk just anybody?”
    “No, I just don’t want you to get hurt. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you in a dark alley while I was cooped up in here. It’s bad enough being flat on my back; putting you in the way of danger makes me …”
    “Yes?”
    “… want to get out of here faster and get back to work.” Anna sighed