Free For Want of a Memory by Robert Lubrican Page A

obviously confusion to the man's face. Mitch could see that clearly, even with the remaining bandages. He reached into his pocket and took out the driver's license. He looked at the picture on it. Now that the bandages were mostly off, the man was plainly recognizable. On impulse he handed the license to the suspect.
     
     
The man took it and stared at it.
     
     
"Is this me?" he asked. There was a hollowness in his voice that Mitch was sure would be impossible to fake.
     
     
"Seems to be," he said.
     
     
"Kristoff ... " The man stared. "Kristoff," he said again. He looked at Mitch. "What kind of name is Kristoff?"
     
     
----
     
     
Mitch faced Doctor Massouf, who was looking at a chart.
     
     
"I need to know if he really has amnesia, or if he's just faking it."
     
     
The doctor looked up. "And vye vould he be faking eet?"
     
     
"You said he got shot," said Mitch. "Maybe he's hiding something."
     
     
"Eef I vas shooted, I tink I vould be screaming my head oof abut eet, yes?" The doctor frowned. "Not all peeples who are shooted are being bad peeples."
     
     
"I think he's hiding something," insisted Mitch.
     
     
"Haff you asked heem who shooted heem?"
     
     
"Well no ... not yet," admitted Mitch.
     
     
"Eef I ver you I vould be asking heem this, I tink," said the doctor. "I am not being a psychiatrist, you know, but he is acting very much like a peeples who has much frustration about haffing no memories."
     
     
It was the longest comment Mitch had ever heard the doctor make, and the closest thing he'd ever heard from the doctor in understandable English, as well.
     
     
"How long you going to keep him?" asked Mitch.
     
     
"I can be deescharging heem in anozer two or tree days I am tinking," said Doctor Massouf.
     
     
"Don't let him go until I say so," said Mitch.
     
     
"I can't be keeping heem here for no reason," objected the doctor.
     
     
"Just do some more tests or something," said Mitch.
     
     
He left. He had more to do before reporting to the chief.
     
     
----
     
     
Lou Anne's feet hurt, but that was nothing new. She was wiping down the counter when Jessica came in, stomping snow off her feet and brushing it from her coat.
     
     
"There is no God, because God would not have made nights like this," she muttered.
     
     
"It's not night anymore, technically," pointed out Lou Anne.
     
     
"Well, whatever it is, I don't think it was invented by any divine being," said Jessica. "Your boyfriend made it through the night."
     
     
"He's not my boyfriend!" squealed Lou Anne.
     
     
"He regained consciousness, too," said Jessica, settling down onto a stool at the counter. "I need coffee."
     
     
"He did?" Lou Anne already had the coffee poured and set it in front of her friend. "What did he say?"
     
     
"If he's not your boyfriend, why are you so interested?" Jessica sipped the coffee and made motions indicating it was too hot.
     
     
"I found him in the middle of nowhere, almost dead!" yipped Lou Anne. "I ruined my coat saving him. I'm allowed to be curious!"
     
     
Jessica leaned forward and lowered her voice.
     
     
"He's got a nice dick," she whispered.
     
     
Lou Anne's eyes widened and she looked shocked. Then she thought about the image of Jess peeking under a sheet and burst into a fit of giggles.
     
     
"You're awful! " she giggled. "There is something seriously wrong with a woman who checks out a guy's privates when he's almost dead."
     
     
"I wasn't checking him out," said Jessica, her voice injured. "I was giving him a sponge bath. It's part of my job."
     
     
"Probably the part that's responsible for you deciding to be a nurse at all," snorted Lou Anne, grinning. "What did he say when he woke up?"
     
     
"He has amnesia," said Jessica.
     
     
"Really?"
     
     
"Doctor Massouf thinks he was shot."
     
     
"Get out!" squealed Lou Anne.
     
     
"Yep," said the nurse. "Head wound. He was lucky it was only a glancing blow. Personally, I think that's why he has amnesia.