“What? Why?”
“So I can note them for the doctor.”
“But why? How important can my dreams be?” Berwin asked.
“They can be very important. They might provide the key to unlocking your memory. They might enable us to help you in dealing with the trauma of your accident,” Krittenbauer said.
“I had no idea,” Berwin responded. “Okay. From now on I’ll let you know about every dream.”
Nurse Krittenbauer smiled. “Fair enough. Is there anything you’d like before your family arrives?”
“Any chance of getting a set of clothes?” Berwin inquired. “This hospital gown is drafty.”
“Your folks are bringing clothes for you, I believe.”
“Do they know about my amnesia?”
She nodded. “Doctor Milton told them.”
“How’d they take the news?”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t there,” Krittenbauer said, and studied him for a few seconds. “You seem nervous about meeting them.”
“Wouldn’t you be?” Berwin asked. “They’re my family, but I don’t remember a thing about them. Not one solitary fact. They’ll be like strangers to me.”
“They’re nice people. You’ll like them.”
“Will they like me?”
“What a ridiculous question. Of course they will,” she replied. “And seeing them will be great therapy.”
“I hope you’re right,” Berwin said nervously.
Nurse Krittenbauer stepped to the door. “Why don’t you try to relax while I check on the doctor and your family.”
“I’ll try.”
She smiled and departed.
Berwin rested his head on the pillow and stared at the ceiling. If he was lucky, maybe the shock of meeting his family would jolt him into recalling his past. He desperately wanted to remember, especially the beautiful blonde woman he’d seen in his dream. Somehow—call it intuition, a sixth sense, or whatever—he knew the woman existed. She wasn’t merely a figment of his imagination. He felt compelled to identify her. A frown creased his lips at the thought of the upcoming days, weeks, months, even years, he might have to wrestle with the enigma of his existence. Who was he, deep, deep down?
A light knock sounded on the door and in walked Doctor Milton, grinning congenially. “Hello, Mister Berwin.”
Berwin sat up, his gaze on the doorway. “Where’s my family?”
“Waiting in the corridor,” Doctor Milton said as he came over.
“Bring them in,” Berwin prompted.
“In a minute. Are you ready to meet them?”
“I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life,” Berwin assured him.
“Really? Well, I’d advise you to prepare yourself for the worst. I don’t mean to dash your hopes, but I’ve seen enough cases like yours to know how the typical patient reacts. I imagine that right about now you’re on pins and needles.”
“You don’t know the half of it.”
Doctor Milton put his right hand on the giant’s shoulder. “Then allow me to submit some unsolicited advice. Don’t permit your expectations to soar too high. You may remember events in your past when you see your family. You may not. There’s no guarantee.”
“I realize that.”
“Good. Do you also realize how much of a strain this will be on your family? Remember, they haven’t talked to you in three months. And they’re extremely upset about the amnesia. They’ll probably be awkward and nervous. Don’t hold it against them.”
“I won’t,” Berwin promised.
Doctor Milton nodded, appraising his patient carefully. “Okay. Then I guess you’re as ready as you’ll ever be.” he turned toward the door. “Nurse Krittenbauer, you can bring them in now.”
Berwin leaned forward expectantly, his abdomen tied in knots. He glued his gaze to the doorway and held his breath, his hands clenched at his sides.
Into the room came three people.
First to enter was a tall, gray-haired man dressed in a blue shirt and brown pants. His eyes were blue, his nose thin, his features ruggedly handsome. He strode directly to the bed and reached for Berwin. “Son!
Son! At last!”
Although his initial reaction was to recoil and push the man away, Berwin let himself be hugged, trying hard to cover his disappointment. He hadn’t recognized his own father! It was as if a total stranger embraced him. Over his father’s left shoulder, he studied the two women who were coming toward him.
In the lead was a stocky woman in her sixties. She wore a light green dress and held a black purse in his left hand. Streaks of gray accented her otherwise-sandy hair. Her cheeks and jaw were both fleshy. Tears welled in her green eyes the instant she saw him. “Son! You’re with us again!”
Berwin’s father moved aside so his mother could hug him. and Berwin felt her wet tears on his cheek as she pressed her face to his and kissed him.
“Oh, son!”
“Mom? Dad?” Berwin said, his forehead furrowing in mounting chagrin. He didn’t know his mother either!
“Bobby?” interjected the second woman. She appeared to be a few years younger than Berwin. Blonde hair fell almost to the small of her back. Her athletic form was clad in a red blouse and black slacks.
“Sis?” Berwin responded, and for a fleeting second he experienced a stirring within him, as if he was about to recall something important. But the moment passed, leaving him with the blank slate he called a mind, and he almost pounded on the bed in anger.
“Do you recognize me, Bobby?” his sister asked.
“Bobby?”
His mother clasped her right hand to her mouth in astonishment. “Oh, no!”
“You don’t know your own name?” his father inquired in a dazed tone.
“I knew my name was Berwin,” the giant said, and winced at their pained expressions.
“Bobby, it’s me, Trish,” said his sister. She came closer and tenderly touched his cheek, her blue eyes reflecting her concern. “Don’t you remember me?”
Berwin looked from one to the other, then stared at the foot of the bed, his broad shoulders sagging. “I’m sorry. No. I don’t remember any of you.”
His mother started bawling, and his father took her into his arms to comfort her.
“I warned you this might happen,” Doctor Milton interjected. “Don’t take it personally.”
“Why should we do that?” Trish responded, her tone making the very idea sound ridiculous.
“You never know,” Doctor Milton said. “I once saw a mother who got mad at her daughter because the daughter couldn’t remember her.”
“We’d never get mad at our Bobby,” the mother managed to say between sobs.
Berwin gazed at them. “I’m truly sorry. The last thing in the world I’d want to do is cause you any grief.”
“It’s okay, Bobby,” Trish said. “We understand.” She gave his left hand a squeeze. “The doctor told us you’ll need time to recover. But knowing you have amnesia doesn’t lessen the shock, you know?”
“Tell me about it,” Berwin said.
Trish laughed. “At least you haven’t lost your sense of humor.”
The father cleared his throat. “Son, I want you to know that we’re behind you one hundred percent. We’ll stick by your side until this ordeal is over. Don’t worry about your medical expenses. The insurance will cover everything.”
“Who cares about insurance at a time like this?” Trish declared testily.
Berwin’s father shrugged. “It’s always nice to know.”
Trish glanced at the physician. “How soon can Bobby come home with us?”
“That will depend on his progress. His release will be at my discretion.”
“Wouldn’t his memory return faster if he was in familiar surroundings?” Trish persisted.
“As I told your brother a few minutes ago, there are no guarantees. The amnesia will simply have to take its course,” Doctor Milton said.