His response was a downshift of the gears, and the truck glided into the snow, the plow slowly descending. “If it weren’t this nasty outside, we’d be there in five minutes. I’ll get us there in seven.”
“I can’t thank you enough.”
“Given my ornery tendencies, I can only imagine I must have been quite the troublemaker in whatever young life I had before this one, so I really don’t mind kicking up the dirt once in a while. Even though that couple was strange, I got a bad feeling when those cops arrested them. I don’t like that it happened to you too, especially now knowing that you, and maybe those other two, came here to find somebody they loved. Maybe I’m just jealous, because no one ever came to find me.”
“You don’t remember anything? At all?”
“Blank as a clean chalkboard. Sometimes a word or a first name will sound somewhat familiar, but that’s it.”
“And your whole life it’s been that way?”
“My whole life. I woke up in White Crest as a teenager, not knowing anything. That first year, they gave me the name Ethan. But it never felt right. Then one of the nurse’s names was Joseph, and it just felt right to me, felt authentic—more so than Ethan. So I took that name, and forty some years later, I’m Joe the snowplow guy.”
“I‘m not sure how old you are, but I’m guessing you’re about my age. You must have friends, family, somewhere.”
“I assume I do, but where? No one ever came looking, and I have no memories before White Crest. The hospital said I was found by the side of the interstate, lying in a ditch. No injuries besides a knot on the back of my head. No car accident, nothing. Who can say? I don’t match any missing-persons cases in Colorado or anywhere else that I could find. Seems like to me someone wanted to get rid of me, or I was involved in something bad and ended up dumped. Who knows? Good doctors up there at the medical center, though. They taught me everything to act like a human being again. It all came back quickly, and for that I’m grateful. I’m sure your boy’s getting good treatment. How it is you knew he would be here?”
“It’s a long story. Let’s just say an old friend thought he might be in this town. But I’ll be honest with you: I had no idea there was even a hospital here. And how can a hospital even exist in this remote of an area?”
“It’s too small to be a true hospital. Amnesia is their specialty. Maybe I was a mean kid who got drunk and blacked out and conked my head. Again, who knows? I owe a lot to the good people up there. And I never had to pay a dime. I guess they assumed I didn’t have health insurance, since I didn’t even have a driver’s license. Some of us need to even be retaught how to read, how to walk. I’m lucky, I guess; I picked up everything pretty quickly.”
“That’s where my grandson has to be. I have to find a way to get in. I should just bypass going to see the teacher. Could you just drive me to the medical center?”
“I’d take you right now, but you have to have a code to get in after hours, and the staff is mostly gone this time of night, especially in this weather. And they change the code from time to time; there’s a lot of turnover. Miss Cliff has the current code, that’s for sure. I’ve been gone from White Crest for a long time, and honestly, I’m in no hurry to go back. The loneliness, the confusion, the anger, you can’t imagine what it’s like to have no memory. And honestly—most of the patients don’t leave. They can’t. They can barely function. Can’t comprehend light switches, microwaves, even straws. Sarah’s the only one I’ve ever known in the past couple of years who could even hold a job.”
“So it’s not only memory problems the patients have?” I thought of how damaged William may be. If I could relearn, so could he….
“Oh, it’s memory problems, all right. They can’t remember their past, and many of them can’t remember what happened yesterday. It’s like dementia, I think. It’s awful.”
“Why would my grandson be there? Be in this town?” I clenched my hands together. “How did he get here?”
“Can I ask what happened to him?”
“I don’t know if you’d even believe me if I told you. The last time anyone saw my grandson—William is his name—was in the forest behind our house. He simply vanished. My husband… is a politician. We all feared he’d been kidnapped.”
“Obviously, I never get to see the news. Now I wish I did. And where do you live again?”
“Tennessee. Nashville.”
He whistled low. “William disappeared from Tennessee and now he’s in the Rocky Mountains? My God…”
We drove in silence for a while through the growing snowdrifts. You’re wondering where you came from, I thought as I glanced at Joe’s puzzled face. Maybe somebody did want to find you.
Joe slowly applied the brakes. “Here we are.”
He pulled up next to a row of houses covered in the falling snow. “That’s Miss Cliff’s house, with the light on. My house is only three down. I’ll walk you up, introduce you.”
“Joe, I’m so sorry, but I have another huge favor to ask you.”
“Ask away.”
“I’m very worried about my friend Roxy. I told you she drove off out of town to try and find a phone to call my husband. Would you mind looping back to see if she made it out OK? I wouldn’t ask, but you seem quite capable of navigating the snow.”
“I start the clearing on the main drag, so I have to go that way anyway,” he said with a smirk. “But I have a feeling that you don’t want me to be there when you talk to Verna.”
“It will be easier to turn me away if I have an escort. She can’t leave me outside in this.”
“Well, she might. She’s pretty tough. Even though those kids could blow on her and she’d fall over, I’ve seen her tear into them from time to time. Well, if she does kick you out, or she won’t answer the door, go down three houses, mine is 333, the one with the dead plant out front. Keys underneath that. Snow’s calming a bit, but it could pick up anytime. Don’t you let her toss you out if the snow kicks back up; you could have died back there. Anyhow, I’ll be back. I’ll take the road all the way to the interstate to make sure your friend isn’t in a ditch somewhere. If you’re not at my house when I get back from my rounds, I’ll snoop around and see if you made it into her house.”
“God bless you, Joe,” I said, opening the door.
“Three houses down, Miss Lynn!” he pointed.
I gave him a grateful wave and stepped down, realizing the snow was still fierce but not as blinding as before. Thankfully, there was a light on in the front room. Mustering up my most pathetic face, I reached out and rang the doorbell. When no one answered, I knocked on the glass. The hallway beyond remained dark.
I shivered, walking down the porch and crunching through the snow to approach a bay window. The curtains were parted, and I could see legs propped up in a recliner, a hand laying limp over the armrest.
I rapped on the glass. When the hand didn’t even flinch, I pounded with my fist.
The teacher from the park sat up suddenly and looked around, disoriented. I knocked again, and the woman turned to the window, her wig slightly askew. She stared at me as I waved desperately. Miss Cliff’s mouth gaped a little, and muttered a series of curse words that I could easily make out.
She pulled the wooden lever on the chair and slowly climbed out, glaring as she shuffled into the front hall. I hurried around to the porch once again and waited by the door. The light in the hall came on, and the curtains on the small window in the door parted.
“Are you insane?” she asked through the glass.
“Please, I need to speak with you.”
“How in God’s name did you end up here?” The woman’s wizened eyes narrowed, blinking rapidly.