Clean Slate by Harley Crowley
Chapter 13
It was almost 9:00 and he wanted to call the office before they called him. He took Lou's business card to the kitchen telephone and dialed the main number. An automated menu recording started but immediately a real person answered.
"Halstrom-Pierce. How may I direct your call?"
"Lou Mueller, please."
"I'll connect you." He waited while the phone rang four times, then the line clicked and Lou's recorded voice said, "This is Lou Mueller. I'm out of the office but I'll be back at 9:00 a.m. on Friday, November 4. Leave a message; I'll call you back."
This was better. He could ease into it.
"Hello Lou, this is Brian. I'm really sorry about yesterday. Something complicated has come up. Call me at home."
He'd been thinking about what to say, how to tell them. He wanted to sound normal, even though he wasn't. Since they were waiting for him and then rescheduling meetings to accommodate him, it sounded as if his role was critical and he hated the idea of letting people down. But on the other hand, right now there was nothing he could do.
He poured another cup of coffee and put a piece of whole wheat bread in the toaster. Before it popped up the phone rang. He took a deep breath and then he picked it up and said hello.
"What the fuck, Brian, what's going on there? We tried to find you all day yesterday! Andrea is having a fit. We need that Fitzhugh contract finished for the Monday meeting. You know that."
"I heard that on your messages. I'm really sorry to have just disappeared. Listen, Lou, this is going to be hard for you to believe." He took a breath and plunged. "I've lost my memory."
"What? What does that mean?" He sounded furious. "You forgot we had a meeting?"
"I've forgotten everything. The meeting. My job. My wife. I've forgotten who I am, Lou. My whole life." It sounded crazy to him too.
"Are you saying you have amnesia? You woke up in the morning and you didn't know who you were? Like in the movies? You can't expect me to believe that! Did you get hit on the head or something? Did you take some drug?"
"No, I actually woke up in the park. I was running. I already told you it would be hard to believe. Listen, I don't even know you, Lou. You're just a name on a card and a voice on the telephone. I know your name, and I know Andrea's name." He almost said Katherine too, but caught himself in time. How would he explain that?
"I know I'm a lawyer, and that I work there. Carrie told me that. All I know right now is what Carrie has told me."
Lou was silent on the other end of the phone.
"I don't know what to do next, Lou. About work, I mean. It's all gone. I have no idea when it's going to come back, or if it is."
Lou had found his voice. "If you're shitting me, man, you're dead."
"I'm not shitting you. Those are the true facts. I came to in the park, I had to go to the police and get fingerprinted, and then I got taken to a crummy motel, and finally last night Carrie realized I was missing and called the police and tracked me down. Now I'm home, and it's all strange. I don't even remember Carrie. Do you know Carrie?"
Lou was coming around. "Yeah, I know Carrie, and if you've forgotten her you really are in trouble. This is the most fucking bizarre story I've ever heard. Jesus, what are we going to do now?"
"I wish I could help with that. I really do. But I don't have a clue."
"Have you been to the doctor? Maybe they can fix it."
"I didn't get home until last night. I guess I have to do that next. Find out if I have a brain tumor or something that caused it. Find out if it's temporary, for one thing."
"How are we going to explain this to Corporate? You're the one who's been handling the Fitzhugh thing, and you don't remember it?"
"No. Maybe you should tell them I died suddenly. It's close to the truth. Did I leave papers behind?"
"Right, the files. I'll go to your office and collect them. After I call Andrea in Portland. Oh God, I hate to call Andrea and tell her this. At least I won't have to see her face when she hears. Listen buddy, I'm going to hang up now and try to salvage this thing. You call me after you go to the doctor. I can't fucking believe this."
When Brian hung up he was somewhat relieved. Until he'd found out about Katherine, it was the biggest problem he'd had to face. He shoved aside that thought as far back as he could for the time being and buttered his toast.
He wanted to spend time with the album Carrie got out for him, but first he needed to call Helen Fisher, his rescuer, to tell her he was found. She answered on the first ring and he thanked her again for her help and told her about his last twenty-four hours. It had been only twenty-four hours? It already felt like a month.
"I hope to see you in the park again soon," she said, after he'd filled her in.
"Me too. You're my oldest friend right now." And he laughed, because that was true. "I just want to make sure I know the way home before I go out running again."
"What is your wife like?"
"She's very nice, very smart, very pretty. And pregnant."
"How lovely. What a nice thing to come home to."
It was almost 9:00 and he wanted to call the office before they called him. He took Lou's business card to the kitchen telephone and dialed the main number. An automated menu recording started but immediately a real person answered.
"Halstrom-Pierce. How may I direct your call?"
"Lou Mueller, please."
"I'll connect you." He waited while the phone rang four times, then the line clicked and Lou's recorded voice said, "This is Lou Mueller. I'm out of the office but I'll be back at 9:00 a.m. on Friday, November 4. Leave a message; I'll call you back."
This was better. He could ease into it.
"Hello Lou, this is Brian. I'm really sorry about yesterday. Something complicated has come up. Call me at home."
He'd been thinking about what to say, how to tell them. He wanted to sound normal, even though he wasn't. Since they were waiting for him and then rescheduling meetings to accommodate him, it sounded as if his role was critical and he hated the idea of letting people down. But on the other hand, right now there was nothing he could do.
He poured another cup of coffee and put a piece of whole wheat bread in the toaster. Before it popped up the phone rang. He took a deep breath and then he picked it up and said hello.
"What the fuck, Brian, what's going on there? We tried to find you all day yesterday! Andrea is having a fit. We need that Fitzhugh contract finished for the Monday meeting. You know that."
"I heard that on your messages. I'm really sorry to have just disappeared. Listen, Lou, this is going to be hard for you to believe." He took a breath and plunged. "I've lost my memory."
"What? What does that mean?" He sounded furious. "You forgot we had a meeting?"
"I've forgotten everything. The meeting. My job. My wife. I've forgotten who I am, Lou. My whole life." It sounded crazy to him too.
"Are you saying you have amnesia? You woke up in the morning and you didn't know who you were? Like in the movies? You can't expect me to believe that! Did you get hit on the head or something? Did you take some drug?"
"No, I actually woke up in the park. I was running. I already told you it would be hard to believe. Listen, I don't even know you, Lou. You're just a name on a card and a voice on the telephone. I know your name, and I know Andrea's name." He almost said Katherine too, but caught himself in time. How would he explain that?
"I know I'm a lawyer, and that I work there. Carrie told me that. All I know right now is what Carrie has told me."
Lou was silent on the other end of the phone.
"I don't know what to do next, Lou. About work, I mean. It's all gone. I have no idea when it's going to come back, or if it is."
Lou had found his voice. "If you're shitting me, man, you're dead."
"I'm not shitting you. Those are the true facts. I came to in the park, I had to go to the police and get fingerprinted, and then I got taken to a crummy motel, and finally last night Carrie realized I was missing and called the police and tracked me down. Now I'm home, and it's all strange. I don't even remember Carrie. Do you know Carrie?"
Lou was coming around. "Yeah, I know Carrie, and if you've forgotten her you really are in trouble. This is the most fucking bizarre story I've ever heard. Jesus, what are we going to do now?"
"I wish I could help with that. I really do. But I don't have a clue."
"Have you been to the doctor? Maybe they can fix it."
"I didn't get home until last night. I guess I have to do that next. Find out if I have a brain tumor or something that caused it. Find out if it's temporary, for one thing."
"How are we going to explain this to Corporate? You're the one who's been handling the Fitzhugh thing, and you don't remember it?"
"No. Maybe you should tell them I died suddenly. It's close to the truth. Did I leave papers behind?"
"Right, the files. I'll go to your office and collect them. After I call Andrea in Portland. Oh God, I hate to call Andrea and tell her this. At least I won't have to see her face when she hears. Listen buddy, I'm going to hang up now and try to salvage this thing. You call me after you go to the doctor. I can't fucking believe this."
When Brian hung up he was somewhat relieved. Until he'd found out about Katherine, it was the biggest problem he'd had to face. He shoved aside that thought as far back as he could for the time being and buttered his toast.
He wanted to spend time with the album Carrie got out for him, but first he needed to call Helen Fisher, his rescuer, to tell her he was found. She answered on the first ring and he thanked her again for her help and told her about his last twenty-four hours. It had been only twenty-four hours? It already felt like a month.
"I hope to see you in the park again soon," she said, after he'd filled her in.
"Me too. You're my oldest friend right now." And he laughed, because that was true. "I just want to make sure I know the way home before I go out running again."
"What is your wife like?"
"She's very nice, very smart, very pretty. And pregnant."
"How lovely. What a nice thing to come home to."