Dec. 8, 2009
Dr. Asif Kamal paced about the dimly lit room nervously, not sure where he was, why he was there, or for how long. Plain white walls framed the scene with a small, buzzing lamp directly in the center of the ceiling. A table rest in the center, also white, with two hard-backed white chairs on either side. On one side of the room there was a plain white door with white hinges and a white knob. Dr. Kamal struggled with that knob in frustration, shaking it viciously despite the handle clearly being locked.
"Hello?!" He yelled out, his voice cracking in fear. Not a single decibel echoed off the white walls, and no one responded to his cry. "Please! Somebody help me! Hello?!"
He continued to pace, feeling the walls and searching in vain for some crack, some protruding feature in their perfectly flat, white surface. Anything to break the monotony of their hold over him. He slammed his fists against the wall and began to weep, but quickly regained his composure and sat down, opting for the floor instead of one of the chairs. He sat there for what felt like hours, but assuredly was only twenty or thirty minutes.
Suddenly the door opened and in walked Commander Jack Spears with a box in one hand and a small clipboard with attached pen in the other. He closed the door behind him and introduced himself to Dr. Asif Kamal.
"Dr. Joseph McCartney, I presume?" he said happily, placing the box and clipboard on the table and extending his hand in friendship. Asif extended his hand nervously and shook, clearly taken aback by the uniformed man that just appeared before him.
"I don't know, to my regret, sir." He muttered politely, "I woke in this room not long ago and seem to have suffered some injury for I do not remember who I am or why I am here."
Commander Spears smiled contently. "Yes, of course, I'm sorry. I wasn't sure what your condition would be, but you appear to be affected just like the others." He removed his glasses and began to clean them on his sleeve. "Please, take a seat."
Asif sat down cautiously, the good commander not far behind. "Others?" He asked patiently.
"Yes, I'm sorry to inform you, Joe, but you've been the victim of a terrorist attack." Jack looked at him sternly and with conviction. "You are in an isolation unit for quarantine because we have determined that the effects of the drug are highly contagious. I'm sorry to inform you that you'll need to remain here for some time."
"I see..." Dr. Kamal exclaimed, not a note of disappointment in his voice but instead patient understanding. "That is most unfortunate, but I understand that precautions must be taken. Why do you appear before me without protective gear, then?"
"We have developed a vaccine that, unfortunately, does not also serve as a cure for the condition. The good news, however, is that we are seeing many examples of people snapping out of it, so we think it's only a matter of time." Jack crossed his arms on the table. "The weapon is not sophisticated."
"That is good news, then." Asif looked down briefly. "So what are we to do in the meantime?"
Jack stood up and began rifling through the box he brought with him. "We are going to perform some exercises with a dual purpose. I am going to show you items that we've retrieved from your home in an effort to give your memory a kick start while at the same time serving as an objective measure of your recovery. Twice daily we will go through each of these items and I will record your level of recollection. Sound OK?"
"Yes, yes... Absolutely. Of course I'm happy to cooperate." Asif said with reservation.
Jack smiled again. "OK, let's begin." He pulled out an old stethoscope. "Does this ring a bell?"
Dr. Kamal examined the stethoscope carefully. "No. No it doesn't. I am familiar with the device, though, of course."
"Do you remember your occupation?" Jack asked.
"Yes." he said. "I was a physician. Emergency medicine."
"Excellent! You are making fine progress already, Joe." Jack leaned forward and slapped him on the shoulder, making Asif smile nervously. "The stethoscope is yours. Notice how the ear pieces have been chewed slightly? We're told that was one of your neuroses. You don't remember?"
"No." Asif said quickly. "Who told you that? A colleague? A family member? Can I see them?" He asked pleadingly.
"In due time, Dr. McCartney, I promise. Please let's stay focused for the time being." Jack broke eye contact and began searching through the box again.
"O-OK." Asif stuttered. "I'm sorry."
"No, I'm sorry Joe. I wish this was easier but we have a method about this."
"Of course."
"OK, how about this?" Jack held out a small iron crucifix, the kind with a statuette of the savior hung across it. "Do you recognize this?"
Asif took it from him and turned it over, feeling the contours of the object. "No. I've never seen this before."
"I assure you of the contrary, Joe. We found that hanging over your bed. There was a similar one in every room of the house." Jack looked at him nervously. "Do you remember anything about your faith?"
Asif looked confused. "No, not a thing. I assume this means I am catholic, however?"
Jack smiled again. "Yes. From what we understand you were quite active in your church." His face dropped. "That is sad. I'm sorry."
"I imagine it's loss would hurt more if I could remember it." Asif said sullenly.
"Yes, I suppose that's true. I brought a bible with me in case you remembered." He removed a book from the box. "Would you like me to leave it here?" Jack asked with intent interest.
"No. That's OK. Thank you. I would not read it." Asif replied while looking away. Jack frowned and placed it back. "I can't even remember any of the details of the religion. Isn't that strange? I can remember many details about many things, like my medicine and the history of the world, but why can I not recall even the essentials of the catholic faith?" He looked down in confusion. "... and I seem to remember a fair amount about Islam, which is...."
Jack interrupted him bluntly. "You were a scholar of many things, Dr. McCartney, and took a particular interest in all religions." He placed sunglasses on, which was strange since it was such a darkly lit room. "We theorize that you would specifically remember more about those faiths that you did not directly practice."
"I see." Dr. Kamal whispered. "That makes sense, I suppose."
Commander Spears cleared his throat and reached in the box. "We only have one more item to show you. We'll be back later today to go through all of these items again to see if anything comes back." He pulled out a small music box and placed it on the desk. "This one may be difficult."
Asif leaned forward and pulled the music box towards him. He wound it up and then slowly opened it, and inside rest a small ballerina that rotated as the miniature chimes within played a crude version of "Once Upon a December." He stared intently at it as it sang to him and a smile crossed his lips that was soon replaced with a grimace.
"Yes, I do remember this." He said.
Jack scowled. "You do?"
Asif looked up sullenly. "Yes. It belonged to my daughter..."
Jack quickly jotted some notes on the clipboard and began to gather himself. "Yes, that's correct Joe."
"... and my name is NOT Joe!" Asif said angrily, looking sternly at Commander Spears. "What are you trying to do to me?! I remember everything now! You took me during my rounds at the..."
Jack grabbed the music box, still playing it's song, and threw it violently against the wall. It shattered into a hundred pieces. Asif quickly ran to it and fell to his knees. "You bastard!" He yelled.
Commander Spears grabbed his things and walked briskly towards the door. He took a small walkie-talkie from his hip. As he pressed firmly into it's side an audible beep could be heard, and he began speaking into it in a stern and unpleasant manner. "Another subject recovered memory within seconds of exposure to real personal item. I don't care what Karen says about the late development of liver cancer, we're upping the levels of nitrogen in the cocktail. Shut down lights in interrogation room #13 and re-administer the drug, with changes, in the morning." He stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind him.
Dr. Kamal remained on the floor and held the intact ballerina cupped in his hands. He turned it over and over, tears welling in his eyes. Suddenly the lights went off accompanied by the loud sound of a switch flipping, their buzzing coming to an abrupt stop, and the only thing left for Asif Kamal to hear was his tearful sobbing.
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