TEN YEARS LOST COPYRIGHT 2013, RZEVANS
Melba Westbury was living alone. All her children except George had married and left the nest. George was going to school in Norman, Oklahoma and probably wouldn't be home until Christmas. It was hard getting used to an empty house, and it was going to be a long four months. Sometimes, she wished that Alex was still in her life, the constant fighting, however, had disturbed the kids to the extent that the couple finally agreed to part. Two years after the divorce, Alex moved to another part of Houston, and since the move, she hardly ever saw him, except on the rare occasion of a graduation, wedding, or some other such event. Their marriage hadn't been all bad; she realized now that the things they had fought about were often of no consequence, and she blamed herself a lot for that. There should never have been a power struggle; Alex felt he was being overruled at every turn. He finally remarried, and Melba had no idea of how that was going. As sorry as she was about it all, there was no use dwelling on the past; nothing could ever change now.
The telephone rang, and George was on the line. "Mom, can you talk to the service man here at the garage and put a new alternator on your master card?" asked George, "I haven't been able to get hold of Dad for two days." Melba gave the ok for the alternator and was thankful it wasnt't a call about an accident. The traffic in Norman, Oklahoma wasn't nearly as bad as Houston, but accidents could happen anywhere, she thought. She forgot to give him the sermon on studying hard and taking care of himself, but she told herself that she was going to have to stop acting like he was still in high school. She wondered why George couldn't get hold of Alex; when he wasn't at the nursery, he always carried his cell phone.
The phone rang again and it was Alex's wife. She sounded a little perturbed. She hadn't heard from Alex in two days, and people were calling their home wanting to know about their orders. Melba said she hadn't heard from him and that George had just called her and said he hadn't been able to get hold of his dad.
Early the next morning, there was a knock on Melba's door. Upon opening the door, she saw a ragged Alex: dirty, torn clothes, mussed hair, and dried blood on the right side of his head and down his neck. In a confused state that matched his appearance, he said, "Melba, honey, can you pay the cab driver. I don't know where my billfold is, I guess I must have lost it." Then he limped down the hall toward the bath room. Melba grabbed her purse and walked out to the drive. She asked the driver where he picked Alex up. The driver said Alex had flagged him down as he was entering one of the ramps out toward League City.
She hurried back in and found Alex trying to get the dried blood off. "What happened to you?" she asked.
"I don't know," he said, "I guess I was making a delivery, and the next thing I remember was crawling out of the truck. I didn't go back to the nursery; I just came on home. I need to go to bed; I don't feel so good. Will you wake me in the morning."
Melba decided to let him go to bed; she could see he probably could supply no sensible answers with the shape he was in. The question was whether to call Phyllis today or wait until tomorrow. She decided Alex would get no rest if she called Phyllis today. She would trot right over to take him home, or she might even try to send him bvack to work. Melba's first impression of Phyllis had been that she was kind of on the goofy side.
Alex slept all day and all night. Melba began to worry that she might should have taken him to the emergency room; he could have had a concussion. Early the next morning, she was sitting at the table sipping coffee, when Alex came into the kitchen and asked, "Where are all my clothes?"
Melba examined his face for any hint of warped humor or mischievousness, but there was none. She decided to be noncommittal in her answers to see where all this was going. "We'll find you some of George's," she said.
Alex laughed and said, "You know I can't wear George's clothes; they are way too small."
"We'll find some somewhere," said Melba, "sit down and have some coffee; I'll fix you some toast and eggs."
After placing the eggs and toast in front of Alex, Melba gently asked him, "How old do you think George is now?"
Alex answered with a smirk, "You think I have my head in my work so much that I don't pay enough attention to the kids, right? Well, I know George is exactly nine years and six months old; his birthday was in February, you baked the basketball cake, and Nancy spilled a whole glass of fruit punch on her lap. I still don't know how you ever made that cake work,some more of your magic in the kitchen."
Melba smiled for a moment, and then the reality really hit home. Alex honestly didn't know what was going on. She thought for a minute and then said, "Dr. Murray called and wants to go over the last lab reports with you again. I am going to take you to his office this morning. Take a bath while I find you some better clothes. Melba knew Geroge's clothes would fit Alex fine, maybe just a little loose in the waist. George had put on a few pounds in the last year, probably all those pizzas the kids were eating. While Alex ws bathing she called Dr. Murray's office and quickly told Ilene, the receptionist, about the accident, the partial loss of memory, and how she was going about convincing Alex to see the doctor. It was strange that Alex hadn't commented on her own obvious aging, ten years worth.
Upon entering the examination room, Alex asked the doctor what was wrong with the last tests that the doctor had made. Dr. Murray said that could wait, he ws more interested in the accident that Alex had been in and wanted to check out his head wound and dress it. After a thorough exam, the doctor announced that there seemed to be no concussion; all of Alex's responses seemed to be normal. Then the doctor asked Alex if he knew the approximate date of his last exam and lab tests. Alex said he thought it was sometime in April because he had to take off time from work in the busiest part of spring. The doctor said it was in April, but it was 1999, ten years ago.
"What do you mean, doctor?" asked Alex.
"In all the years you were my patient, I never lied to you Alex, and I am not going to start now," said the doctor, "the accident, the blow to you head, plus some unexplainable factors have made you lose part of your memory. I want you to see a physician friend of mine who has some expertise in this kind of sitruation. Now this will be shocking news to you but stay calm. Your memory lapse seems to consist of about ten years. In that time, you and Melba divorced, and in the last two or three years you've been with another woman."
"You're kidding, right?" asked Alex.
"No, said the doctor, we're deadly serious here; you are going to need a cat-scan to rule out physical damage to the brain. Dr. Manning will order that, and then you two will go from there."
"Honey, say this isn't true," said Alex.
Melba took his hand and said, "Don't worry, Alex, we'll work through this, just like the time Teresa had encephalitis."
When they arrived home, Melba coaxed Alex to have a seat in his old easy chair. She turned the lamp on and asked if he wanted to watch some old reruns on TV. She reminded him that Dr. Murray didn't want him to return to work until after his appointment with Dr. Manning. She fixed him a bowl of ice cram, and when his attention was diverted to the TV, she went into the kitchen and picked up the wall telephone. Well, here goes nothing she thought; she dialed Phyllis's number and waited for the pickup. After several rings, a female voice came on the line and said, "Hey Jim, you took your own good time calling back."
Melba was startled to the extent that she almost hung up. "This is Melba, I am calling to tell you that Alex has been in an accident, he sustained a head injury, and arrived at my house yesterday in a confused state. I took him to the doctor this morning, and he apparently has had a memory lapse. Dr. Murray wants him to see Dr. Manning, a specialist. Alex doesn't remember anything that happend during the last ten years. I think it would be best for him to remain here in familiar surroundings until he has received treatment and regained his memory.
"What kind of a cockamamie story is this. What am I going to do about all these phone calls I'm getting from the customers. This sounds like a lot of BS. Tell him to get his ass back to work," shouted Phyllis. Melba just hung up the phone. If Phyllis came on over, she would just handle it, but for some rason she didn't think she would show up, maybe she had plans with JIM.
The sheriff's patrol found Alex's truck on the outskirts of town. The truck had left the highway and plowed through some woods. They said they were lucky to have spotted it and the truck looked as if it had been sideswiped by a big rig of some sort. They had called Phyllis first, and she had told them to call "the bitch", giving them Melba's number. The sheriff's department was informed of the circumstances and that Alex was home safe but in a questionable state. Melba found that Alex had continued to deal with the same insurance agent they had always used, and she informed tha agent of the whole situation. He said he would handle everything, which was a relief. Melba said to herself that Phyllis would just have to deal with the nursery business as best she could.
Dr. Manning found no unusual physical abnormalities and decided that a large emotional-mental factor must be present, and the memory lapse was precipitated by the blow to the head. He didn't want Alex to try going back to work yet.
Melba would arrive home each evening to find the house clean, the dishes washed, the beds made up, and the driveway swept. Alex would be in his easy charr asleep or watching TV. When he watched the news, she would often see him shaking his head slightly, finding things hard to believe.
Dr. Manning asked Melba what did she think was relevant about the time period that Alex had reverted to. Melba said that it was the happiest time in the family's life. At that time everything seemed to be going right. The doctor told her that he couldn't say when or how Alex would regain his memory; it could be in patches of time, or it could be all at once. He recommended patience and support.
Phyllis finally came to see Alex. Before Melba could tell Alex who she was, he said, "I know you' you're the girl who worked at the country club where I was planting all the trees." Phyllis frowned and said the reason she came was to tell Alex she was getting a divorce.
As it turned out, there weren't a lot of assets to divide. Phyllis had spent most of the money as it was being made; Alex rented the nursery lot, and his inventory had been sold down. So there was only the old fork lift and a few trees that were left to sell; the truck was a total loss, and there was no collision insurance. He and Phyllis had been leasing a townhouse, the lease of which was up the month of the accident. Phyllis got to keep the Ford Taurus. The only expenses facing Alex were the medical ones, and luckily he had carried medical as well as liability on the old truck.
If Melba had been married, or was dating, or had a boyfrined, the arrangement she was now facing would have been impossible or extremely awkward, but as it was, she saw no hurry to change the situation. She and Alex were not intimate, and they had different bedrooms, although there was some occasional touching, holding hands and such. The sheriff deputies had found his billfold in the truck, and his clothes and other personal belongings were retrieved from the townhouse. Melba had Charley Angle, one of Alex's old friends, to start looking for an old, good running pickup. She was really enjoying Alex's presence.
At breakfast one morning, Melba asked, "Do you remember the little house on Clay Street that we lived in so long?"
Alex answered, "Yes, I bet the trees have really grown by now."
"It's for sale; let's buy it and sell this house,: said Melba, "then I want to ust the extra money to start a little nursery over there."
"But we're not married anymore," answered Alex.
"You asked me last time," said Melba, "I'm asking you this time."
They agreed to a quick, quiet wedding. Pastor Freeland was very glad to see them again and performed the ceremony in the parsonage of their old church, with his wife and the church custodian as witnesses.
The little house on Clay Street was purchased on the contingency of the sale of their present home. The sale closings were within two weeks of each other and required vacating the larger house right away. They settled into the smaller home the first week of December, and all the family was informed. The first to arrive was George. As George walked in the door, his dad grinned and said, "Hi George." A sudden paleness came over Alex's face; he began to shake, and as he slumped down in the nearest chair, he started crying in hard convulvsive sobs. George looked questionably at his mother, and she shook her head slightly, saying, "I'll tell you all about it later."
Melba Westbury was living alone. All her children except George had married and left the nest. George was going to school in Norman, Oklahoma and probably wouldn't be home until Christmas. It was hard getting used to an empty house, and it was going to be a long four months. Sometimes, she wished that Alex was still in her life, the constant fighting, however, had disturbed the kids to the extent that the couple finally agreed to part. Two years after the divorce, Alex moved to another part of Houston, and since the move, she hardly ever saw him, except on the rare occasion of a graduation, wedding, or some other such event. Their marriage hadn't been all bad; she realized now that the things they had fought about were often of no consequence, and she blamed herself a lot for that. There should never have been a power struggle; Alex felt he was being overruled at every turn. He finally remarried, and Melba had no idea of how that was going. As sorry as she was about it all, there was no use dwelling on the past; nothing could ever change now.
The telephone rang, and George was on the line. "Mom, can you talk to the service man here at the garage and put a new alternator on your master card?" asked George, "I haven't been able to get hold of Dad for two days." Melba gave the ok for the alternator and was thankful it wasnt't a call about an accident. The traffic in Norman, Oklahoma wasn't nearly as bad as Houston, but accidents could happen anywhere, she thought. She forgot to give him the sermon on studying hard and taking care of himself, but she told herself that she was going to have to stop acting like he was still in high school. She wondered why George couldn't get hold of Alex; when he wasn't at the nursery, he always carried his cell phone.
The phone rang again and it was Alex's wife. She sounded a little perturbed. She hadn't heard from Alex in two days, and people were calling their home wanting to know about their orders. Melba said she hadn't heard from him and that George had just called her and said he hadn't been able to get hold of his dad.
Early the next morning, there was a knock on Melba's door. Upon opening the door, she saw a ragged Alex: dirty, torn clothes, mussed hair, and dried blood on the right side of his head and down his neck. In a confused state that matched his appearance, he said, "Melba, honey, can you pay the cab driver. I don't know where my billfold is, I guess I must have lost it." Then he limped down the hall toward the bath room. Melba grabbed her purse and walked out to the drive. She asked the driver where he picked Alex up. The driver said Alex had flagged him down as he was entering one of the ramps out toward League City.
She hurried back in and found Alex trying to get the dried blood off. "What happened to you?" she asked.
"I don't know," he said, "I guess I was making a delivery, and the next thing I remember was crawling out of the truck. I didn't go back to the nursery; I just came on home. I need to go to bed; I don't feel so good. Will you wake me in the morning."
Melba decided to let him go to bed; she could see he probably could supply no sensible answers with the shape he was in. The question was whether to call Phyllis today or wait until tomorrow. She decided Alex would get no rest if she called Phyllis today. She would trot right over to take him home, or she might even try to send him bvack to work. Melba's first impression of Phyllis had been that she was kind of on the goofy side.
Alex slept all day and all night. Melba began to worry that she might should have taken him to the emergency room; he could have had a concussion. Early the next morning, she was sitting at the table sipping coffee, when Alex came into the kitchen and asked, "Where are all my clothes?"
Melba examined his face for any hint of warped humor or mischievousness, but there was none. She decided to be noncommittal in her answers to see where all this was going. "We'll find you some of George's," she said.
Alex laughed and said, "You know I can't wear George's clothes; they are way too small."
"We'll find some somewhere," said Melba, "sit down and have some coffee; I'll fix you some toast and eggs."
After placing the eggs and toast in front of Alex, Melba gently asked him, "How old do you think George is now?"
Alex answered with a smirk, "You think I have my head in my work so much that I don't pay enough attention to the kids, right? Well, I know George is exactly nine years and six months old; his birthday was in February, you baked the basketball cake, and Nancy spilled a whole glass of fruit punch on her lap. I still don't know how you ever made that cake work,some more of your magic in the kitchen."
Melba smiled for a moment, and then the reality really hit home. Alex honestly didn't know what was going on. She thought for a minute and then said, "Dr. Murray called and wants to go over the last lab reports with you again. I am going to take you to his office this morning. Take a bath while I find you some better clothes. Melba knew Geroge's clothes would fit Alex fine, maybe just a little loose in the waist. George had put on a few pounds in the last year, probably all those pizzas the kids were eating. While Alex ws bathing she called Dr. Murray's office and quickly told Ilene, the receptionist, about the accident, the partial loss of memory, and how she was going about convincing Alex to see the doctor. It was strange that Alex hadn't commented on her own obvious aging, ten years worth.
Upon entering the examination room, Alex asked the doctor what was wrong with the last tests that the doctor had made. Dr. Murray said that could wait, he ws more interested in the accident that Alex had been in and wanted to check out his head wound and dress it. After a thorough exam, the doctor announced that there seemed to be no concussion; all of Alex's responses seemed to be normal. Then the doctor asked Alex if he knew the approximate date of his last exam and lab tests. Alex said he thought it was sometime in April because he had to take off time from work in the busiest part of spring. The doctor said it was in April, but it was 1999, ten years ago.
"What do you mean, doctor?" asked Alex.
"In all the years you were my patient, I never lied to you Alex, and I am not going to start now," said the doctor, "the accident, the blow to you head, plus some unexplainable factors have made you lose part of your memory. I want you to see a physician friend of mine who has some expertise in this kind of sitruation. Now this will be shocking news to you but stay calm. Your memory lapse seems to consist of about ten years. In that time, you and Melba divorced, and in the last two or three years you've been with another woman."
"You're kidding, right?" asked Alex.
"No, said the doctor, we're deadly serious here; you are going to need a cat-scan to rule out physical damage to the brain. Dr. Manning will order that, and then you two will go from there."
"Honey, say this isn't true," said Alex.
Melba took his hand and said, "Don't worry, Alex, we'll work through this, just like the time Teresa had encephalitis."
When they arrived home, Melba coaxed Alex to have a seat in his old easy chair. She turned the lamp on and asked if he wanted to watch some old reruns on TV. She reminded him that Dr. Murray didn't want him to return to work until after his appointment with Dr. Manning. She fixed him a bowl of ice cram, and when his attention was diverted to the TV, she went into the kitchen and picked up the wall telephone. Well, here goes nothing she thought; she dialed Phyllis's number and waited for the pickup. After several rings, a female voice came on the line and said, "Hey Jim, you took your own good time calling back."
Melba was startled to the extent that she almost hung up. "This is Melba, I am calling to tell you that Alex has been in an accident, he sustained a head injury, and arrived at my house yesterday in a confused state. I took him to the doctor this morning, and he apparently has had a memory lapse. Dr. Murray wants him to see Dr. Manning, a specialist. Alex doesn't remember anything that happend during the last ten years. I think it would be best for him to remain here in familiar surroundings until he has received treatment and regained his memory.
"What kind of a cockamamie story is this. What am I going to do about all these phone calls I'm getting from the customers. This sounds like a lot of BS. Tell him to get his ass back to work," shouted Phyllis. Melba just hung up the phone. If Phyllis came on over, she would just handle it, but for some rason she didn't think she would show up, maybe she had plans with JIM.
The sheriff's patrol found Alex's truck on the outskirts of town. The truck had left the highway and plowed through some woods. They said they were lucky to have spotted it and the truck looked as if it had been sideswiped by a big rig of some sort. They had called Phyllis first, and she had told them to call "the bitch", giving them Melba's number. The sheriff's department was informed of the circumstances and that Alex was home safe but in a questionable state. Melba found that Alex had continued to deal with the same insurance agent they had always used, and she informed tha agent of the whole situation. He said he would handle everything, which was a relief. Melba said to herself that Phyllis would just have to deal with the nursery business as best she could.
Dr. Manning found no unusual physical abnormalities and decided that a large emotional-mental factor must be present, and the memory lapse was precipitated by the blow to the head. He didn't want Alex to try going back to work yet.
Melba would arrive home each evening to find the house clean, the dishes washed, the beds made up, and the driveway swept. Alex would be in his easy charr asleep or watching TV. When he watched the news, she would often see him shaking his head slightly, finding things hard to believe.
Dr. Manning asked Melba what did she think was relevant about the time period that Alex had reverted to. Melba said that it was the happiest time in the family's life. At that time everything seemed to be going right. The doctor told her that he couldn't say when or how Alex would regain his memory; it could be in patches of time, or it could be all at once. He recommended patience and support.
Phyllis finally came to see Alex. Before Melba could tell Alex who she was, he said, "I know you' you're the girl who worked at the country club where I was planting all the trees." Phyllis frowned and said the reason she came was to tell Alex she was getting a divorce.
As it turned out, there weren't a lot of assets to divide. Phyllis had spent most of the money as it was being made; Alex rented the nursery lot, and his inventory had been sold down. So there was only the old fork lift and a few trees that were left to sell; the truck was a total loss, and there was no collision insurance. He and Phyllis had been leasing a townhouse, the lease of which was up the month of the accident. Phyllis got to keep the Ford Taurus. The only expenses facing Alex were the medical ones, and luckily he had carried medical as well as liability on the old truck.
If Melba had been married, or was dating, or had a boyfrined, the arrangement she was now facing would have been impossible or extremely awkward, but as it was, she saw no hurry to change the situation. She and Alex were not intimate, and they had different bedrooms, although there was some occasional touching, holding hands and such. The sheriff deputies had found his billfold in the truck, and his clothes and other personal belongings were retrieved from the townhouse. Melba had Charley Angle, one of Alex's old friends, to start looking for an old, good running pickup. She was really enjoying Alex's presence.
At breakfast one morning, Melba asked, "Do you remember the little house on Clay Street that we lived in so long?"
Alex answered, "Yes, I bet the trees have really grown by now."
"It's for sale; let's buy it and sell this house,: said Melba, "then I want to ust the extra money to start a little nursery over there."
"But we're not married anymore," answered Alex.
"You asked me last time," said Melba, "I'm asking you this time."
They agreed to a quick, quiet wedding. Pastor Freeland was very glad to see them again and performed the ceremony in the parsonage of their old church, with his wife and the church custodian as witnesses.
The little house on Clay Street was purchased on the contingency of the sale of their present home. The sale closings were within two weeks of each other and required vacating the larger house right away. They settled into the smaller home the first week of December, and all the family was informed. The first to arrive was George. As George walked in the door, his dad grinned and said, "Hi George." A sudden paleness came over Alex's face; he began to shake, and as he slumped down in the nearest chair, he started crying in hard convulvsive sobs. George looked questionably at his mother, and she shook her head slightly, saying, "I'll tell you all about it later."