Feedback is loved unconditionally.
- Thumper
Chapter 3
Weird
There was a knock at the door and then a second later Amita and Larry came through, carrying a couple of boxes. "We found the stuff from the old cases back," Amita said, "But no one has come back to-" she cut off mid-sentence as she took in the room before her. Everything looked pretty much normal. The chalkboard that had been rolled in about an hour ago although was perfectly clean, not even a sign that any chalk had ever made contact with it. That was the first tip to her that something was wrong. The second was the sight of her fiancé at his desk, his head down buried in his arm, who had clearly not heard her at all.
Amita put the box of files she had been carrying on the table. "Charlie?" she said a bit hesitantly at first, then louder. "Charlie!"
His head jerked up at the sound of his name and he blinked his eyes a few times until they adjusted. Amita regarded him closely. "Charlie, were you sleeping?" she asked incredulous.
He looked from Amita, to Larry, to the chalkboard, and then back to Amita again. "No, I was… I was just…" he knew he was caught and said almost sheepishly, "Yeah, I was. I must have dozed off or something." That was the truth. The last thing Charlie remembered was sitting down at his desk to try to clear his head so he could think straight. That was about- he looked at the clock- an hour ago.
Amita came over and sat on the desk by his left side. "You do remember you have a lecture in five minutes, right?"
Larry looked at his watch. "About three, actually," he corrected.
For a minute, Charlie just stared at her, then he remembered clearly and panic set in. In an instant, he was up, bolting through the office to collect the papers he needed.
"I'll take that as a no," Amita said to herself as she watched him dash across the room.
"You know, Charles, I'm not sure where this sudden spark of lateness came from," Larry said, resting his elbow on a box as he watched Charlie fly back and forth. "But I sure hope you've accomplished a way to be ridden of it by this Sunday."
Charlie paused for a moment in his rush and put his hands out, paper in each, exasperated, "What's Sunday?"
Now it was Larry's turn to hold out his hand exasperated. "Only the public lecture you've been getting ready for three months. Really, Charlie, I know this last case has been hard on you, but I've never seen you with such alack of memory. Are you sure you're alright?"
"I'm fine," he snapped. But the truth was he was anything but fine. Ever since Stacy Morgan had been found dead, he had felt… off. It seemed like he couldn't think, every time he would try his head would get fuzzy and light and nothing would come through. It had taken him days to prepare for the class he had in just a couple of minutes. And it seemed like he had been passing out wherever he was, no matter what time of day it was. And of course, there were the weird amnesia blotches, like the public lecture on Sunday. Which was two days away and he wasn't even prepared for yet.
And then of course he didn't trust his work he did for Don anymore.
"I have to go," Charlie muttered and pulled his bag off the desk. He got two steps before everything he had just put in flew out, scattering around the floor. He stopped dead in his tracks, rubbed his forehead and sighed. It seemed like he was becoming clumsy lately too.
Amita bent down to pick the mess up and handed it to him. "Thanks," he sighed and gave her a quick peck on the cheek before practically sprinting out the door.
"Good luck," she mumbled after he had left.
Larry watched where his former student had left and then looked to Amita. "Are you as concerned about him as I am?" he asked.
Amita chewed her lip for a moment watching the doorway. Then she broke her gaze away to the files and clean chalkboard. "I guess we should get started. Don wants something soon."
Larry nodded and they started going through the old case files again, searching for something they missed before.