"Good morning and goodbye, Abraham." Henry greeted his son with a quick hug and pulled away to descend the stairs.
"Where are you going so early?" Abe asked. "At least eat some breakfast," he urged him.
"No time," he replied, over his shoulder. "I'll pick something up along the way." As he made his way out of the shop, he felt it was best not to alert his son to the fact that Lt. Reece intended to be present during the re-enactment and had requested a briefing in her office that morning. He didn't want to burden his son with any more details surrounding the planned re-enactment. The less he knew about it, the less he'd worry, Henry decided.
Nearly an hour later, he'd arrived at the OCME, having grabbed a coffee from the pastry cart on the corner. He now sat in Reece's office along with Jo and Mike. Reece had just finished reading his three-page confession and now sat behind her desk, blinking her eyes rapidly, her mouth slightly open and appearing to be uncharacteristically at a loss for words. Understandable, he thought. If he were in her shoes and knew nothing about immortality, he would conclude that the person who wrote it was either joking or insane. Reece finally found her voice.
"Doctor ... ," she began, "first let me say that it's good to see you back on the job. You were sorely missed and I believe I say that for all of us," she added, looking at the two detectives who nodded in agreement.
"Thank you, Lieutenant. It's good to be back," he replied. It did feel good to be back. He enjoyed working here, working with Jo and the rest of them, weathering the ups and downs that went along with the job. He just wondered if they could weather this particular down.
"However, I have to admit that this," she said, pointing to the confession on her desk, "has to be the most ridiculous, most confusing thing you've ever done. You don't really expect us to believe any of this, do you?" Her tone was accusing, bordering on anger, her welcoming smile of only a few moments ago gone.
Henry sensed Jo's worried eyes on him and wished again that all of this wasn't happening. That he could wipe away her worries and they could all just go back to the way they were just a few weeks ago. He sighed, choosing his words. "Most people don't believe it. About my condition, that is. That is, until it's proven to them." Jo and Reece shot worried looks at him. Mike, who had kept his eyes lowered to the floor, jerked his head up and shot a worried frown at him, as well.
"Whoa, whoa, Doc," Mike said, patting his raised hands at him. "What are you sayin'?"
"Rest assured, all of you, that I have no intentions of proving my curse of being able to die and rebirth today." He looked at each one of them and quietly added, "Although one day it might become necessary to do so."
"Henry, tha-that just sounds ... crazy," Jo stammered out, shaking her head. She still wasn't sure what she believed anymore but the thought of him killing himself to prove his immortality just sounded ... crazy. And she was certain that she didn't ever want to see that.
"Yeah, Doc," Mike joined in. "We just wanna help you get beyond these ridiculous charges that Farber leveled at you. I know that he recanted and you were released, but most people only remember the crash. They don't hang around for the cleanup."
Henry smiled a bit at Mike's remarks and replied, "If, by that you mean that most people are more interested in hearing bad news instead of good news, I agree." He took in a deep breath and released it. "If the past has taught me anything, it's that I cannot be so thin-skinned as to concern myself with what others think of me. It's my life and I have to live it the best way that works for me. Whether surrounded by friends or ... on my own."
He looked at Reece, aware of the misgivings running through her mind. "Might I offer a suggestion, Lieutenant?"
"Sure. Go ahead," she replied, sighing.
"We should simply concentrate on the portion of my confession that describes the exchange between Farber and me if that will be more helpful."
"Alright, then," she breathed out. "Let's get started. Oh, and by the way, it's a go for this Friday evening."
vvvv
A snippet of conversation flashed through Lewis' mind, causing his breath to catch in his throat and his eyes to blink rapidly. "Wha-what did you say?" he stammered.
"Asked if you were feeling nostalgic." The word 'nostalgic' grated once more on his sensibilities like frantic, high-pitched, musical notes on a violin.
'Makes one feel (sucking breath in) nostalgic.'
vvvv
Lewis sat on his hospital bed deep in thought about his visit to his office late last night. His memory was coming back at a quicker pace now, something for which he knew he should be very grateful. But the way that these puzzle pieces were slowly coming together was letting him know that he had cultivated a less-than-desirable past existence. It sickened him. It also made him wonder if he'd done anything else like shooting Morgan, that warranted criminal prosecution. And why was he not charged or even questioned about having shot him?
The framed photo of him with his wife and children now sat atop the plastic and metal nightstand next to his bed. He reached for it and brought it closer to him. When he heard the click-clack of stiletto heels, he knew that they belonged to his psychologist, Dr. Karen Willoughby. He put the photo back on the nightstand and waited for her. She was nice. Easy to talk to. He liked her. Because of that, he was totally unprepared for what came next.
She stopped at the foot of his bed, glaring at him. Her eyes moved from him and over to the photo on the nightstand. She looked at him again and rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "What are you doing with that?" she demanded. "Have you truly lost your mind?"
Confused, he replied, "This is my family; my wife and children. Why wouldn't I have - " she cut him off before he could finish his question.
"You have no family! This," she hissed, pointing at the photo, "is a prop! The woman and kids are models, actors!" Willoughby watched him closely for his reaction, one of astonishment, and couldn't believe what she was seeing. "You really thought ... ?" she asked, scoffing. Then her face hardened as she stood close to him and leaned down nose to nose with him. "I am your family, Adam. No one else. I'm the one whose helped you in the past. To get your job, to funnel psychos to you so that you could manipulate them into doing your dirty work."
His mouth worked but no sound came forth. He couldn't believe what she was telling him. That she now spoke of such cruel things as if to insinuate that he was some type of master manipulator and a fraud. And why was she calling him Adam? He was Lewis. Lewis Farber. He put his hands to his ears to block out her voice and began to hear his own voice shouting "No! No! No! No! Get out! Get out! Leave me alone! No! Go away! Go awayyyyyy!"
Willoughby continued in her tirade, reminding him that they had been lovers, that he said he would love her forever. That at first she'd thought his memory loss was just a charade. He kept his hands up to his ears trying his best to block out her words but images of their nude bodies entangled in a sweat-soaked frenzy bombarded him.
"No, no, it can't be," he whimpered. Had he really manipulated others into doing bad things for him? How? More images bombarded him now. The faces of men and women; sad, lost, troubled faces looking to him for something, for - .
"Is everything all right here?" a concerned voice asked.
Lewis opened his eyes, only then realizing that he'd squeezed them shut. The concerned voice belonged to Nurse Dani, part of the dayshift team. His heart was pounding in his ears making it difficult to hear what Willoughby said to her but she nodded and quickly left.
Willoughby turned her attention back to him and whispered, "It's important that you remember who and what you are, Adam. You're of no use to me like this. All nice and polite like that bleeding heart, Morgan."
"Why do you keep calling me Adam?" he asked. "My name is Lewis."
"Silly goose, that's your cover," she told him. "Don't you remember you said you would tell me your real name one day." She straightened up and plastered on a false smile when Nurse Dani reappeared with a tray that held a syringe and a small bottle of clear liquid.
Lewis watched, speechless, as Willoughby prepared the injection and Nurse Dani swabbed alcohol on his arm. He snatched away from her and demanded that they both leave.
Willoughby calmly informed him that he'd had a breakthrough but as a result, he needed something to calm him down. "We don't want to have to force this on you, Lewis, but we will, if necessary." Her blue eyes pierced his as she lowered her head and asked, "Now, allow me to minister the medication or would you prefer I call the orderlies to hold you down?" Nurse Dani looked nervously between the two of them. She visibly relaxed when Lewis positioned his arm to her again.
"Wise decision, Lewis," Willoughby told him. She tested the syringe by allowing some of the medication to squirt through the needle. "This will help you rest and when you wake up, you'll feel like a new man."
He felt the sting of the needle in his arm and the warmth of the medication spread quickly to pull him into a dreamless sleep.
