CASE 05: Truth Must Be Waited For

"Truth is power, but only when one has patience and requires of it no immediate effect. And one must have no specific aims. Somehow, lack of an agenda is the greatest power. Sometimes it is better not to think in terms of plans; here months may mean nothing and also years. Truth must be sought for its own sake, its holy, divine greatness." -Romano Guardini

It has been days, no weeks, since the man named Jack Overland regained consciousness and he was immediately placed under surveillance by the doctors, nurses, and Head Detective Elsa- and it was she who observed him the most.

Even now, she was reading one of the submitted reviews by the corner of his room and looked up occasionally whenever Jack Overland grumbled and muttered under his breath, which was, in fact, often. It was evident that he hated being stuck in the bed, and the hospital- more or less, she mused. However, it was rather strange to see the extent of his hatred and discomfort of hospitals, nurses, and doctors. It was bizarre because this was the hospital he demanded for on the day of his misfortunate accident and it had been his workplace for the past few years. He should be feeling safe in this building and trust his caretakers as they were his colleagues and friends.

Elsa sighed, she truly wished she could explain this to him, but she was well-advised not to do so by one of his friends, who was the boss of the neurology and psychology departments. He stated it would do more harm than good to tell him the whole truth as his mind was quite fragile at this point. They had to be patient and wait for him to remember all of his past on his own. To be precise, the patient was suffering the traumatic amnesia. Doctor North concluded it was uncertain when he would regain his memories. Nevertheless, force was not the answer to his problem.

She understood what the doctors meant and that they had good intention. In fact, she'd seen a fair amount of cases where victims required a very long time to recover from their trauma. That was something she witnessed several times and she could respect it. However, it was different with this particular victim, Jack Overland. His distrust in the medical team led to sarcastic, often rude, and vicious commentaries and, of course, he never forgot to give each of them a death glare. The responses he gave were far too drastic and the instincts she honed as a detective told her there was something lying in his mind. He had to remember something and the secrets lurking in his brain was the underlying cause for his aggressiveness.

So she asked him a couple of times, "Why do you push them away? They are your good friends."

Whenever she asked him that question, he would pause for a few seconds and then coldly remarked, "So they say... But I don't remember them. They are practically strangers. If you woke up from a coma and a bunch of people stated: I am your closest friend, would you trust them? Or better yet, why should I trust them? That would be stupid and illogical."

Then she would logically point out, "But you trust me and we have never met."

He would fall silent again and stare at her and she too would fall silent. His beautiful blue eyes pierced through hers and his eyes looked very sad. Then he would quietly beckon her to come over by his side and she felt compelled to move closer to him as he had asked. To her mild surprise, he would firmly hold her hands and stare deeply at her face and said, "But I remember your hands. Your voice. I know I am being illogical and that instincts proves nothing, but I feel like I can trust you. I feel as if I've known you for the greatest amount of time."

As he softly spoke those words, his face would relax and she would feel the warmth of his hands. Then she would quickly pull her hands away as it was not an unprofessional behaviour and his gesture was only extended due to his condition. Mr. Overland wouldn't show his emotions to others, but as long as she stayed by his side, she saw him look so confused and troubled during the sleepless nights. Some nights, she would pretend to sleep, but the detective heard him cry alone.

During the mornings and afternoons, he would sneer from time to time, cause mischief, and rant to nurses and doctors. As for her, he would banter playfully and go onto his wheelchair and zoom around the large hospital. It was almost like taking care of a little boy. He couldn't stand sitting still in his room all day. There seemed to be a countless amount of reasons why he had to leave his bed.

He would say, "I am a patient and my job is to get better. I can't get better with the crappy, hospital food." Then he would call in food deliveries, go into the doctors' lounge and eat any food in the refrigerator, or ask the nurses or doctors, who were his "friends", to go buy some decent food for him.

On other occasions, he would remark, "The bed is like a plank of wood. How on earth am I supposed to relax on it for twenty-four hours? I need to stretch my limbs." Then amusingly enough, he would climb on board the wheelchair and zoom around the large hospital, causing havoc one way or another. For example, like a child, he would hog elevators and only allow her to join him.

On different times, he would have to go to therapy to recover his mobility and muscle control. On such days, he would sweat profusely, grind his teeth, and power himself through the pain until he would return back to his room and take painkillers and sleep for several hours. It was during these hours, she would read over new and old cases.

Then there were days where he would simply gaze out the window for hours without uttering a single word. It was on those days when she felt worried about him the most because she could only wait for him to remember. Then there were nights when he would have panic attacks from nightmares. When everybody asked him what his dreams were about, he wouldn't dare speak of it. Those were the most difficult times for everyone.

Elsa was about to sigh as these thoughts filled her mind, but, they came to a stopping halt as Jack said, "Do you want to go out right now? You look troubled."

She smiled at his subtle kindness and she said, "You're bored again, aren't you?"

He said, "Kind of... There isn't much to do in bed."

She raised her brow and said, "Aren't you being honest today. You usually croak how the service isn't a lot like a five-star hotel service. Then you stubbornly get onto your wheelchair before wheeling yourself out."

Jack scoffed and joked, "I am always nice. What are you talking about?"

He frowned as he struggled to get out of his bed and she shook her head as she went to go help him dismount the bed. There was a hint of frustration across his expression; his brows were stitched close together. He sat on the wheelchair and propelled himself forward. She sat aside the document which she was reviewing and followed after him.

Today he aimlessly drove himself around the hospital. She never knew what he was seeking during his little adventures throughout the building, but he always went and roamed around the hospital. People would stare at them as they were an unusual pair; a woman in a black suit and a man in a wheel chair going through every medical department. He would observe some patients and tell her his diagnosis before moving onto the next person who interested him.

As they continued their usual routine, a little girl bumped into his wheelchair. For a moment, there was a fierce glare and Elsa felt an immediate sense of danger. It was also normal for Jack to vent against other people who bothered him during their trips. She expected him to growl a menacing threat, but instead his face turned gentle. The girl looked to be only seven years old and she was uniquely blind.

The child said, "I'm sorry for bumping into you."

He softly answered, "It's alright. Where do you need to go, sweetheart?"

The detective was mildly shocked. He usually bit people's head off when he was in a foul mood- which was rather often because of the pain and the confusion. It made her wonder if he was recalling his deceased family... his little boy.

She said, "I'm trying to go back to the pediatric room."

He asked, "Do you need help?"

She asked back, "Are you a doctor?"

He replied, "Yes, I am and there's also a really nice lady who can help us too."

He looked up at Elsa and she awkwardly said, "Of course we can."

The child finally smiled and said, "Okay!"

Jack said, "You can hold onto my wheelchair."

Thus, the girl held onto his wheelchair and he guided her slowly to her destination. Elsa observed them quietly as she followed the two and the little girl asked, "Are you hurt, Mr. Doctor?"

Elsa's lips thinned because so many people asked him that precise question, but he always ignored it. For the second time, she was surprised as he answered, "Yes, I am hurt."

It was the first time to hear him admit his pain and it was the girl who helped him admit the truth. She wondered if it was a child that could help him the most as they arrived into a room filled with children. Then she watched him, he sat there and watched all the kids smile and play with each other.

Ah- there was that look again. His eyes revealed his usual hidden confusion as he clutched his head.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter and I can't wait to hear your reviews! Thanks for reading.