Page 4 of When Forever Stays

It should be another easy question, but I draw another blank. My heart starts to pound frantically as the silence stretches.

“Being in the ocean?” I’m not confident in my answer, because I can’t actually remember, but it does make sense. She narrows her eyes. I try to come to some sort of understanding of my circumstances by piecing together what I can see. I’m in swim trunks, with no shirt or shoes, there’s a strap around my ankle with frayed edges as if it was separated from whatever it was attached to, and I’ve been washed up on shore. “I was surfing,” I say, and as the words come, it sounds right. But I can’t tell if my imagination is conjuring up the image of me paddling into deeper waters or if it truly happened.

“Okay, that’s a good start.” Her brows pucker as if in thought. “Do you think you can walk?”

“Maybe?”

“Let’s give it a go, but first, I’m going to give you a list to remember. Then we’re going to try and get you to walk to my car to get you to the hospital. If you can’t, I’ll need to call the paramedics. Sound good?”

The thought of being placed on a stretcher does not appeal to me, so I mentally prepare for whatever happens when I get to my feet and nod my agreement. “How about you tell me your name and that will be part of my list?” The corner of my lips lift.

A gentle smile breaks through her serious expression.

“That’s fair.” She taps her chin as if in thought. “Okay, here’s the list. My name is Dana. Your name is Rhett. This is Amber Island, and my favorite food is pineapple. Repeat it back to me.”

“Your name is Dana, my name is Rhett, this is Amber Island, and your favorite food is pineapple.”

“Perfect. I’ll ask you again in a bit.”

“Dana.” Her name is out of my mouth before I can stop it.

“Yes?” she asks.

“I just wanted to see if saying your name again sparked any memories.”

She tilts her head to the side, her brow scrunching adorably. “Why did you think that would spark a memory?”

“Because when I looked into your eyes just a few minutes ago, it felt like you’re someone who’s important to me. Is that a crazy thought?”

Her sharp intake of breath brings more questions to the surface.

“So we do have a history, don’t we, Little Siren?”

Her wide eyes immediately narrow into slits. “Little Siren?”

“You don’t like it?”

“It doesn’t fit. Sirens are deadly.”

“Well, my siren is life-ly.”

“And that’s not a word.”

“It is now.” I wink. I don’t know if this is how I usually act or if it’s something about this woman, but I can’t help myself. These little moments between us help me push down my pain and frustration.

“Okay, Webster, let’s get you to the hospital before you spout more nonsense you’ll regret.”

I’m confused again. “Webster? I thought you said my name was Rhett.”

She tries to hide her smile with her hand, and that minor action has the tension draining out of me. “You know, Webster’s dictionary?” She wrinkles her nose. “Or maybe you don’t remember. Either way, Webster’s dictionary is what most English-speaking people use to define words or check if a word is actually a word.”

I mutter, “Clever girl.”

A slight blush blooms on her cheeks before she drops down low enough that I can sling one arm over her shoulders. She stands, and I force down the numbness in my limbs. The tingling sensation in my legs becomes nearly unbearable, but I grit my teeth and propel myself up until I’m standing at my full height. My choices are to press past my limits or be taken in by the paramedics. Dana gives me a few moments to adjust, then we shuffle along, and I allow this little siren to take me to safety.

“How far is your car?” I ask.

“At my place. Not far from here. Besides, I want to take you there first anyway to?—”

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