Page 3 of Special Agent Joseph

“It’s okay. Don’t fret. Everything will be fine. You’re in the University Medical Trauma Hospital in Las Vegas. We’ve been taking care of you.”

“H-how l-long?” He croaked out the words, his throat stinging terribly.

“Two weeks. You were badly injured, Joseph. But this morning, you turned the corner. Now that you’re awake, I believe you have a good chance to make a full recovery.” Smiling proudly, the doctor lifted Joe’s hand to check his pulse.

“I-I don un-erstan. I’m Mar-mar-cus?” His voice wheezed out the words, taking quite some time, but the patient doctor seemed to understand his questions.

“Yes. You’re Special Agent Joseph Marcus.”

“I d-don rem-ember.”

Suddenly, the doctor stiffened. While doing a swift examination, he spoke soothingly, “No worries. You’re head took quite a knock. It’s early days. Just rest.”

Slowly, Joe reached his hand to his face and felt bandages… the obvious reasons for why everything above his neck felt strange. The strenuous action became so difficult that his strength waned, and he knew no more.

At least a week later, after periods of lucidity but mostly black voids, Joe finally came back to himself. Overcome by the brain fog he’d experienced before, he knew things and yet he didn’t. Like he could describe every part of his body, but he didn’t know his own name.

When the doctors and nurses were with him, he’d question them anxiously. “What happened? How did I get here?”

The most they could tell him was the information gathered in the police statements they’d received at the time of his arrival. Eventually, a stranger appeared wearing a badge who appeared to recognize him. There was clearly something in his expressionthat Joe made out, and yet it wasn’t put into words. This agent didn’t like him. He felt it instinctively.

“Hey Joseph. Glad to see you alive, man… though your pretty mug seems to have taken quite a beating. Hell, with your luck, when the swelling goes down, leaving just the scars, no doubt they’ll add to the rugged good looks your women go for.”

Not knowing what to say in response, Joe kept it simple. “Ahh, hi.”

“The office has been keeping close tabs on you, and the doctor’s reports say you’re doing better.”

“Yeah. I’ve been getting up every day this week. Uuh… what’s your name again? Sorry, everything’s unclear, it’s like I’m living in a fog. How do I know you?”

“We’re kinda partners, well when they force me into it. You really don’t remember me? It’s Tom. I’m Agent Tom Kramer. We’ve worked together on and off.”

“Jesus, sorry man. I-I… yeah, the doc says it’ll come back in time, but I’m a mess right now. Funny thing, this getting bonked on the head. I can remember everything about the world, my body, even the foods I like or dislike, but I have no idea who I am, or how I got here.”

“You mean in Vegas?”

“That and why I’m in the hospital.”

Tom shook his head, cleared his throat in a scoffing way, but peered closely at Joe, his disbelief clear in his sour expression. “Must be hard for a guy like you.”

“A guy like me? What do you mean?” Joe took notice now.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, man. Give it to me straight.”

“Well, let’s just say you’re a loner, a first-class asshole, and no one likes you, but other than that, you’re an agent who works for the Las Vegas Federal Bureau of Investigation. You’re one of us.”

Joe peered at the man sporting thick reddish hair and rounded glasses. He could see by the other’s expression that Agent Tom Kramer meant every word he’d said. This tall, solidly-built man did not like him… not even a little bit.

Now why that bothered Joe, he had no idea, but it did. Jokingly, he asked, “So… is it justyouropinion or is it an overall consensus of the others I work with?”

Tom kind of chuckled and then seemed to realize he was doing so and stopped. “Nah. We’re all pretty much in agreement. You’re a prick.”

Joe laughed. It seemed funny somehow. Why Tom stared at his reaction, he didn’t know, but Joe’s self-awareness had kicked in. Seems like he had a sense of humor.

He’d actually begun to notice this among many things over the last while with the hospital staff. Often, they’d come to his room to take care of their duties and strike up conversations with him. Many times, they’d leave after sharing jokes, cheering him on, and lightening the overall mood.

He swore it helped with his recovery. Secretly, he’d been spending a lot of time exercising his body, walking around his room, and doing some calisthenics. From the look of his frame, he’d say the muscles that seemed weak now had at one time been strong.

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