Page 62 of The Same Backward as Forward
No quick and merciful death for me. “You have a name, liar?” I know the second the words are out of my mouth that she’s not going to give it to me, so I press on. “Better yet, what’s mine?”
The instant I ask, I feel my own lack of an answer like a phantom limb, like the parts of my body that have gone dead and numb. It’s a lack not just of my own name but of…everything. Sand through fingers, butterflies to mist—there’s nothing there, absolutely nothing before the moment I opened my eyes and saw hers that first time.
“Your what?” she says tersely.
“My name.” My eyes are shut. My body is heavy. Panic begins to rear its head, but I shut it down.
It’s a short hop from panic to pain.
“My name,” I repeat, and from my tone alone, I know I’m not a stranger to giving orders. But this girl? She stares right through me. It couldn’t be clearer that I have no power here, no power over her.
The bearded man gives me an answer. “Harry,” he grunts.
“Harry,” I repeat. “Harry what?”
“Don’t know.” And just as clearly, Beardy doesn’t care. “I’m Jackson. She’s Hannah.”
I wantedherto give me her name, but this will do. “Hannah.” There’s just something about the way the name feels on my lips. “Spelled the same backward as forward—assuming there’s anHon the end?”
And just like that, I have discovered something else about myself: I like words. Playing with them. Reading into them. With each detail I discover about myself, it becomes that much easier to quell the panic that wants to come.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”Hannahdemands.
“You’re the doctor. You tell me.”
“Nurse,” she corrects.
“Mendax.” Another word, another piece of the puzzle. I have no idea who I am or where I came from or ifHarryis even my real name, but Idoknow when I’m not speaking English. “It’s Latin, forliar,” I continue. “I appear to be the kind of person who recognizes lies when I hear them. You aren’t a nurse, not exactly.” I have no idea when I opened my eyes, but they’re open now. “If I had to make an educated guess about the circumstances that brought me here—and it appears I’m the type to do that, too—I would say that I am most likely a horrible,horribleindividual, and someone wanted me dead.”
That’s a hell of a leap, but bounding over metaphorical and rhetorical canyons feels as natural as breathing—and far less unpleasant. Anddamn it, I want to get a reaction out of her.
“Am I getting warm, not-nurse Hannah?”
“You don’t remember.” That’s Beardy again. I ignore him like I was born ignoring things I don’t want to hear, and I focus only on her: Hannah, of the palindrome name and the everything eyes and the oh-so-obvious distaste for me and everything I represent.
Whatever that is.
“Amnesia.” Hannah speaks like a person used to rationing her words. The second she saysamnesia, I can feel the box in which I’ve caged the worst of my pain begin to crack.
No.I grapple for pieces of the puzzle to hold on to.Hannah. Jackson. This place.They didn’t take me to a hospital.Why?My body is badly burned, and myhead—“Tell me, Hannah the Same Backward as Forward: Are you the one who bashed my head in?”
The question is supposed to distract me from the pain a little longer, but it has the opposite effect.It hurts. Everything hur—
I surge upward.
“I’m the one who’s going to,” Hannah tells me sharply, grabbing hold of my shoulders, “if you don’t lay back.”
She just threatened to bash my head in, and still, her hands are so damn gentle, skirting my burns. I give in—to her touch, to her. Keeping my eyes open is a losing battle, but apparently, I take perverse pleasure in fighting battles I know that I cannot win.
“I don’t know who you or Too Much Beard over there are,” I tell the angel who wants me dead and won’t let me die. “Hell, I don’t know whoIam. But I have the distinct feeling that I’m the kind of person who could bring your entire world crumbling down… just… like…that. So now would be a good time for someone to tell me what the hell is going on here.”
I have to stay angry if I want to stay conscious. Already, my ears are ringing so loudly that I can barely pay attention to the bare-bones explanation Hannah offers me, to words likeexplosionandcliffandocean.
“Right now, the two of us are all you’ve got,” she finishes scathingly. “So shut the hell up and takethese.”
The second I realize that she’s holding pills, the ringing in my ears stops.
“Don’t mind if I do. I think I might be fond of pills. But these…” I stare at them.Another piece of the puzzle.“These, I seem to find disappointing.”
