Chapter XII "I must remember to forget that...", Part I

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"May I come in?" asked the doctor, from where he waited at the entrance to Fräulein Stein's room.

"Did you bring coffee?" the Fräulein asked in reply from her floor-to-ceiling three way mirror where she was standing on her toes, trying to see what she looked like from behind.

"Yes?" the doctor told her, raising the tray he carried so she could see.

"Then gimme!" the Fräulein called out, like a man in the desert calling out for water. She leapt from the mirror platform and ran the few steps to the doctor, grabbing the steaming mug and sipping the dark brew before making a bitter face. The doctor set the tray down on her desk, and the Fräulein took the opportunity to add milk and four sugars.

"Thanks man, I owe you," Fräulein Stein said to the doctor, pure relief spreading across her features as she held the mug in both hands, breathing in the steamy aroma and sipping the milky mixture.

"Oh, well, it was..." replied Pretorius before he was interrupted again.

"Have you ever worn a dress?" the Fräulein asked as she set down the coffee and returned her attention to the mirrors.

"What?" asked the doctor, taken off guard by the question. "Yes. Well, no. That is to say, my mother used to, I mean, I was very young... No. No, never. Why do you ask?"

"It's just really weird," she said as she checked the length of her skirt, which barely reached her fingertips as she held her arms at her sides. "It feels like I don't have any pants on, you know?"

"Well... you don't," said the doctor, not quite seeing the problem.

"Well, duh!" replied Fräulein Stein with the obligatory eye roll. "Obviously, but I don't mean like that! It's like, if you went to school and you weren't wearing any pants, you know?"

"Once more, perhaps I am not the one you need to discuss this with," suggested Pretorius, yet again attempting to extricate himself from a conversation with the girl.

"I mean, look at this!" she continued, ignoring the doctor's discomfort. "There's like, yards and yards of material in this skirt, but it doesn't actually cover anything! Does anybody really need to see this much of my legs? And then it rides up when I sit! Seriously, how much skirt do you think is left once I sit down in this? Answer: None!"

"I assure you, you look fine!" Dr. Pretorius told her. "Everything in your closet was selected by your own fashion experts, and is exactly what any other girl your age would wear."

He attempted to move the conversation along, saying, "You appear to be suffering from some form of amnesia brought on by traumatic brain injury. Your primary concern should be to attempt to recover your memories, and I am sure all your (rather odd) questions will then resolve themselves."

"You think?" said the Fräulein, again standing on her toes and twisting to see left and right in front of the mirrors.

"Yes, I do think," replied the doctor. "Now please, put on some shoes and come with me. I've arranged this morning for something I believe will help to answer all your questions."

Fräulein Stein stepped into her heels, then picked up her coffee and followed Dr. Pretorius out the door and down the hall. She continued to steal glances behind her as she walked.

"Seriously, can you see my butt in this?" she whispered to the doctor.

Pretorius rolled his eyes and ignored her as they arrived at another room. Opening the door, the doctor ushered the girl in.

"It is imperative that you regain your memories as quickly as possible," the doctor told her. "I have therefore taken great pains to assemble this, your 'Memory Room'. Everything here is meant to elicit memories of your life, to remind you of who you are."

The Fräulein looked around. The room was filled with stacks of documents and photo albums. The walls were covered with diplomas and awards, and pictures of old ladies were everywhere.

"So what do you want me to do?" she asked.

"Simply look at all the items in the room," Pretorius explained. "Everything in this room is a clue to your former life. Here you will find your name, your history, your passions. Look at everything, and be open to the thoughts and feelings they arouse."

"Thoughts and feelings?" she wondered aloud. "Passions? From contracts, and old newspaper clippings?" she said, opening one of the photo albums to find it did not even contain photos.

"Just promise me you will stay here, and look at everything!" said Pretorius in exasperation. "If you can just draw out your hidden memories everything will make so much more sense, I assure you!"

"Well, yeah. Sure," replied Fräulein Stein. "I'll give it a try."

"Good. I will leave you to it then," said the doctor with relief. He bowed out the door, and closed it behind him.

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