Blank Slate Kate

Chapter 3

She nods slowly. "Well, I don't see anything medically wrong with you other than the amnesia. I can only assume--"

But I don't get to hear what she assumes because the door opens and I look up to see a tall and alarmingly well-muscled cop.

"This is not acceptable," the doctor says to him. "You're supposed to wait outside."

"I've waited long enough."

I look from one to the other and then back to the doctor. "What's going on?"

The cop ignores me and says to the doctor, "I don't have much time here. You done?"

Her eyes narrow but she says, "Almost." To me she says, "If you've used any sort of drug recently that could affect your memory, stopping will bring it back."

"I don't do drugs!"

The cop laughs. "Nobody does. All right, let's go."

"Please," I say to the doctor. "I don't understand. Why are you letting him take me? I didn't do anything wrong."

She looks uncomfortable but says, "We're concerned about you. Because of Jake and your memory loss. And your supposed mugging. It doesn't add up."

"Mugging?" I say before remembering that Jake told the receptionist that. "It was more of a fight really. But--"

"I'll take it from here, doctor," the cop says. "Let's go, Kate, or whatever your name is."

"No, please, I need Jake!" He understands this time way better than I do. Something's happened and he'll help me fix it.

"He's busy," the cop says in an unpleasant tone. "Let's go."

*****

The cop and his female partner at the station aren't impressed with my tears, but I can't hold them back. "I swear it's the truth. I woke up in his apartment and I have no idea where I've spent the last fifteen years. I just want to go home, but I don't know where it is."

"Listen," the woman says, her eyes softening, "you're safe here. If that Jake is taking advantage of you we can help. If you tell us."

The other officer grunts and turns away.

I sniffle and force myself to speak clearly without sobbing. "He's not. I don't know much but I know that. He's been great to me. Is he okay?" Poor Jake. If he'd left me outside the bar like his boss suggested he wouldn't be in the police station right now. Of course, I'd probably be dead by the side of the road somewhere, or worse.

They exchange glances and leave without another word. They probably can't think of anything else to say, since they've asked me in every possible way, friendly and angry and rude and compassionate, and I've told them the same thing every time. I've told them the truth, even though they don't believe it.

I lean back in my hard wooden chair and sigh. What are they going to do with me? Is it a crime not to know who you are? How could it be? But will they keep me here or let me go? Let me go where? Where do I belong?

I can't answer a single one of these questions, and I've never felt so alone.

Eventually, the two officers come back, along with a short man who radiates authority. "Look, Kate. Can I call you Kate?"

"Of course," I say softly. He can call me whatever he wants, can't he?

"I ask because we don't think your name is Kate. There's no Kate Anderson in any database, at least not one even close to your age. Either of your ages."

I can't tell if he's mocking me. The other two don't look quite sure either.

"Tell me your story."