Okay, even though I vowed to myself to never, ever call Nathan, no matter the circumstances, I had no choice. Because, like I said before, I wasn't going to tell Nevaeh about the memories I've been having. She won't believe me. And I'm definitely not going to tell Dr. Jackson about them. I can only envision how the whole scene will go down:
I'd get myself checked in, he'd call me into his office so he can check on the eyes real quick before letting me speak to him. Once that would be taken care of, he'd ask me how everything was going and if I've been experiencing any side effects. I'd explain to him not really, but after my transplants, I've been experiencing little flashes of memories every now and then that don't belong to me. They belong to what I think might be my donor's.
Yup, that's a one-way ticket to the loony bin. It's the last thing I need, to have Dr. Jackson think I'm losing my sanity.
So, I ended up calling Nathan the next day.
He was actually a bit surprised I gave him a buzz. At first, he asked me the usual questions such as: 'How are you?' and 'How's your family?' I avoided them, trying cutting to the chase. I wasn't in the mood to exchange any formalities. I told him I really needed to talk and asked him when would he have the time. Nathan said we could meet tomorrow during his lunch break. He then inquired where did I want to go for lunch. I told him whatever floated his boat. I truly didn't care.
Now I'm sitting in my Mom's minivan I borrowed and I'm at the parking lot in front of a Chick-fil-A, waiting for Nathan to show up. The A/C's turned on high, making the inside very nippy. Goosebumps dot across my arms but I fool around with the radio as means of distracting myself. I stop changing the channels once a pop station comes on. A Lady Gaga plays through it, although it's almost finished. I decide to leave it there.
I feel very anxious, only because I'm afraid of what I'm going to say to Nathan. Also of how to put it so it doesn't come across like my words are that of a madwoman's. I shouldn't be nervous. Nathan's known me since September of last year, even though it's been a while since we've actually had a decent conversation.
But I still can't help but wonder if he'll think I'm a total nutjob. Knowing someone for some time doesn't mean anything.
In an attempt to calm down, my ears try focusing on the lyrics of the song that's now playing.
Am I wrong
For thinking out the box from where I stay?
Am I wrong
For saying that I choose another way?
It isn't helping. I glance at the clock, chewing on my fingernail. It reads twelve ten. Where the hell is he? He said twelve o'clock and he's not here yet.
I ain't trying to do what everybody else doin'
Just 'cause everybody doin' what they all do
If one thing I know, I'll fall but I'll grow
I'm walking down this road of mine, this road that I call home...
Suddenly, a light tapping sound raps on my side of the window. I gasp, nearly ripping my nail off. I look out and see Nathan. He's standing there in his uniform, smiling down at me. I crack the window open halfway.
"Hey, stranger," he says, leaning closer inside.
"Hi. You're late," I reply.
He chuckles. "That's your fault. You should've told me to be here on time."
"Har har. Why don't you go suck an egg?"
"That'd be a bit problematic since you want us to talk."
I roll my eyes. "Oh, shut up, Nathan. I'm not in the mood."
"All right, no need to be test—" He does a double-take.
"What? Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Did you get contacts? Your eyes are really blue."
"You...you notice my eyes?" I ask.
"How can I not? They're really pretty. Are you wearing contacts?" he answers, still looking at them.
"No, I'm not. I'll explain it to you later."
"Okay. Well, you gonna get out of the car or am I gonna have to drag you out?"
Right.
I take the keys out of the ignition and throw them into my purse. I get out and follow Nathan inside Chick-fil-A.
Surprisingly on a Thursday summer afternoon, the restaurant is almost empty. There are only four people occupying the place: an elderly couple sitting in a booth by a window and another couple, a lot younger by many years but a little older than Nathan and I.
"Wow, this place is practically isolated," I utter.
"You'd be surprised. This place doesn't really get crowded often," Nathan replies.
"I would've thought since it's summer, everyone and their grandmother would be getting lunch here."
He kind of smiles at my poor attempt of a joke. "Yeah, that's true. Are you gonna want anything to eat? I'm buying."
I think about it for a minute. The idea is tempting. I actually am hungry. I didn't bother to eat anything before I came here. But I shake my head.
"Um, not really. You can get me an unsweetened tea."
"Alexis, come on, you gotta eat something. I didn't drive all the way from work to here for us not to have lunch together."
Have lunch together? What does he think this is, some kind of date?
"No, really. I'm fine. I just want an iced tea."
He shrugs. "All right. Be right back. If you wanna find a seat for us."
Once Nathan leaves, I make a beeline for a table that's way in the back of the restaurant. It's the perfect place to talk. It's out of earshot, so no one else will be paying attention to us. I sit down on the chair. Placing a hand underneath my chin, I heave a sigh as my mind begins to contemplate how to explain these things to Nathan. I'm just going to have to see how it goes. Maybe everything will flow easily once I get it off my chest.
From my peripheral vision, I see Nathan walking towards our table. He comes back with an order of a grilled chicken sandwich, a cool wrap, two sides of fries, and two iced teas.
I sigh through my nose. "I told you I didn't want anything to eat."
"Don't be silly, I'm not letting you go hungry. Plus, I already ordered so I can't get a refund. The cool wrap's yours."
"Thanks," I mutter, taking it along with my beverage and fries.
He says nothing else, just smiles. I wait until he takes a few bites from his sandwich before speaking. He seems pretty hungry.
"All right. Talk to me, Alexis. What's going on?"
I inhale a deep breath in and tap my fingers against the table. "Well, um..."
Where do I want to start? With the nightmares? The flash? Or the memories? I don't know, I'm tongue-tied.
"Yeah?"
"Uh...so you know about my corneal transplant, right?" I ask.
"Yes," Nathan answers with his mouth full.
"Okay. I'm going to be honest with you. What I'm about to say is going to sound extremely weird. I mean, a level of weird that's not going to be easy to understand."
He cocks his head to the side. "Okay?"
"This all started after Dr. Jackson removed the patches from my eyes, after the surgery. I had a dream I was walking down a hallway that on both sides had doors aligned. It was either in a hotel or an apartment complex. I'm not sure. I came into a room and was looking for somebody. Once I found them, though, it wasn't the person I was looking for. I felt this strong emotion, something like irritation. It was strong to the point that I snapped.
"I tried leaving but they grabbed me and shoved me onto the bed where they, uh..." I look up at Nathan. He watches me with somewhat wide eyes. "...beat me and strangled me until I couldn't breath. Then that's when I'd wake up. Since then, I've been waking up at one thirty-five every morning from that nightmare. There have been a couple times I've blacked out. Everything around me fades away and I get these memories, little by little. And the ones that come...they're not mine. I've never seen them before."
Nathan takes a long swig of his tea, then swallows. "Can you tell me about them?"
I nod. "Gladly."
The words flow a whole lot easier than I expect them to. First I tell him about the one with Erika as a little girl, how she lived in an apartment with her mother and the guy named Robert. Then, there was that one where Erika and a young man named Adrian went out to see a movie, then went out to eat. Of course I bring up my eye color, how my family and James are oblivious to the sudden change. And how it's odd Nathan's the only one to notice my blue eyes. Everything comes out easily, quickly, like I can't wait to get the story out into the world.
Nathan listens in silence, not even touching the rest of his lunch.
"I'm seeing the things Erika saw before she died. Seeing things I don't want to see. This corneal surgery was supposed to make me see life again like a normal human being. Not show me past memories from a dead girl!"
I pause after I'm done speaking but don't look at him. I stare down at my lap instead. I'm too afraid to see his expression. Before he finally speaks, he clears his throat.
"All these memories...they started coming in shortly after your transplants, right?"
"Mm-hm," I say, taking a long sip of my drink. My throat's dry and hurts from talking. "Sounds crazy, doesn't it?"
"Slightly. But I've heard loonier cases. Yours barely comes close to that." He smiles at me.
"So you believe me?"
"Well, I believe things happen to some people for a reason, even if they're unexplainable. There are things that, you know, go beyond what we consider 'logical.' Maybe that's what is happening to you."
His words ease my mind a little. At least he doesn't think I'm some psycho eighteen-year-old woman who's lost her marbles.
"What do you think it means?" I ask.
"What do you think?"
Both of us know the answer to that.
"These memories are Erika's. I'm remembering things about her life...there's something she wants me to see." Nathan nods. "Why me, though? Why not somebody else?"
"Maybe because you were the girl who was to receive Erika's corneas and it was through that she wanted you to see something."
I mull over what he just said. That's true. Perhaps I'm the one she felt would help her. But I don't know what to do. My mind is so discombobulated.
I sigh and place my face in both my hands. Nathan gets up from his chair.
"You want me to throw that out?"
I look at my food. It hasn't even been touched.
"I'll save it for later. I'd hate to waste it," I reply.
"Okay."
He walks towards the bin and dumps his trash inside. My eyes cast down at the table, staring at the water ring made from the paper cup.
"I need to know who killed her," I mumble to myself.
If I don't, her memories are never going to go away. They'll keep plaguing me until I do something.
"What was that?" Nathan asks. He's already back.
I turn my head to face him.
"I wanna know who killed Erika."
"Oh." I see him reaching for his iced tea and pushing the chair back into its place.
"Are we leaving already?"
"Yeah, I gotta go back. My lunch break's almost up."
"Oh. Okay."
I get up as well, pushing my chair back where it belongs, then follow Nathan out the door. We stand side-by-side, saying nothing. I bite my bottom lip, debating whether or not I should ask him the question that's on my mind. I don't know who else to turn to but him. He's been the only person who's really listened to me. But can I trust him? Can I trust he can help me?
"Nathan?" I suddenly say.
"Yes, Alexis?"
"Um...do you think you can you help me?"
He looks confused for a second. "Help you?"
"Yeah, with finding more about Erika?"
"You're really asking for my help?" Now he smiles at me.
It isn't a complete smile, just a hint of grin around the corners of his lips. For some odd reason, it gives me a warm feeling inside. But I don't let it show.
"I am. I'd do it myself, but—"
"You feel since I'm a cop and I work with law enforcement, I might be able to help you dig around and see what I can find about Erika's murder. Is that it?"
I roll my eyes. "If you want put it that way, then yes."
He chuckles. "I can try but it's not a guarantee."
"Thank you."
"Sure, no problem. I gotta go, but I'll call you later, all right?"
I don't say anything, just nod.
Nathan walks over to his cop car. Once he's in, he starts the ignition, giving me a small wave, then speeds off down the road.
I watch him until he's out of sight. I breathe out through my mouth. Hopefully Nathan can help me with finding out who murdered Erika. Because I don't know how much more of this I can take. These memories of hers are driving me nuts.