Behind the mask, p.8
BEHIND THE MASK, page 8
She got a nice vibe from the doctor, which was a positive sign.
“So where shall I start?” Remi asked, talking fast while fidgeting her hands.
“Relax, this isn’t supposed to be painful,” the doctor assured. “Start wherever you’d like.”
Her mind was such a wreck; she was afraid the doc might commit her on the spot. “Okay—you know I was a hostage right?”
As soon as the doctor stated yes, Remi clammed up. Wanting to put her at ease, Dr. Layton suggested, “Why don’t you tell me how you’re feeling right now?”
Remi cleared her throat. “Confused and guilty.”
The doctor jotted something down.
“Anything I say in here is confidential right?” Remi asked watching the pen dance across the paper.
“Everything you say in here, stays between you and me,” she affirmed. Remi smiled but was still not fully convinced being there was the right move.
“So tell me why you’re feeling guilty?”
“Because I survived and just buried my best friend,” she replied. Right on cue, the tears began to surface.
“That’s completely normal considering the circumstance.”
Remi shrugged.
“This all still very fresh, you have to allow yourself time to grieve.”
“And how exactly do I do that?”
“Coming here is a good start.”
Remi hoped she was right about that.
“Want to talk about what happened?”
“I don’t know what happened!” Her voice agitated by the loss of memory.
“Well, what do you remember about that day?”
Great—more interrogating, she thought. “I got up and went to work.”
“Do you remember being at work?
Remi closed her eyes and concentrated. “No.”
Dr. Layton began rambling about brain injuries and for a brief moment, Remi zoned out. That is until the doctor made a curious statement.
“Sometimes your subconscious will purposely block out a horrific incident. It’s a defense mechanism. The mind’s way of self-preservation.”
“You mean I might not remember cause I’m willing myself not to?”
“Possibly.”
“AHHH—I’m so frustrated!” Remi shouted.
“You just need time to heal, both physically and emotionally.”
A rogue tear rolled down her cheek when she admitted, “I was hoping you would help me remember.”
Dr. Layton handed her a box of tissues. “Hopefully I can help you. It just isn’t going to happen overnight.”
Remi wiped the tear, but, unfortunately, more followed.
“It will get easier.”
She didn’t believe that, but desperately wanted to.
“Be patient and try not to stress. Time heals all wounds.”
Remi was damaged, both inside and out. She found it hard to trust in anything anyone was telling her.
“Have you ever written in a journal?”
“Not really.”
“I suggest you start writing in one. Any thought, dream or nightmare. It can be quite therapeutic.”
Writing wasn’t exactly Remi’s forte, but she was willing to give it a shot. Before the session ended, they touched base on Remi’s family life, which was about much happier, positive things as opposed to the earlier discussion about amnesia and death.
When it was over, she still wasn’t convinced therapy was the answer but booked another appointment anyway.
Liam checked out of the Promenade Hotel and drove to Philly’s University City. His mission was to purchase a wall safe. After completing that task, he continued to three different furniture stores, where he bought an oversized black-suede couch with matching recliner, a two-seater kitchen table, and a king-sized bed. He paid cash for everything, tipping extra to get the items delivered later that day. His next stop was Macy’s in Center City, where he picked up a set of charcoal colored Egyptian cotton bed sheets and a set of white linen bath towels. A quick stop at Lowe’s to buy a vacuum, various cleaning products, two deadbolt locks, and an assortment of tools. His final stop was the apartment. The check had cleared, and he was all set to move in.
After parking in the lot, he thoroughly examined his surroundings. Liam usually sensed if he was being followed, and at that moment, he didn’t get any indication that he was. So he unloaded the truck, ventured inside, and met up with the building manager. Once he retrieved the key, he rode the elevator up to the seventh floor.
He wasted no time installing the safe along with adding two extra deadbolts to the door. Though the apartment had never been occupied, Liam still felt the need to scrub it down. Once finished, he headed to the basement laundry room, where he loaded the sheets into a washer. While waiting, he took out his phone to check the latest news. The first site he clicked headlined Jenna’s funeral.
Liam’s somewhat jovial mood was instantly dampened by the reminder of a hostage’s death. Denial was usually his friend. Only one photo accompanied the piece, a long-range shot of the service, which made it impossible to see who the mourners were. Liam skimmed through the article, searching only for mentions of the gunmen and survivors. There was a blurb mentioned about the two survivors but nothing that he didn’t already know. The subtle hum of the washing machine lulled him into a relaxed state, so he stretched out his legs and closed his eyes for a little while.
After Melanie had dropped her off at home, Remi petted Peanut for a few minutes then retreated to her bedroom. Deciding to follow Dr. Layton’s advice, she located an unused notebook and began jotting down her feelings:
Today I said goodbye to my dear friend. Watching Jenna be buried was the hardest thing I have ever done. No one blames me, but I blame myself. What makes me so special that my life was spared and hers and Wendy’s weren’t? I don’t feel special. I wonder how Steve is doing, I haven’t even checked on him. That’s something I need to do. Maybe I will go see him tomorrow. And the ski mask. Why do I have it and what does it mean? So many questions, so few answers.
She read over what she had written, most of it coming off as gibberish, it didn’t necessarily make her feel any better, but didn’t hurt either. She suddenly felt a headache looming, so she popped two Ibuprofen pills, pushed the notebook aside, and curled up on the bed. She actually wasn’t tired but figured there was nothing else to do, so she called it a night.
With arms crossed, Liam stood in front of a dryer, waiting for the bed sheets to finish up.
“You know what they say about a watched pot?” a young lady’s voice commented.
Liam turned his head to find Melanie standing nearby, practically gawking at him. “You must be new here because I’d definitely remember seeing you before,” she said coyly. He was more annoyed than flattered.
“I’m Melanie.”
He sighed, showing zero interest., but sensed she would be persistent, so he chose to appease her. “Liam,” he said, opening up the dryer, avoiding any kind of meaningful interaction.
“Nice to meet you,” she said. He smugly grinned but didn’t return the pleasantry.
“So did you just move in?” she asked, clearly not getting the hint.
“Today,” he replied matter of fact.
His lack of acknowledgment oddly made him more appealing. This one was going to be a challenge, she thought. A non-apologetic, self-proclaimed shallow person she wasn’t about to give up on someone that good-looking. “I take it, you don’t like to talk much.”
He nodded, still avoiding her. She watched him remove the sheets, toss them in a basket, and walk to the exit.
“Have a nice night,” she yelled out.
Without turning around, he uttered, “Thanks.” Then he was gone. Melanie was disappointed he didn’t say anything else, but figured he was just a cold fish who was obviously immune to her charms.
Regardless, she immediately texted Remi:
Met a really cute guy in laundry room.
When Melanie got back up to the apartment, she announced to Abby, “There’s a new guy in the building.”
Abby could tell just by Melanie’s tone that she was instantly attracted to him and politely listened to Melanie describe him. Though she wasn’t sure why the interest, since other than the obvious good looks, he kind of sounded like an ass.
After another nightmare-plagued sleep, Remi awoke the next morning feeling tired but somewhat better overall. Her first task was to finally confront the mirror. For a couple seconds, she stood in the bathroom, with her eyes firmly closed. But after cursing herself for being such a wuss, she opened them to see her reflection. The tender bruises on her face had begun to yellow, not exactly a flattering shade but a vast improvement from the purple blotches. The stapled incision on the side of her head was another story. It was definitely healing but crusted up blood, tightness, and the almost unbearable itching was beyond irritating. It again reminded her that she was alive, so she needed to stop dwelling on it.
She grabbed a quick shower, got dressed then bopped down the stairs, full of energy. As soon as Tony saw her, he noticed the difference in appearance and demeanor. He commented on how great she looked. “I feel pretty good too,” she announced smiling widely.
Taking a seat at the table, she glanced at the front cover of the newspaper. The headline read, Fugitives Still on the Loose.
“Don’t even read it sweetie,” suggested Beth.
She did anyway. The only thing new was an update on Steve’s condition. He had been upgraded to stable. “That’s great news,” she said excitedly. “Can you take me over to the burn facility after my appointment so that I can visit him?”
Beth nodded.
Remi nibbled on a piece of wheat toast while flipping through the paper. Just then, Melanie casually breezed through the back door, took a seat, then asked what was for breakfast. Beth laughed, then handed her a plain bagel. “You guys are the best,” she said, slicing into it.
“What are you doing here?” questioned Remi.
“Thought I’d drive you to your appointment.”
Tony chimed in, “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”
“Remi is much more important,” she replied winking.
“I appreciate that but you need to work to pay for that fancy apartment you’re living in.”
“Yeah well, I’m probably going to be evicted anyway. Abby is moving in with Andy, so that leaves me without a roommate.”
“They’re moving in together?”
“Yup. Abby didn’t want to tell you at the funeral, but her and Andy got engaged, so he wants her to move in with him.”
“I’m so happy for them, but that sucks for you,” said Remi, knowing what was coming next. And like clockwork, Melanie not so subtlety hinted, “Now if I could just find another roommate.”
Remi laughed. Tony on the other hand did not. “There is no way she is moving out right now,” he snapped. “Come on Mr. Catalano, it’s just what she needs,” she said trying to plead Remi’s case. He shook his head, refusing to budge. “Will you at least think about it, for in the future perhaps?” she asked, laying the sweetness on super thick. He looked at Remi and sighed. “Maybe—but not anytime soon.”
“I don’t know about you two going alone today, three of the men are still fugitives,” Beth stated, her voice filled with worry. Remi understood the concern, but living in constant fear would only make things worse. She had to accept reality. Those men were still out there but couldn’t let that dictate her life. “Everyone keeps stressing how my life is supposed to go on and move past the ordeal. How can I do that if everyone keeps harping on it?”
“Honey, we just don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“I know that, but I need to face this head on—by myself.”
Beth and Tony looked at each other then grudgingly agreed to let her go with Melanie.
Tony demanded she call him when they reached the hospital. She agreed.
“So, what are you going to do about a roommate?” Remi asked. “Good question,” she replied. “I guess beg my parents for more money until you move in.”
Remi just giggled. “After my doctor’s appointment, I was planning on visiting Steve, do you mind taking me?” she asked. Melanie didn’t mind at all.
On the way there, Remi mentioned the text regarding the laundry room guy.
Melanie boasted, “Oh my God, he’s gorgeous, but slightly egocentric.”
“Well if I know you, it won’t take long before you’ve snagged him.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence but I think this guy is gonna be tough.”
When they arrived, there were two local news vans parked out by the entrance. Remi panicked, but her anxiousness was short lived when it became apparent they weren’t there for her. They overheard a couple nearby, talking about a police shootout a few blocks away. Remi wondered if it was with the fugitives. That was quickly dispelled when a hospital volunteer informed them that it involved a group of teenagers.
Remi anxiously sat on the examining table while Dr. Richards removed half of the staples. “Looks good,” he said proudly. Handing her a mirror, he explained the scar would eventually be hidden by her hair, when it grew back in, of course. She gently touched the shaved area and what remained of the staples. “Those need a couple more days,” he said.
“How are you doing overall—headaches, dizziness, vision problems?”
She slipped on a baseball hat and replied, “A slight headache last night but it wasn’t bad.” She then smiled, which was a far cry from the injured girl that had been admitted just a few days earlier. He was pleased with her progress.
“What about driving?” she asked for good measure because she truly didn’t care if she could or couldn’t.
He looked at her chart. “Even though you feel fine and there hasn’t been any residual effects, I still suggest waiting a few more days, just to be safe.”
After scheduling her next follow-up, she walked out into the hall to where Scott was waiting for her. He asked if she had time to grab a cup of coffee. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m going to visit the security guard from the bank. He’s over at the Center City Burn Facility.”
“Oh okay, maybe some other time,” he said, sounding dejected. Melanie walked up to the two of them, smirking. Remi introduced them but was feeling awful for rejecting his offer. “Maybe we can do lunch soon, I’ll call you,” she said. He flashed a huge smile as he walked away.
On the trip over to the facility, Melanie couldn’t refrain from remarking how smitten Scott was. “He’s nice,” was all Remi could muster, her mind clearly on other things.
Luckily, even with mid-day traffic the ride didn’t take long.
Melanie waited in the lobby as Remi went up to Steve’s room. She encountered his wife, Judy in the hallway. They talked briefly, with Judy mostly explaining about the extent of Steve’s burns and though not technically in danger anymore, he had a long road ahead of him. Remi’s heart sank deep into her chest.
He was extremely susceptible to infections, so precautions had to be taken. Outside of his room, Remi donned a disposable paper gown then slipped on latex gloves. She then lingered by the door, mentally preparing for what he may look like. As prepared as she thought she was, the mere sight of him literally took her breath away. His body was bloated by at least three times his weight. His eyelids were closed, but Judy whispered in his ear that he had a special visitor. He opened them slightly and quietly spoke, “I’m glad you’re alive.”
“You too,” she whispered back, fighting the urge to burst into tears. “Come closer,” he murmured. “I won’t bite.”
She smiled at his ability to still be so sweet, even in his horrific condition. He attempted to smile, but his taut, scorched skin made it difficult for him. She took a few steps towards the bed. There was an awkward silence for a minute but then he asked, “How did you get out?”
She hesitated to answer. Judy sensed Remi’s uneasiness to talk with her there, so she excused herself leaving them alone.
Remi let out a deep sigh. “I don’t know.”
“You got lucky.”
“I guess,” she said sounding unsure.
“Awww—don’t be sad. It just wasn’t your time to go,” he said.
“You are the one suffering, and yet you’re trying to cheer me up that’s so wrong.”
“Remi, you’re suffering as well.”
“Yeah but nothing like you.”
He chuckled as best he could. “I’ll be honest. You were locked inside of the vault for so long, I truly didn’t think you were going to get out alive.”
“Wait—WHAT!” she exclaimed. “I was in the vault?”
“Yeah, you don’t remember?” he questioned, his voice strained.
“No, I don’t remember anything,” she cried.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know that.”
“Don’t be sorry, can you please tell me what happened?” she questioned, inching closer to the bed.
“After the gunmen attacked me…” he began explaining but stopped to catch his breath. Remi’s heart started rapidly beating as she waited for him to continue.
“They dragged me into the loan office. I was injured, but I could hear everything that was going on in the lobby. At one point, two of the gunmen went to the vault, taking you with them. Then a little while later, I overheard them talking about how one of the men was locked inside the vault with you.”
Hearing all of that was shocking and unexpected.
“I can’t believe it, how can I not remember that?” she asked rhetorically. “I was locked inside of the vault with one of the gunman, and somehow I escaped and survived,” she declared, completely dumbfounded.
He wished he knew how she made it out, but honestly had no clue.
“I’m very happy that you came to see me and hope that one day you and I can get past this.”
Lightly touching his left bandaged hand, she whispered, “I hope you’re right.”
“I heard three of them escaped.”
She nodded.
“I’m sure they won’t come hunting for us, we never saw any of their faces,” he said, trying to sound hopeful. “Or at least even if you did see the man’s face while inside the vault, you don’t remember it anyway.”
