in a locked room

"We, really don't have a lot to go on." The doctor's words made Joey all the more numb. "I mean, you're in good health. Even if you're mother said... you were small for your age, and you got stitches under your chin on the first day of school."

It sounded as if that happened to someone else, not him. He'd have to look at his chin, to see.

"So, do you feel safe, Joey? That's the real question."

Joey slightly nodded as he sat on the hospital bed in the mess of sheets.

"I'm not sure I'm sleeping." He didn't feel like himself. He didn't feel anything, actually. His finger touched his face. He guessed he knew what he was doing. "Why are you doing this, to me?"

"You, don't know?" The doctor's question stung him.

Joey looked at him with a wince. He was beginning to wonder who was actually crazy here.

"Do you want to talk about anything, that you..thought you forgot." Another question that Joey didn't get the jest of.

"What? What are you talking about?" Joey's frown was bitter.

"Maybe, if we get to the root of the problem, we can figure out what to do next." The doctor told him he needed to talk about the past.

Joey took a deep breath, as if he might be getting ready to jump into the deep end of the ocean. As if it would swallow him whole and he would remember nothing. He wanted to remember nothing. What was wrong about thinking of nothing?

But a lump lodged in his throat. He couldn't say a word.

He knew how much her brothers hated him, back home. He'd let them all have a swing at him. They'd even broken a couple of ribs.

But he knew he deserved it.

Still, he could hardly hear himself think. Did he have too?

He wanted to remember Sophia's dark intense eyes. He wanted to think of her at her sewing table zipping up a new project. She liked to make pockets. She'd made him a vest full of pockets.

She said once, they could have their own shop. He could make roses out of metal and she'd design clothes and handbags.

Yes, they were both artists. He probably was an unlikely bohemian. But he was good in metal shop. And he'd made mailboxes and even furniture. Perhaps a little too industrious style. Still, he liked working with metal.

But..it didn't matter. He hadn't thought of metal since Sophie died in childbirth.

He didn't want to think about that. He wouldn't talk about it. He would never talk about Sophie and the baby.

He looked over to see Chelsea looking at him. She was smiling. Finally, she showed up.

"Is she here?" The doctor asked.

"Who?" Joey tried his best to be serious.

"She's here, isn't she?" The doctor asked.

"What if she is?" Joey swelled a friend.

The doctor nodded as if he'd take care of that, but he didn't at the moment. He went to talk to the nurse.