| Subject: Chapter 16 |
Author:
Kate
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Date Posted: 16:04:02 03/30/01 Fri
In reply to:
by Kate
's message, "Things My Mother Taught Me" on 19:49:51 03/29/01 Thu
***********************
One who is long absent is forgotten.
Sam sat down on the bed and put his head in his hands, staring at the box of medical records.
Samuelle. Samuelle. It couldn't be the same. And even if it was the same, so what? Just because they'd never been able to locate any of the Samuelles didn't mean that there weren't any. Sam flipped open the top file. Nikita Samuelle. He shut his eyes, trying to remember, but the name didn't sound familiar. It didn't sound unfamiliar, either. Maybe he knew her by a different name? Because there was something familiar about it, not just her name, something a little more nebulous.
Sam began to read the medical files, part of his mind on Nikita's condition, part of his mind on why she seemed familiar when she shouldn't. He'd never met her before. Had he?
An hour passed. Two. Three. Sam read everything, even down to the illegible signature on some of the hospital release forms. Sam's eyes began to get scratchy and he was no nearer to finding answers to either of his questions than he had been at the beginning. He stood up, stretched, and felt something pinch him in his breast pocket.
Sam pulled out his passport, frowning at his name and his picture. Then he picked up the phone and dialed a number by heart.
His brother answered. "Hullo?"
Relief washed over Sam and he began to relax. "Hullo guv, it's me."
"You old sod! Where are you?"
"Italy."
"Visiting, or have you given up on Cairo? Tell me you're not coming home. The apartment's a wreck and Sara will kill me. "
Momentarily sidetracked, Sam said, "You didn't break anything, did you?"
Silence.
"As long as it's not her gran's china. She'll divorce me and kill you," Sam said.
"Not the china. Been using the plastic plates, like you suggested. But I had a little ... mishap ... with the coffee table."
"Oh, that," Sam shrugged. "She's always hated that. It's from our college apartment, remember?"
"Yeah, right, I thought it looked familiar. I'll replace it."
"Don't worry about it, it's not important," Sam said. "I need you to do a favor for me."
"Sure."
"In the top of the hall closet on the left, there's a cardboard box. It's got a blue top."
"All right, hang on --"
Sam heard his brother opening the closet door and grunting as he lifted boxes down. A few minutes later, he said, "Got it. What am I looking for?"
Sam described what he needed and set up his microcomputer to receive. In a few minutes, his brother had the information downloaded. "It should go through, but it may take a while."
"How long?" Sam asked, impatiently watching his screen.
"Hey, your guess is as good as mine. If you updated your scanner like I told you to --"
"Oh, knock it off," Sam said irritably.
"A bit touchy, are we? What's going on?"
"Nothing," Sam snapped, as the picture began to crystallize. He felt his heart skip a beat and he turned up the resolution. "Does the back of this picture have anything written on it?"
His brother read what was on the back of the picture, and Sam felt his whole body tighten.
Impossible.
After a series of forgettable comments, he finally hung up the phone. His eyes were riveted on his computer screen, and as the shock slowly wore off, he began to get angry.
Someone knocked on the door. "Sammy? It's me."
Milla. Sam reached out, flicked off the computer and answered the door. "Come on in."
"My mother's awake and sober. Did you want to see her?"
Yes? No? Maybe? Sam gripped his microcomputer, swallowed and tried to look nonchalant. "Sure."
****************
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