“Grant.” He didn’t answer my question. He always gets sidetracked with semantics. I’d hate to be in a conversation with him and Jared. All I want is a number.
“Travis, there is no black and white here, especially with drug-induced amnesia. You combine those drugs with a traumatic head injury; it just compounds the memory loss exponentially. This can last hours, days, even weeks. I’d even venture to say on top of everything else she’s been through, she’s shell-shocked.”
I sure as hell know what that is. This happened a lot overseas, fighting behind enemy lines when I was in the military. When my team and I fought under long-term duress, sometimes I would discover quite a few of our men having memory gaps. It would sometimes take them weeks to get their memories straight again. I’m pulled from my thoughts as I realize Grant has been talking on without me paying attention.
“...anterograde and retrograde amnesia—”
“Grant,” I interrupt, “let’s just keep this in layman’s terms, yeah?”
“Yeah, no problem,” he says, refocusing on the quick and dirty info I need. “She shouldn’t make important decisions. You have to keep her in a calm environment, Travis.” He stares me down as if I’m going to throw her back in the fray of shit she just came out of. “She’s going to have trouble analyzing information for a good while, and you may find her wandering off.”
“Wandering off?”
“Yes, sometimes amnesia patients just decide to wander off and explore for no reason. So you’ll have to keep a close eye on her.” He pauses for a second in thought. “Oh…I almost forgot,” he adds, pointing at me with his finger. “She may have a heck of a time remembering new information. If you want something to sink in, you’re going to have to repeat it...a lot. You may even try using hand signals. If you combine those signals along with words, it should go a long way in her ability to retain new info.”
“Duly noted.” I turn to go get Jules, but Grant grabs me by the shoulder, stopping me.
“Travis, if you leave the majority of her drugs with me I can create different dosages, declining the milligrams in each dose. That way, we can slowly wean her off of them safely. I can mail them to you anywhere you need, but I need to know the ingredients.” He knows I’m hesitating to give him this information. Being caught with this Intel could cost him his life. I don’t want to risk that. “Travis, listen to me,” he pleads. “By knowing what the ingredients are, it will help me decide what she needs, so I can help her system go through a safe withdrawal.”
I sigh and give in to him. “The drugs are in my backpack.” I nod to the room behind me. “Once I get settled, I can email you an encrypted file of everything you’ll need.” I grab Grant by the shoulders, getting his undivided attention. With a morbid seriousness, I let him know, “Once you get that information, you do not print it, you do not save it; read it, then delete it. If you chicken scratch it down, burn the paper afterwards. You’ve never seen it, never heard of it.”
“Son of a bitch...what kind of shit are you into, Travis?” he whispers, horrified. Yeah, I’ve stressed the poor man. This is the most I’ve heard him cuss since I was an incorrigible teenager. “I hope you know what you’re doing here.” I know he’s talking about Jules, and I hope to hell I know what I’m doing too.
I shake my head. “You can’t afford to know a damn thing, Grant. You just make damn sure you do as I say.”
“I swear, if I don’t have a heart attack by the end of today, I won’t ever have one,” he mumbles under his breath.
I chuckle at this uncomplicated man, who likes to live the simple southern life at home when he’s not at work. I nod toward the bag on the floor. “What’s in the bag?”
He bends down, picks the tote up by its handles, and rummages around inside. “I’ve got extra bandages.” He looks up at me. “Do you know how to change a head dressing?” I nod, trying to be patient. I hear the time as it starts ticking away in the back of my head, and I’m getting a little antsy. We’ve been here long enough, and it’s time to blow this joint. I don’t care what else is in the bag at this point; we need to go.
“Grant, I’m gonna need to borrow a set of wheels too.”
Grant continues his search, pilfering through the bag’s contents, unfazed with my question as he speaks into the bag. “Travis, you are the son I never had; you know what’s mine is yours. Ah, here it is.” He pulls out a clear bag full of medicine and holds it up for me to see. “I need to go over these with you.”