Julie nodded. “Okay.”
The first thing Samantha planned to do was groom the dogs. But when she opened the door and called to them, they refused to budge from Julie’s side.
“Sunday, Lady, come on!” she called. “I want to brush your fur.”
The dogs whimpered, and Lady moved a little closer to Julie.
“I think they want to stay with me,” she said.
“I think you’re right,” Samantha said in wonder.
She left the child and the dogs, shaking her head. She’d had those dogs for five years, and never before had they refused to come to her.
Leaving the dogs to be groomed later, she went to her office to catch up on some files she’d been meaning to organize. When lunchtime came around, Julie returned to the house with a bouquet of wildflowers.
“Aren’t those pretty?” Samantha said.
“For you,” Julie said, handing them to her.
As she came into the office, she noticed a human skeleton hanging in one corner.
“Oh, look at him!”
“He isn’t real,” Samantha admitted. “I couldn’t afford a real human skeleton. But he’s an exact life-size replica. Isn’t he something?”
Instantly the names of the bones came into Samantha’s mind: mandible, maxilla.
“That’s his mandible, and that’s his maxilla,” Julie said. She pointed to the lower arm. “This is the ulna and the radius and the . . .”
“How do you know all this?” Samantha asked with surprise. It was almost as if Julie had read her mind.
Julie turned to look at her. “How come I remember things like bones, but I don’t remember where I came from?”
“Sometimes memory loss is like that,” Samantha said. “But obviously someone went to the trouble of teaching you. I have an anatomy coloring book that a young patient gave me. Do you want to use it?”
“Sure!”
Samantha took down the coloring book. She set Julie up at her desk with colored pencils and soon the child was busy at work.
Strange how she’d come to be with a kid who had an interest in anatomy when she herself was a doctor. Was it just coincidence? she wondered.
Samantha knew the right thing to do. She had to call the police. Surely what had happened in the motel was just a moment of anxiety, perhaps brought on by whatever had made her lose her memory.
“Have fun,” she said, patting Julie’s shoulder. Then she left the room and headed for the kitchen telephone. This time, she wouldn’t be stopped. This time, she’d dial the number, and she’d talk to Ari. No anxiety attacks, no backing down.
She settled onto one of the three-legged stools lined up along her kitchen counter, then reached up for the phone. There was a sticker on the receiver, with the numbers of the police and fire departments printed in bold black letters. Just seven numbers. Easy enough to dial.
She couldn’t do it. She got as far as putting her finger on the first button, but as soon as she pressed it down, a pain began to grow within her stomach. It started as a slightly cold feeling, then grew until it became so unbearable she started to tremble all over. She watched the receiver, waiting for it to become monstrous. For a moment she was completely mesmerized by the black plastic. But she caught hold of herself and threw the hateful thing the way someone might brush off a hideous spider. It bounced once against the red counter and swung back and forth like a hanged man.
I can’t do this. I can’t! I’m too afraid!
She grabbed for the edge of the counter, gripping it to steady herself. Beneath her, her trembling body was actually making the stool quake. She shut her eyes, trying desperately to get control of herself.
She could feel the room spinning. It was like being on a very scary ride in an amusement park, feeling yourself being thrown around instead of seeing the ride in motion, because you are too afraid to open your eyes. There was no controlling it. Samantha could only hold fast to the counter and pray the feeling would soon pass. She felt tears streaming down her tightly shut eyes as her body continued to tremble.
She thought she was going to die.
“Look what I did!”
With the sound of that sweet young voice, Samantha’s ordeal came to an end. Everything was still once more. Continuing to hold fast to the counter, afraid to let go, she opened her eyes and breathed in deeply. There was no time to wonder about the anxiety attack, because Julie was crossing the kitchen to her. Quickly she dried her eyes.
“I colored this picture,” Julie said. “I picked it out because some blood is red and some is blue and I like those colors.”
Slowly, barely hearing what the child was saying, Samantha took the anatomy coloring book and looked at the picture the child had colored. She braved a smile, not wanting Julie to know something was wrong. There was still an ice cube in the pit of her stomach. She could see the phone receiver from the corner of her eye, but she didn’t reach to hang it up.