The man with no name, no family, no ties, and no identifiable features lay on the hospital bed, feeling as though he was about to freeze to death. He tried to smile, but he couldn't tell if he had even moved. It was ironic how all he could remember about himself was a flash and searing, burning pain. He had spent the last two hours listening to Dr. Mitchell telling reporters to back off, they couldn't bother him for a few days. Doc Mitchell, as the man with no name thought of him, was a nice man. He seemed completely concerned about "Jack". He assumed that the doctor was talking about him.
He caught the words "Woke three days ago," it was Doc's booming voice. Jack had woke three days ago, those three days were his only tie to the past, other than the Library of Congress and a massive explosion. Those two things were all Jack had to go by. If he had to fill out a resume for a job, all he could say was that he was horribly mutilated by an explosion, no, the explosion.
Jack recalled when he first woke up, he had panicked. He thought he could feel flames licking his body, that he could smell smoke and burning flesh, he swatted at his chest and face, trying to put the invisible flames out. A nurse came in and settled him down, when he awoke from the illusion, all that remained was the smell of burnt flesh. The nurse stroked his forehead, and Jack realized all he could feel was pressure. He didn't feel the smooth, tender hand against his smooth forehead, he felt something pressing against a rough, scaly mass.
Jack tried to ask what was going on, the nurse wrote her name and the alphabet on a clipboard in black letters. Her name was Meagan, it had a strange ring to it. Jack had felt as though his mind were in a fog, but Meagan's slender fingers slid into his hand. "Just squeeze my hand when I pass a letter, try and spell your name please. We need to try and contact family for you," she said, smiling sweetly. Her beautiful red hair slid down her shoulders like a flame. Jack slid into another trance, he could have sworn he smelled smoke for a split second, but then he realized Meagan had already been through the alphabet once. He still didn't know what was going on.
Meagan squeezed his hand to catch his attention, "I'll go slower this time," she smiled again, her smile was the most beautiful thing Jack had ever seen. It was his new favorite memory. As she moved the marker over the bored pointing at letters, Jack realized, he didn't know his own name. All that he new was that he was a man, and he was in a hospital, and that he could feel every single stitch in the bandages that rapped his body like a mummy. The sensation reminded him of a sunburn, but he never even remembered having a sunburn.
Jack waited for her to go back through again, the marker ran over I, squeeze, D, squeeze, he realized something smelled like honey, it was Meagan. O, squeeze, N, squeeze, T, squeeze, K, squeeze, N, squeeze, O, squeeze, W, Jack gave three squeezes.
"You don't know?" Meagan's eyebrows furrowed, Jack noticed she was holding his hand tighter. "Do you know how old you are?" She asked, going over the board again. N, squeeze, O, squeeze. "Can you tell me anything about yourself?" Meagan was so kind, Jack knew that she cared about his well-being. I, squeeze, M, squeeze, A, squeeze, M, squeeze, A, squeeze, N, squeeze.
"Sir, I'll be back in a second. I have to report to Dr. Mitchel, he'll be seeing you soon. Go ahead and take a few deep breaths, you're going to be in for a shock," Meagan's head tilted foreword and she looked him in the eyes. That's when she said, "You have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen," Jack saw tears streak down her kind face, and he couldn't help but feeling like crying himself.
She squeezed his hand one last time, helped him drink a few sips of water, and left the room. Jack felt more lonely in that instant than he'd ever felt in his life. Meagan was the only person in the world that he loved, or for that matter, that he even knew. It must of felt that way in the Garden of Eden. No one else meant anything to him.
Jack tried to think of everything he knew to be a fact. "There are fifty states," he tried to whisper, "The president of the United States is Mark McHail, I'm in a hospital, I only know one person, I think I've been burned," he took a few deep breaths, his mouth felt so dry, "I'm not alone," Mark heard footsteps in front of his room, he heard a mans voice, and Meagan's, but he couldn't tell what they were saying.
As the doctor opened the door, Jack heard his deep voice. It was loud and kind, and it felt fatherly to him. "Hello, Um... well, do you mind if I call you Jack?" The doctor asked, grabbing Jack's hand and shaking it. Jack managed to shake his head no. "Good, I'm Dr. Mitchell, you can call me Earnest if you'd like. I was the doctor who put you back together. I tell ya, there wasn't much to work with when they brought you in, but you had a pulse, so I did what I could, and you're here now. We have a problem Jack, we don't know your real name. We know you're a white male, five foot, six inches tall. Now take a second, take a deep breath," the man placed his hand on Jacks chest. It felt strong and warm. Doc Mitchell was a big guy, he had big, dark brown eyes. He was balding, what little hair he did have was grey.
"The Library of Congress was attacked three days ago. Thirteen people died, you were the only survivor. We didn't find the remains of the bomber, but that's no surprise. The explosive he used blew the entire dome down on top of the room. We found you underneath the rubble, Several of your vertebrae are broken, you have a hairline fracture in your skull, and obviously a bit of brain damage. Your entire epidermis is completely burned, he had to scrape it off. You probably have permanent nerve damage. You are unidentifiable, unless we can recall some of your memories," the man stopped and rubbed his eyes, he looked exhausted.
"I'm sorry, I should have broke it to you slower. Would you like me to contact a clergy, or rabbi or anything? Maybe a therapist?" The doctor pointed to the board again. Apparently he and Meagan had planned out the communication system well. Dr. Mitchell held Jacks hand awkwardly. T, squeeze, H, squeeze, E, squeeze, R, squeeze, Dr, Mitchell cut in here, "Therapist?" He asked. Jack nodded a yes.
"Okay, I'll get on it. You need to get as much rest as possible. I'll have Meagan check in on you every thirty minutes. Her shift ends at five in the morning. Then your nurse will be Natalie, good night Jack, and good luck. God's been with you this far, he'll be with you till the end." Doc Mitchell patted Jack on the head. This bugged Jack, it made him feel like a child, but then again, he may very well be a child.
