Felicite Found (2 page)

“Sorry, man, what do you need from me then?”

“I don’t want to wake up my mom. You know how she gets. Can you bring me a change of clothes? I’m freezing to death here from being soaking wet.”

“A change of clothes? What happened? Did you get hit by a clothes robbing maniac who dunked you into the Seine?”

Pierre shook his head as Luc’s laughter roared through the receiver. He realized he should have explained what happened before asking for the clothes. He gave the details as fast as he could spit them out from his lips.

“Wow. Serious? That’s crazy, man.” Rustling noises sounded through the receiver. Luc must have been digging through his messy bedroom for something for Pierre to wear.

Please bring something clean, Luc
.

“I’m ready. Which hospital are you at?”

Pierre gave him directions, hung up, and then walked to the empty waiting area outside the examination room. He took a seat and tapped his fingers on the seat next to him, eager to find out what was wrong with the nameless girl.

The girl whom just an hour before had
literally fallen into his life.

Anxiety

The clock ticked beat after arduous beat on the wall. The more Pierre stared at it, the more it made him aware of the time he had spent away from the girl. It startled him that he could feel this way about someone he had known only for an hour or so, but this girl seemed so innocent and scared. He stood and paced back and forth.

A nurse approached and ushered him into an examination room. After checking him over and letting him change into some blue scrubs, she told him that he was all right and gave him a couple of warmed blankets in which he draped over his shoulders. Tingles of heat crawled over his body until the cold faded a bit.  

He slid into a waiting room chair, his knee bouncing up and down. The door to the examination room finally opened. When Pierre glanced up, his eyes set on Doctor DePaul approaching him. Pierre’s stomach twisted into knots as he waited for the doctor to tell him what was going on with the girl.

“Pierre, have you contacted a parent or guardian?” the doctor asked as he kneaded the dark circles under his eyes.

“My mom isn’t available right now and, uh . . . my dad’s dead.”

“Oh, I’m sorry about that.” His voice filled with sincerity. “Have you called someone else to come for you then?”

“I called my best friend. He’s on his way now.” Perspiration started forming on his brow. What was going to happen? Was he going to get in trouble?

“I’d much rather you have an adult come.”

“My friend is all I’ve got right now.” He decided to dodge the subject. “How’s the girl?”

“Sorry, I can’t talk to you about her condition.”

“Please, I just risked my life to save her. I deserve to know what’s happening.” He glared straight in the doctor’s eyes, willing the man to talk.

The doctor rubbed his chin and knit his eyebrows together. “The preliminary check-up is normal,” he began. “But her bruising and apprehensive manner leads me to think that she’s been abused.”

Pierre gasped, even though he had gathered that much from his own observations of her. He balled his hands into a tight fist; his fingernails digging into his palms. “Will she be okay?”

“I hope so.”

“How about her memory? She couldn’t remember her name. And her ribs, I think I broke one while doing CPR.” Pierre shuffled his feet back and forth, as his head became heavy with thoughts about the girl.

“An MRI will be performed due to her memory loss. I’m pretty sure she has a broken rib. I’ve ordered an X-ray, too, to double check,” Doctor DePaul said. “You said you’re seventeen, right?”

“Yeah.” Pierre grimaced at the thought of having hurt the girl.

“I’m surprised that you know how to do CPR. Not many people your age do. It’s impressive.”

“I really want to be a police lieutenant. I took some classes on first aid to be ready. I’ve never actually
done
CPR on a real person. I’m really sorry.” He bowed his head, chiding himself for the bang up job he had done.

“Breaking ribs sometimes happens, especially on a small person like her. The important thing is she’s alive. But, I think her ribs were already weak to begin with. The bruising around her ribs looks as though she has been kicked repeatedly.”

“Are you serious?” A stabbing pain like a knife being thrust into his chest shot through his heart.

“Like I said, her body seems to have gone through a lot of abuse, maybe for an extended period of time.”

Pierre swallowed the lump forming in his throat. “That’s horrible.” Tears stung his eyes, so he looked away. He coughed the emotion away until it faded into a hallow numbness around his heart.

Why am I getting so emotional?
He shook his head.
I hardly even know her.

“I hate these situations, too.” The doctor raised his arm and glanced at his watch, tapping it with a finger. “Please, excuse me. I need to check on another patient. I’ll return shortly.” He turned on his heal and paced away down the hallway.

Pierre sat with his hands covering his face until his fingers rubbed hard at his temples. A tension headache had formed, making his forehead throb with pounding pressure.

He hoped the girl would recover from whatever had happened to her. Jumping to all sorts of conclusions, he had envisioned himself beating the snot out of whoever had done this to her. He cleared his mind by thinking about her eyes. That settled his livid emotions straight away, only provoking other, unfamiliar feelings. Heat filled his chest until it spread throughout his limbs. This warm sensation made him feel as if he had known her for . . . forever.

Ten minutes later, Doctor DePaul returned, knocking on the examination room door and then he went in. A moment later, the two white-clad medical professionals and the girl filed out of the room into the hallway. The girl scanned the waiting room until her imploring eyes rested on Pierre. He thought he caught a glimpse of a slight smile tug at her thin lips. He almost got up, but with a wave of the doctor’s hand, the physician motioned for Pierre to sit down.

Uncontrollable thoughts flooded Pierre’s mind like water escaping from a fatally cracked dam.
Who is this girl? What terrible things has she been through? All I know is she’s been through a lot. Quite possibly more than she may want to remember.

Confusion

“I feel odd,” the nameless girl said as dizziness rushed throughout her head. “A better word for it would be relaxed—
really
relaxed.”

“The pill you took has that effect, so you’ll be more comfortable during the MRI.” The nurse patted the girl on the leg.

“Sorry I had a difficult time swallowing it,” the girl said, her voice slurred as though she was drunk.

“It’s all right,” the nurse said with a laugh. “Since the medicine is working a little quicker than normal let’s start the MRI. Come lay down, Mademoiselle.” She pointed to the hard and uncomfortable-looking metal platform. The girl shivered as she shimmied onto the cold bed.

“Put these into your ears.” The nurse opened a small package and tapped out two orange, squishy objects onto the girl’s shaky hand. “The machine can get loud.”

“Pardon me?” she said, raising an eyebrow.

“Like this.” The nurse grabbed one of the packets, opened it, and demonstrated how to put the little things in. “It can get really loud in there, but you’ll be fine.”

The girl jammed the plugs snuggly into her ears. After that, the nurse clasped a strange white mechanism that looked like a mask over the girl’s head. Her heart sped up until it felt as if it would explode out of her chest. Heat swelled throughout her body until she felt sticky with sweat.

Regardless of the enveloping relaxed feeling, she felt trapped like a chained animal on the bed. As the platform started moving into a cavernous shell, she gasped, thinking it was going to consume her for dinner. Her breath started to escape from her mouth in halted gasps. She attempted to twist her head around to find the nurse who had disappeared with no luck. The girl tilted her head up and saw the nurse and some man through a window opposite her.

“Please, let me out of here. I’m scared!” the girl yelled as she clawed at the thing holding her head in place; it didn’t budge at all.

“Relax, Mademoiselle.” The nurse’s calming voice spilled out of the machine even though she wasn’t in the same room. The girl craned her neck around, trying to find out where the voice was coming from.

“If you take long deep breaths, it should calm you down. Stay very still and it will be over before you know it.”

She found herself inside a narrow cavity of the frightening machine. Trying her best, she breathed in and out to compose herself. Moments later, she heard booming sounds bombarding her. Her lip quivered for fear of something firing at her from all directions.

“Get me out of here!” she screamed as every muscle in her body tensed tight. “Something is shooting at me. I am going to die.” She clawed at thing clasped over her head, but it restricted any movement.

“Mademoiselle, you’re just fine.” Once again, the nurse’s soothing voice filtered through the machine. “I assure you that nothing is going to hurt you. Please, close your eyes. Perhaps, think of something that makes you happy. Uh—”

“I do not remember anything,” the girl cried, sucking in deep breathes of air. Her arms locked across her chest in hopes this action would protect her somehow. “What can I think of that will get me through this?”

“Maybe you can think of that nice, handsome young man who rescued you. How does that sound?”

The girl’s knotted stomach loosened. Her thumping heart slowed as she thought of Pierre. “I think that will work.”

The awful shooting sounds started again. It sent shivers through her body still, yet, oddly not as severe. Her mind wandered to Pierre’s face—the sharp features with the strong jaw. His dark hair made her blond hair appear transparent. His tall stature was comforting; she found it appealing, desirable. He reminded her of someone—from her past, perhaps. However, Pierre seemed more gentle and loving and tender. Her mind fluttered through a never-ending void of darkness to remember the man from her past, yet couldn’t grasp hold of any memory.

Pressure surged in on her head, so she brought her thoughts back to Pierre. She wished he were
holding her hand through this awful experience. The X-ray wasn’t bad, but this was so foreign to her. Her mind couldn’t comprehend how this procedure could give the doctor any conclusions about her condition.

I wonder just how much I have forgotten.
They say I hit my head, but how could that have wiped my mind so clear, so empty of anything but . . .

Her thoughts were cut short when she pictured the handsome boy who had saved her from drowning.

He saved me. He cared enough to save me. Someone cares about me, a girl who has no claim on her own memories. A girl who tried to kill herself. But over what? What happened to me? And who am I?

The slow, fluid movement of the platform interrupted her musings. She hadn’t even noticed what was taking place during the procedure.

The nurse helped her up. “Good job. I’ve never seen anyone so still. Whatever you were thinking about must have been nice.” The nurse grinned and patted her arm.

The girl only smiled in response. She wanted to see Pierre again. The ache in her chest swelled . . . for need of him. It was as if she
had known him her whole life.

Prognosis

Pierre’s head perked up at the sliding sound of the elevator doors opening. The nurse and the girl shuffled out toward the examination room. The nameless girl pierced Pierre with pleading eyes, begging him to come with her, but he didn’t want to get in the way. He smiled and nodded to reassure her as she disappeared back into the room. He bent over to rest his head on his palms and pictured her face. Her blue eyes showed a deep history of pain from the darkened circles framing them. He wanted to remove the sorrow from them—but how?

He couldn’t stop thinking about her—especially her eyes, but also her drying curls of blond hair. They were like a swift waterfall swirling down from her face to her back. He thought of her pale, white skin and how she stood with precise posture, elongating her petite, slender stature. All this made him feel as though fireworks were exploding in his empty and growling stomach.

Interrupting his time
-
exhausting musings, the familiar black and white held-together-by-tape shoes Luc always wore moved into his vision. Pierre angled his head up to see his friend. “Hey, Luc. What’s up?”

Luc Broussard, a tall but slender blond-haired teenager, replied in a sing-song tone, “Hey, I should be the one asking you that. You just decide to take a swim in the Seine, huh?” He laughed as he lightly punched Pierre on the arm, dancing on the balls of his feet like a boxer.

“Funny, Luc.”

“So, what do you think she was doing . . . suicide or something?” Luc said while he plopped down on the chair next to Pierre.

“Don’t know.” Pierre shook his head and took in a deep breath. His nose crinkled from the heavy stench of hospital disinfectant.

The door to the examination room squeaked open and then the girl and nurse went to the elevator. Again.

Where are they going now?
Pierre wondered while scratching his head.

“Who is
that
?” Pierre glanced over at his friend. Luc gawked, eyes roaming up and down the girl’s body. “Is that
her
?”

“Sure is,” Pierre said through clenched teeth, his hands balled into fists.  Luc starred at the elevator door, jaw dropped and all. Silence stung the air between them until the mounting pressure in Pierre’s chest exploded. “She’d never go for you, you know.”

“Oh, she’d go for me. No question.” He chuckled as he kicked his feet up on the seat across from him. “Whoa, even with that bump on her head, she’s still hot. Why are you always the lucky one?”

“Get your
head out of the gutter.”

But what he wanted to say was: “She’s mine. Hands off.”

Instead, he skirted his jealous thoughts. “Hey, is that my change of clothes?” He pointed toward the plastic bag at Luc’s feet, changing the subject. He didn’t want to be in the scrubs any longer. They stretched across his chest, making him feel like the “Incredible Hulk” about to burst out of his shirt—way too small for him.

“Yeah, I almost forgot. You better not get sick. I’m not going to school without you. I hate that.”

“I’ll make sure not to get sick on
your
account,” Pierre joked as he grabbed the plastic bag and his damp clothes and made his way to the restroom.

“By the way, my mom called your mom. She was worried because you’re at the hospital. Uh, I sort of had to tell her.” He slumped into the chair, holding his hands palm up. “Sorry, man.”

“Well, you
did
practically yell out on the phone where I’m at.” Pierre rolled his eyes, trying to be playful.

“And . . . your mom is on her way.”

“Serious?”

“Sorry, man. I had no control over it. Serious.”

Pierre slouched as a lump of guilt formed in his throat. “Don’t worry about it. She would have found out anyway.” He groaned and said under his breath, “Just what she needs
.
” He shuffled toward the bathroom. 

He relieved himself, washed his hands, and then went into one of the stalls to change out of the scrubs. He opened the bag and noticed that Luc, with great lack of propriety, had brought his dingy workout clothes. He sniffed them. “Ugh. Gross.” There was no way in hell he would be wearing them. The tight hospital scrubs would have to do for a while longer. But then he pulled out a bright pink jacket.

“What the . . . Luc’s going to kill me. But I’m not about to be cold outside. I’ll just have to suck it up like a man.” He sighed and then squeezed into the jacket. “Did he have to bring the smallest one possible? I can barely move my arms.” He stuffed Luc’s disgusting clothes back into the bag along with his wet clothes from this morning, and left the bathroom to join Luc, shaking his head.

When Luc saw Pierre, he burst out laughing, patting his knee so hard it would probably leave a nasty bruise.

“Hey Pierre, smile big.” He drew out his cell and snapped picture after picture, chuckling so loud it caught the nurse’s attention down the hall—the same one who had hit on Pierre earlier. “Great picture for the school bulletin board. Even though you look positively to die for in that
pink
jacket, I didn’t bring it for you. My mom made me bring it for the girl just in case she has nothing warm to wear.” Luc scanned him up and down, laughed again, and took another photo.

Pierre lunged at Luc and tried to wrestle the phone from his friend’s tight grasp, but it was a lost cause. Luc dodged him flipping the phone from hand to hand and behind his back. Plus, the tiny jacket almost completely restricted his movement like he was a mad man wearing a straitjacket.

“I give up.” Pierre lumbered away in defeat until he fell into the nearest chair.

“I saw
your
girl again.” Luc whistled in the examination room’s direction. “She came back while you were changing.”

“Really?” He shot up from the chair, pacing back and forth in front of Luc. He swiped his hand through his now dry hair.

Just then the examination room door opened, cutting off their conversation. Pierre tore off the pink jacket and threw it straight at Luc’s face. He sure wasn’t going to be caught with it on in front of anyone else. In return, Luc grunted a little too dramatically as though he had been hit in the head with a boulder the size of a small house.

Pierre introduced Luc to the doctor and then said, “How’s she doing?”

Before the doctor could say a word, Pierre’s mom rushed toward him, her brown hair bouncing up and down from its tousled pony-tail. “You’re all right!” She sighed, patting his arms in a way that suggested she was trying to make sure he didn’t have any broken bones. Her eyes glided over his body, scrutinizing every square inch. “Why didn’t you call me straight away?”

“I’m totally fine. Promise.” He looked at the doctor, knowing his secret was out—he’d lied.

“You could have been killed.” She sniffled, brushing her eyes.

He took her into a hug. His mom’s head fit perfectly under his chin. “I’m sorry.”

“You better be. I don’t even know what could’ve possessed you to jump into the Seine. Why, Pierre? Why?” She stepped away from him, lacing her arms across her chest and biting her quivering lip.

Luc’s mom must not have relayed all that had happened this morning. Pierre shot a glaring you’re-an-idiot look at Luc for most likely getting the entire story wrong. “No, no. I saw some girl jump into the river. I saved her. That’s what happened.”

“Oh, okay.” All her worry faded from her eyes, her shoulders relaxed, and a slight smile spread across her lips. “That was very brave of you, but you better call me next time something like this happens. You know how I worry.” She glanced around the room. “Where is she? How is she?”

The doctor spoke before Pierre could answer. “Madame Rousseaux, is it?”

“Yes, that’s correct.” She offered him the customary kisses on both of his cheeks. “But you can call me Hélène. How is she?”

“She’s shaken up—” Mid-sentence, two police lieutenants booming voices echoed from down the hall. They asked for Doctor DePaul. With a pointed finger, the nurse directed them in our direction.

The lieutenants marched over, heavy boots thudding on the tile. “Are you Doctor DePaul?”

“Yes, Lieutenants, thank you for coming. This is the young man I told you about, Pierre Rousseaux. He risked his life to save the girl I called you about.” He gazed at Pierre with bright eyes and patted him on the shoulder like a proud father.

“That was a nice thing you did for her,” the taller of the two lieutenants remarked in a deep, guttural voice while shaking Pierre’s hand in a tight grip. “I’m Lieutenant LaRoche. This is my partner Lieutenant Lambert. What happened this morning?”

Pierre went over the details of the morning’s events, leaving nothing out. He hoped when he became a police lieutenant people would be as meticulous as this. Pride puffed in his chest. The light as air feeling drained him of tiredness and any worries.

“Well done and thank you. I think that’s all we need from you. Please fill out this form.” Lieutenant LaRoche pulled off a white piece of paper from his clipboard and handed it over. “We’ll contact you if you can help us anymore.”

Pierre accepted the form. “But I want to make sure she’s okay. I just can’t leave, you know?”

“We understand, but you’ve done everything you can. We’ll take it from here,” Lieutenant Lambert—a tall, stocky man answered. He turned his attention to the doctor.

“No, I’m not leaving. I have to see this through.” Heat filled his face and his fingers tingled from his outburst. “I mean, I wouldn’t feel right about leaving. She has no one right now.”

“You can stay, Pierre,” Lieutenant Lambert responded and rubbed his chin.

“Actually,” Doctor DePaul nodded to the examination room, his stethoscope bobbing around his neck, “the girl keeps asking for you, Pierre. Maybe it would be a good idea for you to stay for a while.”

“She keeps asking for you?” Hélène’s hands rested on her hips while she tapped her foot on the ground. “I thought you didn’t know her.”

“I swear I’ve never seen her before.” He palmed his hands up in defense.

Her body relaxed again with her hand holding onto her shoulder bag. “Well, you do have that effect on girls.” She laughed, shaking her head. Pierre grumbled. His face flushed, and his underarms became wet from perspiration.

The doctor gestured down the hallway. “Lieutenants, maybe you should join me in my office?”

“Can I come, too?” Pierre was not about to be left out of anything that had to do with the girl.

“The girl said that she wanted him to know what’s going on.” Doctor DePaul straightened his tie. “I would say that’s verbal authorization for him to come.”

“We’ll have to talk to her really quick to make sure.” Lieutenant LaRouche tugged at his white button-down officer’s shirt, flattening it with his palm. “It’s not that I don’t believe you. I just need to hear it for myself.”

“I understand.” The doctor nodded and gestured to the examination room. Minutes after entering the room, they were back in the hallway where Pierre, Hélène, and Luc waited.

“You and your mother can come,” Lieutenant LaRoche patted Pierre on the shoulder. Luc started to follow. “May I ask how you are related to this case, young man?”

“I’m the best friend of the hero.” He puffed up his chest, putting an arm around Pierre.

“You should stay here or better yet get to school.” The lieutenant glared hard at Luc without blinking; it was as if they were having a staring contest to see who would win.

Luc turned his head and grumbled as if he was being left out of the best adventure ever. “I’ll just play some games on my phone.” He sat back down, putting his feet up on a chair across from him in a defiant manner.

“To school, young man,” Lieutenant Lambert demanded, pointing his finger to the exit and narrowing his eyes on Luc. The kid’s face melted into an expression of defeat.

“Okay, don’t get so pushy,” he said under his breath. “Here’s an extra jacket, Pierre.” Luc removed his coat, revealing that he had another one underneath. Pierre caught it when his friend launched it at him. “Call me later.” He left, muttering to himself.

Pierre and his mother followed the doctor along with the lieutenants. They sat on black, metal chairs facing an oak desk cluttered with papers.

The doctor said as he yawned, “An MRI and X-ray were performed. The MRI came back fine. There’s no damage to her brain, but the X-ray shows a broken rib. It should heal with time. She’ll have to wear the ace bandage I gave her tight around her chest and torso for a few weeks.” Pierre’s stomach knotted into cramps from hearing that news. He had done a bang up job reviving her.

At least she’s alive
.

The doctor continued, “I think that her jumping off the bridge wasn’t her first attempt to commit suicide. The burns on her neck suggest that she attempted to hang herself. Although, I didn’t see the typical blood spots in her eyes that would suggest hanging. However, by the look of the rope burns, I’m surprised she survived. I can’t be absolutely certain these were suicide attempts because of her memory loss, however.”

Hélène grasped Pierre’s arm, her face turning pale. She took a couple deep breaths and then started to look more like herself.