waiting for the crew to finish setting up their
equipment and run through signal tests. They would be going on live. Itching
which started beneath the cast on his leg began creeping around John’s flesh,
and he struggled to ignore it. He had to keep the damn thing on for four more
weeks and he was already thinking of cutting it off himself. Just thinking
about the itching made the skin under the cast on his hand start to itch as
well. He couldn’t wait to be done with the interview.
“Okay
then,” the reporter, Melinda Velasquez, said cheerfully, “we’re just about
ready to start.”
Gretchen
nodded eagerly while John hid a grimace.
“I’ll wait
for the signal from the anchorman, then I’ll introduce myself and tell the
viewers where I am. After that, I’ll introduce the two of you, and we’ll get
into the rest of the interview.”
“How long
will the interview last?” John asked. Sweat dampened his skin, thanks to
anxiety and the lights glaring at him.
“About five
minutes,” she said.
That wasn’t
so bad. He could last five minutes. Melinda looked as though she was about to
say something else, but instead raised a finger to her ear piece and quickly
composed herself in front of the camera. “Two minutes,” she mouthed.
Those two
minutes came quickly. Gretchen squeezed John’s hand tightly as Melinda thanked
the anchorman and proceeded to go through the formal introductions. John smiled
when she turned to them, hoping it didn’t look as fake as it felt.
“So, John,
how are you feeling?” Melina asked, insincere concern for his condition
plastered across her face.
“I’m doing
pretty well,” he said. “Most of my smaller injuries are healing without any
problem, leaving mostly just the broken bones that still hurt and give me a
hard time.”
“How many
injuries did you sustain?” Melinda asked.
“Um, I’m
not sure. I think there were too many to count,” John said. Melinda wilted with
pity. She was incredibly overdramatic.
“The doctor
I spoke with, a Dr. Marshall, said you sustained a shattered ankle, a broken
tibia, several broken ribs, your femur was broken in three places, concussion,
multiple contusions and lacerations, as well as suffering from retrograde
amnesia, meaning that you can’t remember anything that happened before your
accident. Does that sound about right?” Melinda asked.
“Yeah, I
think so,” John said flatly.
Melinda’s
mouth tensed at his tone. She turned her attention to Gretchen. “And sitting
next to John is Gretchen Gesner, the woman who found John. Gretchen, could you
please tell us about how you found John.”
“Well, I
was driving home from a teachers’ conference in Albuquerque when I saw
something in the road ahead of me. I thought it was an animal and slammed on my
breaks. I came close to hitting it, but I managed to stop in time. When I got
out, I realized it wasn’t an animal, it was a person. I called 911, and the
paramedics took him to the hospital,” Gretchen said. It all came out in one
long breath, something John was used to, but it took Melinda a moment to react.
“How long
were you in a coma?” she asked John.
“Six days,”
he said.
“And when
you woke up, you had no memory of the attack or anything before it. Is that
correct?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Have you
remembered anything in the week since you woke up?” Melinda asked.
“No. I
still can’t remember anything about my life before being attacked.”
Melinda
frowned sympathetically and turned back to Gretchen. “During the time John was
in a coma you were visiting him each day. Why did you feel the need to continue
visiting him?”
Gretchen’s
cheeks colored faintly and Melinda smiled. “I was worried about him. I knew he
didn’t have anybody else and I didn’t want him to wake up and be alone.”
“And what
inspired you to open your home to this man, a man you barely know,” Melinda
asked pointedly.
Gretchen looked
a little taken aback by the
equipment and run through signal tests. They would be going on live. Itching
which started beneath the cast on his leg began creeping around John’s flesh,
and he struggled to ignore it. He had to keep the damn thing on for four more
weeks and he was already thinking of cutting it off himself. Just thinking
about the itching made the skin under the cast on his hand start to itch as
well. He couldn’t wait to be done with the interview.
“Okay
then,” the reporter, Melinda Velasquez, said cheerfully, “we’re just about
ready to start.”
Gretchen
nodded eagerly while John hid a grimace.
“I’ll wait
for the signal from the anchorman, then I’ll introduce myself and tell the
viewers where I am. After that, I’ll introduce the two of you, and we’ll get
into the rest of the interview.”
“How long
will the interview last?” John asked. Sweat dampened his skin, thanks to
anxiety and the lights glaring at him.
“About five
minutes,” she said.
That wasn’t
so bad. He could last five minutes. Melinda looked as though she was about to
say something else, but instead raised a finger to her ear piece and quickly
composed herself in front of the camera. “Two minutes,” she mouthed.
Those two
minutes came quickly. Gretchen squeezed John’s hand tightly as Melinda thanked
the anchorman and proceeded to go through the formal introductions. John smiled
when she turned to them, hoping it didn’t look as fake as it felt.
“So, John,
how are you feeling?” Melina asked, insincere concern for his condition
plastered across her face.
“I’m doing
pretty well,” he said. “Most of my smaller injuries are healing without any
problem, leaving mostly just the broken bones that still hurt and give me a
hard time.”
“How many
injuries did you sustain?” Melinda asked.
“Um, I’m
not sure. I think there were too many to count,” John said. Melinda wilted with
pity. She was incredibly overdramatic.
“The doctor
I spoke with, a Dr. Marshall, said you sustained a shattered ankle, a broken
tibia, several broken ribs, your femur was broken in three places, concussion,
multiple contusions and lacerations, as well as suffering from retrograde
amnesia, meaning that you can’t remember anything that happened before your
accident. Does that sound about right?” Melinda asked.
“Yeah, I
think so,” John said flatly.
Melinda’s
mouth tensed at his tone. She turned her attention to Gretchen. “And sitting
next to John is Gretchen Gesner, the woman who found John. Gretchen, could you
please tell us about how you found John.”
“Well, I
was driving home from a teachers’ conference in Albuquerque when I saw
something in the road ahead of me. I thought it was an animal and slammed on my
breaks. I came close to hitting it, but I managed to stop in time. When I got
out, I realized it wasn’t an animal, it was a person. I called 911, and the
paramedics took him to the hospital,” Gretchen said. It all came out in one
long breath, something John was used to, but it took Melinda a moment to react.
“How long
were you in a coma?” she asked John.
“Six days,”
he said.
“And when
you woke up, you had no memory of the attack or anything before it. Is that
correct?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Have you
remembered anything in the week since you woke up?” Melinda asked.
“No. I
still can’t remember anything about my life before being attacked.”
Melinda
frowned sympathetically and turned back to Gretchen. “During the time John was
in a coma you were visiting him each day. Why did you feel the need to continue
visiting him?”
Gretchen’s
cheeks colored faintly and Melinda smiled. “I was worried about him. I knew he
didn’t have anybody else and I didn’t want him to wake up and be alone.”
“And what
inspired you to open your home to this man, a man you barely know,” Melinda
asked pointedly.
Gretchen looked
a little taken aback by the
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