Dr. Hester says, “Your name is Gregory Hughes.”
Dr. Hester says, “You are thirty-six years old.”
His thumb covers the first four numbers, leaving only 52082 visible.
Dr. Hester says, “You were born May 20, 1982.”
Dr. Hester says, “It’s not October 2, 1954.”
Dr. Hester says, “It’s October 2, 2018.”
His thumb covers the last five numbers. Only 42215 remained.
Dr. Hester says, “On April 22, 2015, there was an event that led to you developing encephalitis. You fell into a coma. Mr. Hughes, you have been unconscious for three years, five months and ten days. When we found you, you’d already been in a coma for one hundred and thirty-nine days. Which is why I needed you for Project Amorea. Now you’re awake. And there is so much we can learn from you.”
Everything whites out.
XXI
HE’S NOT sure how much time passes before he’s aware again. He remembers being lost in a fog. He’s not sure if he walked through it or crawled through it, but he remembers crying out for Happy. And Calvin. Walter. Donald. Mrs. Richardson.
And Sean, of course. Always Sean.
The problem, when he comes to, is now there are two of him.
It’s not as if he has a double. There’s not another Mike Frazier sitting next to him that he can see and touch, but there is a Gregory Hughes, or Greg, as he likes to be called. He’s not real, he’s not visible, but he is there, and he’s splitting Mike’s mind right down the middle.
When he opens his eyes he thinks, My name is Mike Frazier. I am from—
And at the same time, thinks:
My name is Greg Hughes. I am from—
He stops.
It’s twisted. In his head.
He knows it’s wrong. He knows someone did this to him.
But at the same time, Greg fits him like a glove, sliding over him, overlaying everything that he thought he knew.
It’s not complete, of course
it’s not. There are large gaps that seem to span years.
He’s Greg when he thinks, My mother was named Lauren. My father was Allen. Everyone called him Al. He beat my mother for years. They died in a car accident. It was very sad.
He’s Mike when he thinks, I live in Amorea. I live in a house at 133 Sunlight Way. I have a cat named Martin and my fella is named Sean.
He’s Greg when he thinks, I grew up in Roseland, Oregon, a little crap burg in the middle of nowhere. A big flood happened there in 2013 and destroyed part of the town. We were poor. My father was angry all the time. And I grew up angry because of it, but I was able to hold it back. Mostly.
He’s Mike when he thinks, I grew up in… I don’t know. Somewhere.
There’s a little crack in him then, down this great divide.
He’s Greg when he thinks, I work for Liberty Investment Group in Washington, DC. I have a nice job. I have a nice car, though I don’t use it very much because I can take the Metro every day. I have a very full life.
He’s Mike when he thinks, I own a bookstore called Bookworm. It’s very popular. People come in every day. There is a book club on Mondays where we sit around and discuss literature. It’s very fulfilling. I have a very full life.