The Deal

Eight-Bernadette

"Hello, Bernadette," Naomi says.

"Naomi." My shoulders sink a little. After scrolling through the eight text messages she sent me, the calm tone of her voice irks me. My body shivers from the cool breeze of the night air. "I'm so sorry. I was hanging out with my friend Yvonne. You needed me for something?"

"Actually, I was waiting for you to come online so we could record an episode for Exposing Lies with Naomi but you were a no-show. What happened?"

My head goes blank. "Wait, I thought you said you postponed it. My husband told me you informed him yourself."

"That never happened. I never sent a text or tried to call him."

I halt my steps. "Are you sure? How strange." I scoff. "I could have sworn he—"

"Look, Bernie, it's alright. Chill. With the accident and everything, I wouldn't accuse you of standing me up. It's not the first time you've missed a chance to come on my show anyway. I've been chasing you for years now."

"Really? Well, again, I'm so sorry for trying to gaslight you or something. Either I misheard Thabo or maybe he mistook you for someone else. Perhaps we can reschedule the episode for probably next week?

Naomi sighs. "Uh, yeah. I'll see if I can make time for you. Let me check my schedule..." The sound of shuffling papers fills my ear. What's Naomi doing on the other line? "Oh, uh, sorry I forgot to tell you I'm going to put the channel on a hiatus for a while. That's another reason I called."

"Oh okay," I reply. But before I can ask, she blurts out, "I'm sorry, something came up over here too. I have to go see my mother in Cape Town. Both of my grandparents suddenly passed away, and...." A slight pause goes by. "Things had to change, unfortunately."

"I'm sorry for your loss," I say, heading towards the bridge. "I hope everything goes well for you soon. I'd be happy to come on your show anytime you want me to. You can just give me a call."

"Of course, It's been my mission to have you as a guest on Exposing Lies with Naomi. Will definitely keep in touch. How has your recovery been? I heard you're back to shooting the new season."

A slight grin sprawls on my face, but then I remember the conversation with Yvonne. "Yes. Well, I had to do it for my friend, and I love the show. I wouldn't let some effing amnesia stop me coming on set."

"Wow. You are such a boss. Well, I've gotta go. Good luck. See you later."

"Goodbye. I wish you well," I reply, but now a certain ache tightens around my chest. I'm standing on the empty bridge; the same empty bridge which is a part of my collection of shattered memories. I told a little lie to Naomi. The real reason I went back to shooting was because of how much the show meant to my best friend, the second reason being I had no choice but to do it. I know very little about Bad Habits. I may have been watching the previous seasons with my husband, but deep down, I'm only doing it because I feel like I'm obligated to.

Life after the crash has been like walking in an empty void. Living in this town feels like being trapped inside a well. When I lay in bed next to my husband, I feel like trapped in a steel cage. The people I talk to look like holograms in a matrix because I have no idea who or what they are. It may sound cliché, but I have no idea who I really am. Almost everything I remember is a huge blur. I only hear the voices of people I've met, but my mind can't make out the faces.

But as I stare down the dark, somber river beneath the bridge, the only face that comes to mind is the woman in the black hat. In some other life which feels light years away, I believe we met. When I heard her voice, it triggered something. Let's make a deal... I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to dig in deep. The voices sounded similar. I'm sure they did. Her face was so familiar. The fragrance of her perfume was a mixture of grape and dark chocolate. Her hands. I may not have seen them, but in my memory, the hand that gripped me bore red, glossy, polished nails. I need to find her again.