Remembering Raimondo (Complete)

Remind Me: Pt 2

I let his eyes pierce into mine, I didn't even consider looking away. He spoke with enough barefaced helplessness, pain almost, to compel me to do nothing but allow him to hold my gaze. The mood switched from lovely to awkward, awkward because strangers shouldn't make a poetic feel out of their first conversation with each other. It wasn't normal. At least not in my book. I returned his token all the same and just stared into his eyes.

“I already told you,” I whispered. “We just see each other from time to time.”

He didn't buy it, but his posture became less tense. He picked up his fork and smiled. “I'm sorry.”

I was taken aback by his sudden change of personality. Just last night he was informing a crazy man he owed money of what to do with me and here he is right now apologizing for nothing. Maybe there was a personality disorder to his problem, it would make sense. If he doesn't have an identity to live by then he'd have a different personality every day. I remember reading somewhere that our personality is a product of personal experiences, what if a person didn't remember any personal experiences? Memory equals existence, and if he doesn't remember experience that would be equivalent to them not existing. Conclusively, a non-existent personality.

Ugh. I'm aiming for a migraine. I slumped back in my chair confused. Now I'm the one helpless and watching him eat!

“What do you feel?” I asked, catching him by surprise.

“Excuse me?” He stopped eating.

“What do you feel?” I repeated.

“I feel hungry,” he answered with a serious expression.

“...about your problem?”

“Nothing. I feel nothing.” He answered emotionless.

Nothing. How could a person feel nothing? I wanted to scream that question in his face but I decided that it was best not to especially since he really had no control of his lack of emotion. Looking at him now, I could confidently say that I preferred him drunk rather than this.

“What do you feel?” He mirrored my question stupidly.

Angry. Confused. Frustrated. Helpless.

“Nothing.” I smiled.

I needed to go through his prescription cabinet. I mean I had to learn more about his problem. Because he clearly has some memory left, I mean he could talk and form sentences. Perhaps his childhood memory is not lost. And if his entire memory isn't lost then that would mean that there may be a chance of being able to fix him.

“Fix him?” I whispered frowning in disgust with my choice of words.

“I'm sorry?” He asked with a confused expression.

Expressions.

“You have facial expressions,” I bluntly state getting somewhere. He had facial expressions. I mean aren't there emotion behind facial expressions?

“Yeah?”

“You have facial expressions... those are products of feeling. You clearly looked confused a moment ago, evidently that means you felt confused. And earlier when Jeff was here you were frowning and that means you were frustrated? Or angry?

“Confused?”

“Yes confused.”

He didn't respond. Avoiding my eyes, he wiped his hands and left.

Just like that.

I didn't know if I should feel embarrassed or mad. But what I did know is that I was determined to figure this man out, even if I had to steal his medical files to do it.

I signaled for the waitress.

“The bill?” I asked.

“Oh, don't worry about that. It's already taken care of.” She waved her hand in a don’t-sweat-it gesture.

Good to know Jeff had class.