Strangers

Sally stared vacantly out the window, her hands lay limply in her lap. A woman tapped her on her shoulder, a paper bag held out in front of her.

“Ma’am. Your order?” she said hesitantly. Sally smiled widely and said thank you, chuckling a little. She had drifted off into dreamland again. She apologized, though not quite sure about what. She started gathering her things to leave, and as she turned, locked eyes with a stranger.

The man was sitting in a dark green coat, his forehead had tiny beads of sweat. He was staring at her. He had the courtesy to look away when she met his eyes, though. Sally shook her head a little, wrapped everything in her arms and walked out the door, a little bell tinkled above her. She heard the tinkle again as she rounded the corner making her way to her apartment two streets away.

Sally had a lot of quiet lunches and dinners with occasional interruptions from the neighbour’s too loud TVs. To break up her monotonous daily routine, on Friday’s she allowed herself a drink at the local pub. She thoroughly enjoyed getting intoxicated enough to keep her feet grounded and her body moving. She had probably danced with all the regulars by now.

When the sun seeped through her window in golden ribbons, she readied herself for her outing. Sally stood staring at herself in the steamed mirror, her face peering at her like a stranger seeing her for the first time. She combed her finger through her hair, making sure the person in the mirror followed her. A white line stood out starkly at the roots of her hair, with little lumps that looked like it may have been stitched. It didn’t hurt, but Sally couldn’t remember where she’d gotten it.

She combed her hair over it and forgot about it. She felt great today, she couldn’t look any better.

She was on her third martini when she saw a man staring at her across the bar. He looked away, but she kept her gaze steady. He looked familiar. A red-headed woman suddenly came up to her, ripping her train of thought out of her mind, pulling her to the dancefloor. Sally laughed giddily and threw her drink back. She raised her finger to the bartender who started mixing another, while Sally danced to a ridiculously fast beat.

The next morning, Sally was wrapped in her cotton sheets, makeup smeared on her face. She hadn’t wiped it off last night apparently. She stumbled to the kitchen for a glass of water and put her face under the kitchen faucet. Ah, that’s better, she thought.

She fished through her purse for some painkillers and an ID card stared up at her. It wasn’t her face; in fact, it was a man. Sally thought his familiarity had to be from finding the ID card last night to begin with. But why didn’t she leave it at the bar? And when did she even find it? Her stomach whined and gurgled.

Sally stared at her two toothbrushes and chose the green one today. It was past midday, she was starving. She was craving ramen, so she got on the subway for the best ramen she knew.

Waiting on the platform for the whoosh of air that announced the arrival of the train, she took a gulp of water. As she swallowed, she felt eyes burrowing into her. She turned her head as though to look into the tunnel and glanced over her shoulder. The man who had sat beading sweat in a green coat yesterday was again, staring at her. And again, he quickly looked away. This time to stare awkwardly at his hands.  Sally almost said something, but a strong wind pushed at her and cleared her mind. She was hardly aware of the pair of eyes following her at a 10-foot distance onto the train.

When the train softly chimed that it was at Sally’s stop, she stood up and bumped clumsily into a passenger. She half chuckled and apologized, trying not to feel mortified when she felt eyes on her again. She remembered the man in the coat and locked eyes with him. He was peering at her through bodies standing in the way, and Sally felt panic rise in her chest. She moved to get off the train and tried her best to stay in the crowd of people bustling to the stairs.

She felt someone grasp at her hand which she wrenched away without looking back.

“Hey!” a voice called at her.

Sally sped up, her legs feeling shakier the faster she went. She pressed herself to the walls before finding the women’s bathroom and bursting through the door to hide in a stall. For some time, it was only the sound of her breath echoing in the off-white tiled room.

She heard the door creek and her breath caught in her chest. The person didn’t move, Sally didn’t hear their footsteps. She thought wildly for a second before she turned around and grasped the toilet tank cover in both her hands and the stall door was wrenched open.

Sally swung wildly, feeling the cover connect. She pushed all her weight forward and ran for the door. But she fell with a loud thud, he had grabbed her ankle.

“Oh crap! Are you okay?” he asked. He sounded concerned as though he hadn’t floored her himself.

“Get away!” Sally screamed, kicking her feet. She felt it hit his face and she skated forward on her stomach and rolled over. His blood dotted the floor while she scrambled on her backside against the wall. Her legs couldn’t support her, she couldn’t stand.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” he asked calmly. He was panting a little and used his sleeve to staunch the blood. “Sally?”

Sally froze at the sound of her name. She suddenly realised the ID she had found was his, he was the man from the bar too. Was he following her?

“You know my name?” Who are you?” she asked. Her voice trembled.

“You really don’t recognise me, do you?” he responded. He was sitting up now, watching the blood on his sleeve. He sighed.

“Sally, it’s me. Roger.” he said. Sally’s face scrunched up in confusion. “We’ve been married for 5 years, Sally. Please.”

“I don’t know you.” she said in a soft breath. “I don’t know you. I don’t have a husband.”

“Sally, they said it would be a few months until your memories return, it’s been a year and a half. Please, Sally.” Roger rummaged around in his coat. “They said to give you space. Please, remember me, Sally.”

Sally shook her head, she was crying.

Roger was dialling on his phone, and Sally vaguely heard him telling someone they were hurt and needed medical attention.

When she woke up the next morning, she felt groggy. I was drugged, she thought and felt an IV sticking out of her arm.  There was a dull beeping sound, she realised she was in a hospital room. Everything was hazy and too bright. She blinked enough to clear her eyesight and looked around hoping for some water. A stranger with a bulky bandaged head was slumped in the corner, asleep.

She screamed.