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“Well, Max, I’ve heard you’ve been having some problems with a few of my staff. Care to elaborate on that?” He sits in one of those rolling stools straight across from me and smiles. The bed I’m on is covered in paper that cracks and crinkles with every move I make.

I can’t answer him of course, and I know this so I don’t bother to make any feeble attempts. I only try to speak when it counts, and this doesn’t count at all. Why? Because he knows too. He knows I can’t answer. At least not in words anyway. So why ask me? Because in his eyes not only am I incapable of speech, I’m incapable of understanding. He’s wrong.  

  “Let’s have a look at you my friend. Miss James, won’t you assist Mr. Max in standing up. I’d like to examine him just a bit more closely.”

My Nurse nods and comes to my side. “Stand up Max. Come on, he just wants to look you over a little, make sure you’re alright. Everything’s going to be fine.” She smiles and I detect sincerity and concern for me in the subtle curve of her mouth. I stand up. The man looks me over, Reynolds still scowling at me from the corner.

 “I see you incurred an injury today.” He takes my arm in his hands, examining the skin. To my surprise, I look down and see red slashes dashing across my flesh. I remember the sound of breaking glass but nothing more. “How did this happen?”

  “Broke a vase full of flowers when he made his attack on me.” Reynolds says with a cynical twist of his mouth.

  “I see.” The low rasping voice comes again. The older man’s gloved fingers trace the outline of my wounds causing pain to shoot up my arm. He looks up at me, studying my reaction. “This fellow either has a very bad nerve system or a very high pain tolerance. Or maybe he’s been trained not to show weakness, like a Special Forces man as you suggested Doctor.” He pulls a pair of scissor-like metal prongs from a tray on the table and with them he begins extracting the glass shards from my arm. “He looks about the right age to be an ex-service man. Eh, probably a bit too young. There wasn’t any ID at all when he was first brought in?”

  “You oversaw the case, Dr. Hamilton. Remember, it was the couple who found him wandering outside their RV. There wasn’t anything linking him to anyone, anywhere.”

My Nurse speaks up, her soft brown eyes still fixed on me. “His face stays like that. No sign of pain, no sign of emotion. But there are times, rare it’s true, but there are times when he shows a great deal. A little before the incident with Dr. Reynolds I’d asked him to play on the piano in the hall downstairs. I had no idea he could play. He never has before. But it was beautiful, and not just a random assembly of notes either. It was a definite tune. Something from his memory. When he finished, he was in tears, Doctor.” She pulled her gaze away from me with the reluctance of a dog savoring an intriguing smell. “That kind of emotion doesn’t stem from someone with no working brain cells.”