She

Her head hurt. It felt like someone had put it in a vise and was alternately squeezing and releasing it to the accompaniment of a band of monkeys banging cymbals and pounding bass drums. The scrapes on her face and arms stung, and the cut just behind her right ear throbbed dully. They’re not even in rhythm, she thought crankily as she shifted her position in an effort to be more comfortable.

Everything hurts so badly it’s hard to go to sleep, and just when I’m dropping off to sleep someone comes in and wakes me up. And talks to me in a language I feel I should know, but I don’t understand it. They don’t understand me when I try to talk to them either. But sometimes someone does, and then it’s frustrating to see them suddenly look blank while I’m trying to talk to them. They couldn’t possibly be idiots if they’re working at a hospital—so does that mean I’m the idiot? At least they left only the night light on in here… I have the feeling that the bright light would only make my head hurt more.

The door opened. She opened one eye carefully and watched as two figures entered. Probably a nurse and one of the orderlies, here to check on her again. She closed her eyes and hoped they would go away soon.

“My dear, are you awake? A friend of yours is here to see you,” the nurse said. The room brightened, a sudden glow across her eyelids. Then she realized she understood what the nurse had said, and opened her eyes to see a young man—a boy?—wearing a gray tracksuit approach and sit down in a chair by her bed.

“A friend?” she asked hopefully. “Do you know who I am…?”

He leaned forward as the door slid shut, and she caught her breath. Dear Lord. I have a guy friend this beautiful? Longish straight black hair flopped over his forehead, almost covering dark almond-shaped eyes, long and slightly uptilted at the corners. A straight nose, high cheekbones, and lush lips. Fair skin. He seemed a little too thin for her taste, though. She frowned; she certainly felt as if she knew him, but his name refused to come to mind.

“I don’t understand your language,” he said slowly, as if he was choosing his words. “But we talked to each other in English.”

English. Oh. Something clicked in her mind. English was the language he used, that the nurse had used. She had been trying to talk to them in another language, one whose name she couldn’t remember.

“What is my language? And what is yours?” she asked.

“My language is Korean. You are in South Korea. In Seoul, to be exact. I don’t know your language,” he said.

“Korea!” She tried to sit up, someone smacked her head with a sledgehammer, and she fell back against the pillow. “Oww. Ow. Owwww. Grrr.” She scrunched her eyes up and lay very still until the monkeys stopped playing their heavy-metal riff.

“Are you all right?”

She opened one eye to see him still sitting there, staring hesitantly at her.

“Some friend you are,” she grumbled. “I could have fainted right in front of you and you probably wouldn’t have lifted a hand. I sure hope you aren’t my boyfriend, because if you are…”

“Well, in fact, I was the one who brought you to the hospital,” he pointed out very reasonably. “And no, I most certainly am not your boyfriend,” he added with a curl of his lip. Those kissable lips. Now where did that come from? Down, girl. That headache must be addling your brains more than the doctor thought.

“I’m in Korea…?” she asked. “I guess this means I’m not Korean then. So… what am I?”

“I don’t know, either.”

She narrowed her eyes at him.

“I thought you’re my friend. How come you don’t know where I’m from?”

“Because you never told me somehow?”

“Oh.” She fell quiet, contemplating what sort of person she must have been to not have told her friends the important stuff about herself. “So… did I never tell you who I was as well?”

He looked down, then looked back at her.

“I called you Mi-ah,” he said. “And that’s all.”

“Oh,” she said again. And that’s all that remains of me… a name that may or may not be my real name. The nurse told me that I accidentally fell and hit my head when someone snatched my purse, and that I didn’t have any papers or ID on me. “Who am I?” she whispered.

The door opened again, and the nurse came back into the room.

“It’s time for you to go,” she said to the guy. “You can come back to get her tomorrow. For now she must rest as much as she can.”

He stood up.

“Thank you, Nurse,” he said. “I will be going now, then.”

“Wait!” the girl in the bed cried as he walked to the door. He turned back and looked at her. “What’s your name?” she asked. “I don’t remember.”

“Jae-seung,” he answered, and gave her a kind smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Jae-seung,” she repeated to herself, snuggling back down into the bed as the nurse dimmed the lights and closed the door behind them. Somehow the name sounded familiar. Somehow. She just couldn’t remember why. But if his name sounded familiar, then I must really know him, mustn’t I?

I have a friend. I have a name. Mi-ah. I’m no longer quite so alone. Even the monkeys have tired of jamming and quieted down. Maybe I can sleep now. Maybe…

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