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    Lee Wilson
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
This story is an original work of gay fiction. None of the people or events are real. While some of the town names used may be real, any other geographic references (school, events) are purely fictional. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is completely coincidental. This story depicts sexual situations between high school aged males. If reading this is illegal where you reside, or you are not at least 18 years of age, you are reading at your own risk. This work is the property of the author, Lee R Wilson, and shall not be reproduced and/or re-posted without his permission.

Rocked To The Core - 4. Making Adjustments Sucks and Damn, How'd THAT Happen?

Writing this, I realized I made a huge mistake in Chapter 2. If Derek and Jeremy have been friends and boyfriends for about a year and a half, Derek would have known Jeremy had a vehicle of some sort. So, I'm correcting that, sort of, in this chapter.

Thursday June 8

We're leaving the hospital, still talking about what to do today. I make an observation.

"Since Wendy's is pretty much on the way to your apartment, we may as well stop there first, OK?"

"Yeah. Food sounds pretty good right now anyway."

After lunch, we head over to his apartment. Mrs. Linden, his landlady, is one of those people who likes to know what's going on in the neighborhood. OK, she's a nosy bitch. She saw us pull in and came out to check where Jeremy had been. Somehow she missed me stopping by yesterday, luckily. I quickly tell Jeremy her name so he doesn't look like a total moron. If we don't have to explain his memory loss to her right away, we should be able to break away before dinnertime.

"Oh, there you are Jeremy. Oh, my, your head is bandaged. What happened?"

"Hello Mrs. Linden. A little accident at work, nothing major, just some cuts."

"That's good. Sorry, Derek, I didn't mean to ignore you. I was just concerned."

"No problem Mrs. Linden. Can we chat later? I want to get Jeremy upstairs so he can rest, the walk to the hospital parking lot tired him out. He hasn't had much activity lately."

"Of course, of course. Why don't you boys join Randall and I for dinner, say 6 o'clock?"

I knew saying no would have started an hour-long debate about why not, so I relented.

"Sure, we can do that. Thank you."

"You're welcome. OK, see you later, feel better Jeremy."

"Thanks Mrs. Linden."

After we got up to Jeremy's apartment, he asked why I said OK to dinner.

"Dinner? Really?"

"If I said no, we'd be debating it for an hour. Believe me, it's less painful to just go along with her most of the time. She's usually sweet, if not a little overbearing."

"OK. You know better. I shouldn't question your decisions."

"No. Go ahead and question. Maybe the answer will trigger more memories."

"OK. So this is where I live? Nothing looks familiar. I guess if I wrote down any PINs or passwords, they'd be in the desk somewhere."

So the search began. The obvious place, the desk, was a bust. After a little while, and half dozen more failures, we noticed a box in his closet, next to, oh shit, a pair of my sneakers. I'd forgot I left them after a visit to the beach. He saw them, but if he noticed they were too big for him, he didn't say anything. Opening the box, we found a little notepad, and a few other, for want of a better term, valuables. In hindsight, valuable was appropriate. He picked up the notepad.

"This looks promising."

"Take a look. If it does have secret info, I don't need to see it."

"Well, as long as you remember where it is, in case my memory goes wonky."

"That, I can do."

He scanned through the first few pages, then flipped past the rest.

"I don't know if it's everything, but it's definitely a start. Bank PIN, credit card account info, password included. Email. Miscellaneous other internet site passwords. Good."

"That's going to save us a lot of trouble if your memory is stubborn."

"Yeah. Some of this other stuff actually looks familiar, but I think because it's from before. My brother gave me this watch for my 13th birthday."

"It looks really nice."

"It is. I looked it up afterwards, it cost $3,000. That's why it stays hidden. A few more things from the past. I don't remember this ring, though."

It's one that I gave him on the anniversary of our first 'date.' It was kind of depressing he didn't remember. That was until he actually picked it up.

"Oh! You gave this to me for our anniversary. I keep it in here unless we're going somewhere. Wearing rings while working with electricity isn't very smart. So that's another memory from the dead time."

"Cool. I'm happy what you're remembering is about me. Hopefuly you'll keep getting more back, other things too."

"Yeah. Um, Derek, the searching really has tired me out. Would you mind if I took a little nap?"

"Not at all. Your health is more important than a couple extra hours with you. I'm sure we'll be spending enough time together over the next couple weeks, or longer. I'll run home, check and see if my brother is home from school. If so, we'll go get your car and bring it back here. Wait, I just realized, and you probably won't be able to answer this, but when did you get a car? You always rode to work with William, and were with me most of the rest of the time."

"Frank, right?"

"Yes. You're getting there."

"OK. You're right, I can't answer that about the car. Later, I'll check out my bank account, see if I have car payments. I'll see you in a little while then. Can't miss our dinner date. Hehe."

"No. That would not be a good idea. I'll take your keys so I can get back in if you're still napping, OK?"

"Yeah, that's fine."

Jeremy laid down, and I headed home. Frank was there. He had a junior license, so driving alone was OK. Good timing on that too, he just graduated from his learner's permit last week. We headed to the job site, chatting on the way.

"So how's Jeremy's memory coming?"

"He's remembered a few things, so it's trickling back. He remembered your name, for example."

"That's cool. But he has been to the house enough times."

"Well, he didn't remember me at all at first, and really only has remembered a couple things about us. It's definitely spotty."

"What's he going to do when you're at work?"

"I'm thinking of taking my next cycle off as vacation days. Beyond that, I was going to ask if you'd be willing to play chauffer until he's allowed to drive again."

"Um, how long would that be?"

"He's not supposed to drive for two weeks, so if I'm off three extra days, basically a week."

"I don't have a car."

"Apparently, Jeremy does. He must have gotten it like, Monday. It was a surprise to me when he had a car key. It just never clicked until earlier today. Everybody 20+ has a car. I completely blew off that he didn't have one before."

"You had other things on your mind."

"Yeah, I guess so."

We got to the job site and there was a Toyota Tundra there. It wasn't cheap truck, and the construction had resumed, so it was possible it was someone else's. I pressed the unlock button when we got close and it did unlock.

"Check the glovebox, see if there's a registration in there, I can't believe this is Jeremy's."

"OK... Yeah, William Perch. Who's that?"

"That was Jeremy's boss. He died after the house collapse. So Jeremy must have come out to the truck to get something before the collapse and still had William's key. That complicates things. OK, you take my Durango and follow me to Mrs. Perch's, see if she needs the truck, and we'll take it from there."

"K."

I'd been there a couple times with Jeremy, but wasn't exactly sure where it was, so I punched the address into my phone's GPS app and took off. She lives in Oakland Park, north of Ft. Lauderdale. It took about a half hour to get there. We walk up to the door and I ring the bell. She answers the door fairly well dressed.

"Oh, hello Derek. And Derek's friend."

"My brother, Frank. Apparently Jeremy had William's truck key when the accident happened. I thought he may have gotten something recently, but when Frank looked at the registration, well, I guess we're delivering the truck back to you."

"I've been so distracted with everything else, I didn't even think about his truck. I was just about to head over to the funeral home for this afternoon's visitation. Will you be bringing Jeremy to the funeral parlor tonight or tomorrow for the funeral?"

"I had the funeral in the back of my mind, yes. I took Jeremy home from the hospital today, didn't mention it to him, but yeah, we'll be there. Where do you want me to park the truck?"

"Oh. Would it be too much trouble to take it to Jeremy's and let him use it until things settle down for me?"

"No trouble at all, if that's what you want."

"Yes, that works for now. We'll talk again in a couple days and decide what to do with it. I don't need it, so it's either sell it, or maybe I even let Jeremy have it."

"Like you said, we can talk in a couple days. I don't think Jeremy's going to be able to handle a truck payment."

"Oh, no. William bought it outright. It's paid for."

"OK. We'll get back in touch in a couple days. Sorry about William, again."

"Thank you. I'll see you soon."

We head back to the vehicles.

"I guess you can follow me to Jeremy's now and we'll park it there. Not that he can use it for a couple weeks. And even if she gives it to him, I don't know how he's even going to afford insurance without a job."

"Yeah, it definitely complicated things being William's, um, Mr. Perch's."

We get to Jeremy's and surprise, surprise, Mrs. Linden comes out to greet us.

"What's this?"

"It's Jeremy's boss's truck. His wife said Jeremy can use it until she figures out what to do with it."

"Oh. But you can't park it here. There's only enough room for our two cars, and even then, mine needs to be in the garage. I told Jeremy when he moved in, he'd either have to park a car on Jefferson Street, or in the Wal-Mart parking lot."

Neither of those were only a short walk away.

"OK, he never mentioned that to me, probably because he didn't have a car himself. We'll take it somewhere else. Thanks. I'll be back later for dinner."

"Thank you for understanding."

"No problem."

Back to the vehicles we go again, stopping outside of them to discuss the plan. Hell, to come up with a plan.

"She could have let him park it on the street in front of their house. There are other cars parked on the street."

"She's a little, um, nosy. I guess she wouldn't want a truck blocking her view of the neighborhood."

"So, where to then?"

"Home, I guess. On the street in front of our house unless dad's OK with parking something on the lawn."

"You been smoking something? That'll never happen."

"Wishful thinking."

We got back to our house, I brought the Tundra key in, put it on my desk, and let my mother know I'd be having dinner with Jeremy and the Lindens. Then back it was to the Linden's to see if Jeremy woke up. He was awake when I got there, but I walked in on my own, having his keys.

"Who the fuck are you?"

Hopefully he's groggy from just waking up. Unfortunately, Jeremy rolled into his nightstand getting up, banging his head yet again.

"It's Derek, Jeremy, we've been together most of three days now, since the accident."

"You've got the wrong place, I don't know who Jeremy is. I'm Bryson. I apparently have had an accident too, my head's bandaged. What am I telling you for. How did you get my keys? Fuck that, just leave them and get out!"

"Um, you had some memory loss after the accident. You'd basically forgotten the last two years."

"I haven't forgotten shit. I just moved here from Georgia. Last warning before I call the cops."

"OK, OK. When you settle down and realize you don't know what's going on, I'm D-A in your contacts. Call me. Please."

"Only call I'm making is to 9-1-1."

"OK. Bye."

I left the keys, and walked back out the door, confused to hell and back. I guess I need to head to the hospital and find his doctor and see what to do. I walk up to the information desk when I get there.

"Hi. I need to talk to Dr. V. Patel. It's about a patient he released today."

"Patient's name?"

"Jeremy Berger."

"Let me call him, please wait."

What the fuck else amd I going to do lady, search the hospital for him myself? This turned into a royal fucking mess.

"You're lucky; he's between rounds. He's in his office in the Doctor's pavillion, through those doors over there, go up to the second floor, suite 202."

"Thank you."

I knock on the Doctor's door.

"Come in."

"Hi Dr. Patel."

"Hello. I'm sorry, was it Darrin?"

"Derek, but that's not important. I brought Jeremy home, we spent some time looking for information about his accounts and the like. I left because he wanted to take a nap. I just went back and he's forgotten everything again. He thinks he just moved here, and didn't know who I am. I don't know what to do."

"You'll have to bring him back here. This is not good. Not good at all. I've never heard of anything like this. He needs to be here."

"That's going to be difficult. I doubt he'll come with me, and if he thinks he just moved here, he won't know anybody else."

"Also not good. It'll take days to get a court order to have him committed. Damn, damn, damn. Give me your phone number. I need to consult with some collegues. I'll call you back when I have any answers."

"OK. Anything I can do to help, just let me know."

"How do you feel about kidnapping?"

I must have looked at him like I saw a mangled Elvis standing next to him.

"I'm sorry. Bad joke. I'll let you know."

Nowhere to go but home.

 

We'll invade Jeremy's mind for a bit.

The nerve of that guy, just walking in here. Damn, I'm so tired lately. Time for another nap. An hour or so later, his phone rings.

"Hello?"

"Hi Jeremy, it's almost 6. Are you and Derek coming to dinner?"

"Sorry, you must have the wrong number, there's no Jeremy here."

"I recognize your voice, what are you trying to pull?"

"I'm not trying to pull anything, lady. I'm Bryson Burlington. I don't know who Jeremy is. I don't know why people think he's me. Bye."

Jeremy hangs up.

What the hell is going on here? Are that guy that came here and this lady right? No. I know who I am. I'm hungry, may as well eat something. I turn to the fridge, and upon looking in, see nothing appetizing. Quite the opposite, some of the stuff looks way past its expiration date. I went shopping, didn't I? Guess I need to go out for something. Let's see what's nearby... Starting point? Here you stupid phone. Looks like the closest place is a Chik-Fil-A. Is it Sunday? Are they closed? Nope, phone says it's Thursday.

Having only looked at the date on the main screen, and not the one that indicates the year, Jeremy walks out of his apartment. Mrs. Linden watches him go.

"Randall, something is going on with Jeremy. He just pretended he didn't know me. Or anything about coming to dinner, and now he just left. If he's going to treat me this way, I want him out!"

"I believe we'd need to give him 30 days notice, since he's month-to-month. Calm down. Maybe there's a perfectly good explanation."

"I'm sure there is. He's probably going to move in with some whore, and skip out on us. He hasn't even paid this month's rent yet."

"Louise, just calm down and we'll talk to him when he gets back."

 

Back to Derek.

When I get home, I look up the Linden's to see if I can find a phone number. Looking at my phone, I see it's a couple minutes to six.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Mrs. Linden. It's Derek. Um, we're going to have to take a raincheck on dinner. Jeremy's had a relapse."

"Relapse, from what?"

"I didn't think it was worth it to mention it before, thinking we'd be back. Jeremy had lost his memory in the accident. He was starting to remember things. I went back to check on him, and he didn't know who I was."

"Oh, no. That would explain why when I called just now he had no idea who I was, or anything about the dinner."

"Yeah, I'm waiting for his doctor to call with suggestions on what to do."

"OK, thank you, Derek. Call me again when things get straightened out."

Bryson found the Chik-Fil-A, had something to eat and left the restaurant to go back home. He had a problem though. He didn't have a clue where it was or how to get there. He didn't even remember which direction he came from. Well, 50/50 chance. He turned right. Right was wrong.


Next Up - "Like a Lost Puppy, and Figuring Things Out"

Copyright © 2023 Lee Wilson; All Rights Reserved.
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Feel free to drop me a line if you haven't already. I appreciate the comments, good or bad. 
If you liked this, check out my other stories on nifty. You'll need to search for my email address, some of those may violate GA guidelines (lee.666.wilson@gmail.com)
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

9 hours ago, centexhairysub said:

Honestly, the doctor should have sent an ambulance and the police to get Jeremy.  WOW, what an up and down chapter.  

That was an option. One problem is if the author doesn't think of that option, it never happens. Sometimes, even if an option is considered, it may be that the author has a vision of something else occurring later that couldn't happen if the option is used. Finally, it could be a combination of the two. This author didn't think of that but does have something planned that would be impossible if an ambulance and police went to pick him up.

8 hours ago, Dan South said:

High drama. So, so good…

I really didn’t see the vehicle mishap in your A/N.

Derek can handle this.

My thinking (too late) was that when Derek first saw the key, it should have clicked that Jeremy previously didn't have a car. Stress of the moment could explain his lack of observation caused by my goof.

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