Barney, Brett - Remember Me

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A Novel by Brett Barney Remember Me?

Remember Me?

A Novel by Brett Barney

above copyright as a footer on each page. This work is registered, and any resubmission or

posting of this work in any form other than its original state is strictly prohibited. Distribution of

the work in its original form is permitted. It may be distributed freely on the basis that no person

collect a profit from it’s distribution. For further information regarding this text, contact it’s

owner at brettlit@aol.com or brett.barney@asu.edu.

A Novel by Brett Barney Remember Me?

Prologue

The radio announcer’s voice only partially permeated the heavy burden of thoughts that

cluttered Edward’s mind, but he subconsciously registered the report of record low temperatures.

Outside, the drabness of the winter evening swallowed up the small college town. The winter of

1965 had been a cold one, and there appeared no signs of it warming.

Edward Penn drove his car the short distance from campus back to his apartment. He

knew that the heater wouldn’t warm up enough to pump out any real heat until he reached the

parking lot of his home, but he had it on anyway. Even the frigid cold didn’t seem to bother him

today.

Edward had a new sensation of life in him. Reaching this point in his college career had

taken immense work on his part. He wasn’t as high a caliber student as his roommate, and had

relied upon his ambition and labor to keep up with the idea of medical school. His future didn’t

look that inviting, and he knew his studies would only get harder from here, but all that had

changed slightly this afternoon. Ray had been offered the chance to steer his efforts and ambition

in a new direction, and one which had seemed right from the mere suggestion of it. He didn’t

even need to take the time to think about the offer, and accepted on the spot.

He climbed out of his car and walked slowly across the parking lot, enjoying the brisk

feel of the freezing air outside. This lasted only a short time, before he could feel the blood in his

cheeks crystallizing, and decided to step up his pace a bit.

Edward entered the warm apartment and opened his coat to shake off the cold. The

radiating heat inside the home quickly soothed his chilled skin. The new snow and lack of clouds

guaranteed that the temperature outside would continue plummeting. He quickly removed the

large coat he wore and walked over to the warm fire.

“They say it'll keep dropping,” spoke the man sitting on the couch in the living room. He

could see the pain in Edward's eyes.

“I don't know if that's possible,” remarked Ed. “I really hate the winters here.”

The small apartment was modestly decorated, making it quite apparent that the two

college students renting it were not interested in interior design. The shag brown carpet and

clashing couches were humbly comfortable, and not meant to impress.

The living room had a small kitchenette attached to it, and across from that sat the

bathroom. The apartment had a fine layer of dust lying across the coffee table, and an assortment

of textbooks spread about. The floor looked as if it desperately needed a vacuuming.

“We ought to clean up around here,” Edward suggested to his roommate. From the

fireplace, Edward could see into each of the two bedrooms, both of which were a wreck. The

A Novel by Brett Barney Remember Me?

bungalow looked like the den of a savage animal. Only the smell of dinner in the air could hide

the kaleidoscope of odors drifting out of the nooks and crannies in the apartment.

“This week’s been too hectic to take the time to clean,” answered the other individual.

“With this big test coming up in physiology and the battery in my car dying, I hardly have time

to take out the garbage flowing onto the floor. Maybe we’ll get to it this weekend.”

“Did you get your car running?” Edward asked.

“Yeah,” the other responded, "but as cold as it was, my hands kept sticking to the tools.

The new battery cost me twenty bucks. I guess I’ll be eating noodles and watered down gravy the

rest of the month. Why do you think it is that car problems always seem to arise at the coldest

time of the year?”

“Murphy’s law, I suppose,” answered Edward. “Look at it as a personal challenge.

Keeping an old car like that running in this kind of weather is a pretty good accomplishment. If

you can do that, medical school will be a breeze.”

“I have enough things to get accomplished without that old car giving me any grief. If it

wasn’t so cold, I would just have walked for the next few months.”

“I don’t think man is physically adapted to handle temperatures like the ones outside.”

“No reason to worry about that anymore,” answered the young student while he

continued to study his book. “By this time next year, we'll be down in California, studying for

our midterms.”

“Maybe not,” answered Edward. “I was offered an interesting proposition today. I don't

know if I want to leave right now.”

“What are you talking about?” asked the other in surprise as he placed the book down on

the coffee table and turned down the bright reading lamp at his side. “You've worked for four

years to go to medical school. What could possibly keep you here after all that?”

“It's not that simple, Ray,” answered Edward. “Dr. Evans asked me if I would like to stay

behind for a while and do some research with him. He's one of the best in the field today. Most

people would die for such an opportunity. It would only be for a couple of years, then I would go

on to medical school.”

“But why slow down?” asked Ray. “There's more interesting things that you could learn

than that old relic's research. You've always dreamed of going to medical school. What makes

you so sure you would get in if you applied again?”

“That's not how I see it,” answered Ed. “If we go to school now, it will be all new for me.

If I stick around here and work with Dr. Evans, I'll have applied experience and some

background compared to other students. There is so much that I could learn from such an

experience. The research he does is astonishing. He's working on some incredible stuff here. Just

A Novel by Brett Barney Remember Me?

the recommendation from him guarantees that you could get into any school you wanted. Later,

when I'm ready, I'll go back to medical school and breeze through it.”

“I don’t understand, Edward,” spoke Ray, “it’s just research. I thought you hated

research.”

“At first I didn’t like it that much, but the man’s been doing some really intense things.

He’s making tremendous discoveries in the field of premature child rehabilitation. We’ve always

wanted to go into obstetrics or pediatrics, and Dr. Evans is doing both. It’s an excellent

opportunity to learn things from an individual versus reading them out of a book. I’m getting

addicted to the research. I don’t want to quit at this point.”

“But why all of a sudden? You’ve never talked about this before.”

“If I stick around now,” explained Edward. “I’ll get my name on every piece of research

he publishes from this point forward. He isn’t asking me to stay on as a pupil, he’s offering me

the opportunity to stick around and become his partner. He’ll pay me a pretty descent wage. He

has all sorts of money from his research grants. I can build a name for myself before I even start

medical school. He’s really close to some incredible findings, I can feel it. I want to be a part of

that. I crave the glory and I want to be part of the advancements.”

“But what about our plan?” asked Ray with a pause. “We were going to do this together.

We've been a team through it all. How do you expect me to get another study partner now?”

“You don't need me to help you. You're a much better student than I am right now. I need

this time to help me iron down my concepts. I don't know if I'll be able to handle it if I enter

school now. Working with an expert like this will give my education the boost I need.”

“I realize the opportunity,” assured Ray, “but you don't need any time to slow down.

You're good at this stuff, you're a natural. Don't let that old man talk you into dropping

everything so that he can work you endless hours for a small wage to do his research for him.

He’ll still be raking in the big bucks. Consider the difference between what he’s offered you and

the money you could be making five years from now.”

“You know I’m not in it for the money,” defended Edward. “He's a smart man, and I can't

let the opportunity pass me by right now. I've been thinking about it all afternoon, and I've never

been more sure of anything. I really want to do this.”

“I just don’t understand. You could do so much for people if you finished school and

began a practice now. There’s a real need for good doctors. Come with me so you can do some

good for people.”

“The work that Dr. Evans is involved with could save a lot of lives, a lot of new and

helpless young lives. The medical field wouldn’t be where it is today if it wasn’t for the

researchers making the advancements that treatments are based on.”

A Novel by Brett Barney Remember Me?

“You’re right, Edward. This just all seems so sudden. Have you talked to your parents

yet?”

“They weren’t sure where they would come up with the money anyway,” stated Edward.

“I know they might be a little disappointed, but it will be better for all of us if I take advantage of

this opportunity. I’m going to call them this evening and explain things to them.”

“Well, I guess congratulations are in order then. I never thought I would congratulate

somebody for not going to medical school.”

“It’s not that bad, Ray,” assured Edward. “I’m excited to be able to do this. I’ve worked

with the man for several months. The knowledge I’ve gained so far is priceless. I really want to

stick around for a little bit longer. When Dr. Evans asked me, I knew right away what my answer

was. I don’t want to sound emotional, but I felt something when I thought about it. There’s

something big at work in all of this, and I can’t turn my back on it. I’m not thinking of it as

quitting. I know I’ll go back and finish up someday.”

“It’s just been really nice having such a good friend as my study partner and roommate,”

expressed Ray. “It’ll be really different trying to go to school without you around, Edward. It

won’t be getting any easier in the future. This is just college, I don’t know if I can do medical

school all alone.”

“You’re a natural, Ray. You’ll do great in medical school, probably top of the class. I still

need a little bit more work. Someday when you have your practice all set up, I’ll come and work

for you. We’ll be partners. I still remember our plans. Someday we’ll share a practice, and work

together to bring lives into the world.”

“So this summer, you’ll just stay behind?”

“Yeah,” answered Edward. “I’ll start getting more involved working with him now, but

this summer I’ll go full time. I might attempt to do a masters degree as long as I’m sticking

around.”

“Well,” uttered Ray as he walked over to one of the kitchen cabinets and opened it,

exposing a host of liquors inside. “I guess if we’re only going to be roommates for another four

months, we should celebrate with a drink. I’ll break out some Brandy.”

A Novel by Brett Barney Remember Me?

Chapter One

Margaret lay sprawled out across her bed looking down at the deep green carpet. Time

had long passed since she heard the busy hustling of voices in the large structure. Marriage and

college had claimed the sounds of her older siblings, leaving her as an only child in her home.

Only on holidays and an occasional weekend did the house seem complete as the entire family

gathered to share their time together. It felt good at first, she thought, but after a period of time,

she came to miss their presence here. The time alone gave Margaret the opportunity to think, and

she often felt she spent too much time in some far distant place, not living her life of the present.

During such times, she often found herself staring blankly into the distance, as she did now. Her

mind drifted into other realms of tranquility, and she dreamed of wide open fields and large

beautiful bodies of water to float aimlessly across.

Deer Hollow had none of these things. The small town felt like a prison. It sat in a small

valley surrounded by enormous mountains. Margaret hated the enclosed environment created by

the mountains. She feared crowded places terribly. The town didn’t support a great number of

people, and everyone knew their neighbors, as their parents had known their neighbor’s parents.

That didn’t bother Margaret, she liked the town. She didn’t like how packed in the town seemed.

It could never grow much larger, for the boundaries already ran up to the sides of the steep hills

on either side of the valley. The long canyon road winding up to the town helped to separate it

from the outside world. Indeed, Margaret often wondered if life existed beyond the canyon, and

months would sometimes pass between visits outside her small town. Recreation balanced out

the negative aspects of the town, and Margaret utilized this asset to its entirety. Claustrophobia

had driven her to breaking the boundaries of the valley at a young age, and her recreational

activities provided for the often visited means of escape. The mountains were a back door, and

something she could count on if the trapped feeling overcame her. Even as she rested on her bed

inside the large room, her door hung open, giving her an exit in the event the walls began shifting

in on her.

Ample sunlight had irradiated this side of the house throughout the day, making it quite

comfortable in the spring evening. The white comforter, accented with floral patterns, still felt

warm on the regions of dark colors and much cooler on the lighter areas. The variation of warm

and cold spots across her bed tickled Margaret’s skin and enticed her senses. Margaret loved the

cool breeze, and welcomed it. It reached out to her, and caressed her warm skin with its sightless

fingers, desperately coaxing her to the wonderful afternoon air outside. The caress fought a futile

fight against the will of her imagination, which had captured her attention at the present.

A Novel by Brett Barney Remember Me?

She had cracked the window to get some fresh and humid air into the stagnant dry

atmosphere of her own room. The forgotten act she generally executed in the morning had come

back to haunt Margaret, bringing out the strange odors of the warm linens and carpeting as it

trapped the heat inside the unventilated room. The gentle breeze slowly carried these scents

away, replacing it with the smell of musty pine from the trees surrounding the valley. The sun

now shone on the opposite side of the house, leaving her with only the remnants of the previous

hours penetrating light to warm the bed she lay upon.

Margaret had only a few months until her eighteenth birthday. In two weeks, school

would end for the year and she had another summer to look forward to. She loved the summers.

During the long vacations, she escaped the secluded town to spend a few weeks with her aunt

and uncle out in the large town of Harrison, a few hours away. There she could see for miles

with only small hills to riddle the horizon. The days were hot, much to her disliking, but the open

range more than made up for the miserable heat.

Margaret didn’t even notice her friend Amy peak inside the doorway. Finding Margaret

this way was nothing new for Amy. Amy almost expected to find her friend lying there, and it

was the first place she looked as she glanced inside the room. Amy waited for some time, hoping

that her friend would realize she had company without alarming her.

Margaret faced away from Amy, but Amy could see the side of her face easily. That look,

the concentrated stare of deep thought, it was not an unfamiliar look to Amy. Even as children,

she remembered that stare on her friend’s face, and watched it change as they both grew.

Through the years, the stare had taken on a more refined look, more precise and keen to the

images and thoughts going through the complex mind of her friend. Margaret had arrived in the

world one day before Amy. The two girls watched one another grow into the women they had

become. A bond between them had forged even before they could walk, and nothing had ever

threatened that bond, even to this day.

“Hey Margaret, whatcha doin?” Amy spoke out in her timid and soft voice.

Margaret jumped in surprise at the intrusion. Her thoughts quickly escaped her mind as

she returned to the reality of her surroundings. It took no time at all for Margaret to recognize the

person in her doorway. She looked over at the long haired girl as she collected her strength to get

up from the bed and speak to her. The interruption had disturbed an enjoyable thought, but

brought her back to the reality of the day around her, and Margaret knew it was time to get back

to the present.

Amy wore shorts, eager to enjoy the early spring sunshine. Her legs still showed the

remnants of the long winter, though a little change of color had occurred in the pigments from a

few afternoons of tennis the week before. From Margaret’s position on the bed, Amy looked

A Novel by Brett Barney Remember Me?

taller, but it was just an optical illusion. Amy stood only slightly taller than five and a half feet,

and was an inch and a half shorter if you didn’t count her tightly curled brown hair.

She was much shorter than Margaret, who stood only a couple of inches short of six feet.

Amy didn’t possess the strength of Margaret either. Margaret could do more pull-ups than most

of the guys in town and her strong, firm legs exhibited the years of exercise. Her shapely build

didn’t hide the many feminine features and her womanly curves. She was a lady as well as an

athlete.

“Hey Amy, you scared me to death,” spoke Margaret, trying to calm her speeding pulse.

Amy’s frame looked much less threatening. Though she often joined Margaret in her

recreational activities, she hadn’t worked as hard to increase her muscle density and strength.

Amy’s mother had taught her the importance of good health, and her slim body and well-toned

muscles demonstrated that she had taken that guidance seriously. She tackled fitness with much

less ambition, however, than she pursued the other avenues for her future. Amy had always

directed her efforts towards her schoolwork. She had a dream to become a doctor, and thus she

conquered books, not mountains.

“I’m sorry,” apologized Amy, looking around the spotless room. “I just thought I would

stop by and see what you’re doing. Your mom sent me up. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I was just daydreaming,” replied Margaret, pulling her hair from her

face, allowing it to all hang to the opposite side. The soft honey blond hair looked thick and well

cared for. Margaret took pride in her long hair, buying the best conditioners and treatments to

care for it. “It’s time I got up and did something anyway. What do you want to do?”

“Well, my mom’s having dinner in about an hour. I figured that since your parents are

going out with their friends, you might want to come join us. My dad’s out on business and so it

would just be the three of us.”

“I think I’ll take you up on that offer,” answered Margaret.

“Great, I already asked your mom if she minded, and she seemed all right with the idea.

We can leave whenever you would like.”

“Let’s go ahead and leave now. It’s a shame to waste all this wonderful weather by sitting

around in the house. I’d love to head over and mess around in your backyard.”

“Yeah, maybe my mom will let us eat out on the back porch. The weather is so nice

outside, and the bugs aren’t bad yet. It will be the first backyard picnic of the year.”

Margaret pushed herself up off the bed, and walked over to her closet, removing a light

sweater and her tennis shoes. She wore a pair of sweat pants, which she had cut off about mid-

thigh, and a T-shirt. She raised her arms up high above her, pulling the sweater down over the

shirt. When she did this, the muscles in back and shoulders tightened up, displaying the total

strength of her body. Amy didn’t notice her friend’s well-defined muscles. While easily observed

A Novel by Brett Barney Remember Me?

by those who might admire the girl, Margaret was not a weight lifter, and did not try to attain a

large amount of muscle mass. Her strength served a purpose, and efficiency weighed heavier

than mass in that purpose. Amy noticed her friend’s grace and elegance as she walked. Several

years of ballet and modern dance had taught both girls that, but Margaret applied that grace to

everything she did, even scaling mountains. She sat down in the gliding rocking chair and pulled

her shoes over the socks she wore around the house. Margaret certainly didn’t fit the typical

image of the female mountain climber.

The two girls left the room and headed down the stairs to the front door of Margaret’s

house. Margaret could hear her mother nervously pacing the floor in the kitchen, but couldn’t see

her as they reached the door. She yelled back a good-bye to her mother as she left the house. Her

father had still not returned home from work, but Margaret knew he would arrive any minute.

For a doctor, he kept his appointments quite well.

“Can I have some more muffins?” Amy asked her mother.

“Sure,” her mother answered as she handed them across the table to her daughter. “I

forgot your father wasn’t going to be home when I started cooking. There’s plenty more where

those came from.”

Amy didn’t mind that her mother referred to the man as her father. After almost ten years

of marriage to her mother, he had become the father figure in her life. She sometimes even

referred to him as dad, but usually kept things on a first name basis. The relationship she had

with her parents was a strong one, and she had never rebelled against the man whom her mother

had chosen as a lifetime mate. Her mother had never forced the strong relationship between Amy

and her stepfather, it just happened.

It didn’t bother Amy that she had to share her mom with someone else after eight years of

life as child in a single parent home. They did pretty well on their own, but Daren had filled a

void that her mother needed. He never came between their impregnable relationship, and Amy

saw him as a means to enhance their lives and a person to share the good times together. Her

mother had even asked her approval before marrying Daren, something which meant a lot to a

young girl afraid that she might get brushed aside. Not many daughters are flower girls in their

mother’s own wedding, and Daren was a good father to her.

“This is really good, Mrs. Jensen,” Margaret complimented, taking more chicken from

the small outdoor table. All three ladies wore sweaters during the meal. They realized that the

evening dinner on the porch was still a little premature for the early spring, but nobody seemed

to mind. It felt good to get outside and enjoy the spring weather. Margaret had eaten many meals

on this deck, and this year promised many more. She glanced around the scenery which

surrounded her, realizing for the first time that these events she sometimes took for granted,

A Novel by Brett Barney Remember Me?

would slowly draw to a close. Her life had major changes ahead, as did Amy’s, and soon the

nights like this would only pop up as fond memories in her endless daydreams. The thought

made her appreciate the evening even more.

The colors of life in the lawn had started to creep through the layer of dead vegetation

remaining from a long winter. In time, the deep colors produced by the ample rainfall would

span out across the well cared for backyard flower garden, which Mrs. Jensen held such great

pride in. The small blades of grass weaving their way to the surface were only an indication of

what lay ahead for the future.

“Thank you, Margaret, but please, call me by my first name. I don’t know how many

times in my life I’ve told you not to call me Mrs. Jensen. It makes me feel really old. I’ll have to

quit inviting you over if you keep making me feel like an old woman.”

Margaret smiled at the reminder. Amy’s mother always had a fun sense of humor, and

Margaret thought of her more as one of the girls than her best friend’s mom. Margaret didn’t like

to upset the woman, but enjoyed her friendly teasing. The accidental usage of etiquette was the

fault of background, and not intended to offend Amy’s mother. She had much respect for the

woman.

Mrs. Jensen was right. As long as Margaret could remember, she had told Margaret to

refer to her by her first name. It was quite different from her own home, where you addressed

people in a respectful voice. Her father told her that respecting adults meant using proper titles

when speaking to them. Her parents had taught the children proper etiquette at a young age, and

old habits die hard. At Amy’s house, things were much more laid back.

Mrs. Jensen always did seem younger to Margaret. After all she had gone through in her

life, she still looked at the world with a smile. She took good care of herself and had an

incredible figure, especially for someone in her late thirties. Margaret sometimes teased Amy

that guys came to visit her just to get a look at her mother. She and Amy could stand next to one

another and look like sisters, and many people mistook them for just that. They were about the

same size.

The sun began to creep down below the mountains in the distance. Margaret knew there

wasn’t much time left before the light would cease altogether. The air grew cooler as evening set

in across the small valley. Margaret didn’t mind though. She enjoyed the cool spring evenings.

The addition of a light jacket to one’s wardrobe could keep you warm here, and the darkness

helped to hide the mountains which surrounded the valley. Millions of tiny stars would soon

cover the clear sky above, and starlight felt romantic.

Margaret reached over and patted the dog that sat beside her on the deck. The loyal

animal had remained there patiently for some time, making it apparent that he wished to taste

some small morsels of the food from their plates. Amy noticed also, and handed him a small

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ANovelbyBrettBarneyRememberMe?©1995BrettBarneyLiteraryPage1RememberMe?ANovelbyBrettBarneyThefollowingmaterialiscopyrighted.Copyright1995BrettBarneyLiterary.Theownerofthiscopyrightallowsonetimeprintrightstoreadersofthistext.Hardcopiesshouldincludetheabovecopyrightasafooteroneachpage.Thisworkisregiste...

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