Episode 2

The walk down to the hospital’s front desk was mostly filled with silence. Joe felt the girl, Amy, watching him out of the corner of her eye. She studied him. Trying to figure out how he walked. His mannerisms. Nothing would escape her gaze, he could feel it. Joe didn’t feel surprised that she so easily saw through his ruse; he doubted that much got past her.

“Joe Sinner,” the nurse greeted him, “You’re looking well. Are you ready to check out?”

Joe nodded, “I promised my little one here some ice cream before we went home. You know how it is.” Amy smiled to herself. The nurse laughed along with Joe. Taking care not to cut him, she removed the bandage around his head.

“Looks like that healed up quite nicely,” she said, inspecting the back of his head, “Before I let you go, I need to ask you a few questions. You know how it is.”

He looked sideways at Amy. She put her hand into his own. “Alright, go ahead.”

She flipped open his file, “What’s your name?”

“Joseph Sinner,” he said, “I prefer Joe.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-two,” he replied. Amy’s hand twitched.

“Alright,” the nurse continued on, “What do you do for work?” Joe’s brain froze. Amy turned her hand, twisting it into two different shapes. It took his panicked brain a few moments to register what she was trying to tell him. It was two signs in ASL. Two letters.

“Pee Eye,” he said them aloud. She blinked. “I’m a private investigator. Private eye.”

She nodded, “Correct. Do you know what day you were admitted?” Amy signed like mad. Joe felt beads of flop sweat forming on his forehead. He suppressed the urge to wipe them away, lest the nurse notice his nervousness. “February 22nd, I think,” he managed to keep his composure, “Is that right?”

She blinked, “Close enough. Alright, Joe, you’re free to go.”

“Thank you,” he said politely. Joe took off towards the front door at a brisk pace, with Amy in tow. They didn’t get far before the head nurse arrived at the nurse’s station. They both chatted in hush whispers. The head nurse pointed towards Joe. As he and Amy reached the automatic sliding glass doors, the nurse called out to him once more. He froze, unsure of what to do.

“Wait, stop!”

Amy took hold of the reins, “Daddy, I’m starving! Can we get out of here?”

“Honey, I-“

“Let’s go! Now!” she stomped her foot. The tantrum seemed to be convincing enough. Joe put on the most exasperated face that he could muster. He led Amy out of the hospital. The nurse seemed satisfied enough to not chase after them.

Once they were outside, Amy took Joe by the wrist and led him towards a car. It was a beaten up old green four door sedan. The back seat was littered with old documents in Manila envelopes, protein bar wrappers, and a few pairs of binoculars. Amy tossed him a set of keys. On the ring were two car keys, a post office box key, and a house key.

“I hope you can drive,” she clicked the locked passenger door handle, impatiently urging him to unlock the doors, “my big wheel’s in the shop, after all.”

Joe unlocked the door, “I hope so, too.” Once they slipped inside, the intense smell of tobacco nearly overwhelmed him. He held back the sneeze tickling his nose A thin layer of dust coated most of the dashboard, save for a few small hand prints. Amy put her hands on those same prints as she squirmed around in an effort to take off her huge backpack. She tossed it into the backseat nonchalantly. A plume of dust billowed up in its wake, hanging in the air. Sunlight struck the particles, turning them into puffy little balls of light. He stuck the key in the ignition and turned. The engine turned over a few times before roaring to life.

“Go west for three blocks and take a right at the light,” Amy said coldly. He followed her instructions, and the two of them arrived at a tiny ice cream store. She hopped out of the car as soon as he cut the engine. Joe hesitantly followed her. Her behavior seemed completely normal to the store’s clerk. Amy ordered a peanut butter shake for him, and a strawberry chocolate shake for herself. Joe paid for the order with a few crumpled bills he found in his wallet. She led him to a booth in the corner of the place; presumably for privacy. Joe sat across from her, taking the shake from her. Much to her surprise, she handed him the chocolate strawberry shake and took the peanut butter one for herself.

“Sarah thinks that I have a peanut allergy,” she explained, “but peanut butter shakes are my favorite. You definitely need to know that.”

“Can I try that?” He asked. She rolled her eyes at him. “Nice try. Just because you’re wearing my father’s face and have his eyes doesn’t mean that you can have my shake.” There was no denying it any longer. Amy knew that he was a fraud.

“How do you know that I’m not your father?” He offered.

“My father is the best detective in the world,” she said matter-of-factly, “He taught me everything I know. It took me three seconds to figure out that you don’t know anything about the people around you.”

“Was I really that good?” He wondered aloud.

She smirked, “You have no idea.”

“Why did you let me leave the hospital?”

“It’s not so difficult to figure out. Ever since your incident, I’ve been visiting your room with Bruce every day. I’m so sick of living with Sarah all the time and I want to go home. And I didn’t want to wait while you go to… wherever amnesia people go to re-remember things for half a year,” she explained in between sips from the clear plastic straw. Joe suppressed a smile. For all of her smarts, Amy was a little girl who missed her father. He felt compelled to reach out and pat her head.

“Who’s Sarah?” He inquired instead.

Amy groaned, “The bossiest, most demanding person on the planet.”

“Your mother.”

“That’s right,” Amy stirred the shake with her straw absentmindedly. “She’s also your ex-wife. Which means that she knows you almost as much as I do. So, there’s a pretty decent chance that she might be able to see through this act of yours, too. So, you know, maybe don’t see her directly for a while.”

“Or she’ll see me as an unfit parent and take you away,” he predicted.

Amy slurped out of her straw, “That’s right. You catch on quick.”

“So where do we go from here?” He asked.

“I’m beat, so I say we go home,” she stretched her arms high over her head, which forced out a yawn, “I bet you could use a good night’s sleep, anyway.”

The drive back to his alleged house was spent mostly in silence, except for Amy occasionally giving him directions. This allowed Joe to collect his thoughts. Finding out he was a detective certainly did explain why he was so observant. What he didn’t understand was what he did to get shot in the first place. Or how he hit his head. If his head injury even explained the amnesia. He had a lot of unanswered questions, and he doubted that a twelve year old girl knew anything about them. For now, he would have to keep his head low and figure things out.

As the two pulled into the driveway of a building labeled ‘Sinner Private Investigator’ on a sign, they found the police car waiting for them. An older looking man wearing street clothes, a badge, and a gun waved at them as they pulled into the parking lot.