Me, Mike, and Amnesia, chapter 5
Tre, Mike and I finally got our food and headed back to the apartment.
"You think Billie Joe had any luck finding someone that can help me?" Mike wondered aloud.
"I don't know..." Tre said, unsure.
"I'm sure he did. We've been gone almost twenty minutes, he has to have found something by now." I said, pumping cheeriness into my voice.
So there we were. We climbed the stairs slowly, and I noticed Tre's hand shaking slightly as he turned the key in the lock. We we all pretty anxious. I guess we had thought it would be easier to find someone to help than it was turning out to be. Tre pushed the door open, and right away we heard Billie Joe yelling.
"NO! GODDAMMIT, DON'T YOU DARE PUT ME ON HOLD, YOU BASTARD! DO YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT I AM SAYING TO YOU?! MY BEST FRIEND WOKE UP THIS MORNING WITH NO MEMORY OF WHO HE IS, AND NO ONE SEEMS TO GIVE A DAMN ABOUT IT!" The yelling stopped. "Hello? Hello?" The person on the other line had obviously hung up.
"Fuck!" Billie Joe shouted in anger as tears of frustration began to pour out of his eyes. He banged his head on the table with three loud thunks, then seemed to see us out of the corner of his eye. "Oh! Hey, you guys, uh....." he had no way to explain, but he didn't have to.
All three of us stood there silent, our mouths slightly open. Mike spoke first.
"So, no one can help me. Great," he said, completely defeated, slumping into a chair next to Billie Joe.
"No! I didn't say that," Billie Joe said quickly, trying to cover up everything. "This just means...we haven't found the right person yet."
"Bullshit. I'm never going to remember anything, and I might as well get used to living as an invalid. You should just call the mental institution so they can teach me how to eat."
"Oh, Mike," I sighed, wrapping my arms around him and resting my chin on his shoulder. I wanted to comfort him, but I knew it was no use.
"Well, maybe if you tried to help instead of sitting there whining, something would actually get done," Tre spat bitterly.
"Tre!" I couldn't believe he had just said that.
"What?" he said defensively. "He's the one with the fucking problem, he should do something about it."
Mike got up quickly and stomped into the living room.
"Mike, wait!" I called, running after him.
"Yeah, go comfort the fucking baby," I heard Tre mutter as I left.
I found Mike sitting on the couch, his feet resting on the table, staring at the ceiling.
"Hey." I said gently, motioning him to scoot over, which he did. I sat. "Don't listen to Tre. I don't know what his problem has been lately, but he's usually a great guy."
Mike scoffed in disbelief.
"Yeah, I know, hard to imagine now." I said.
"It's not just that." Mike said quietly. "But I can't stand the thought that I have to learn my life all over again, and start living it as though I was just born today. I mean, I'm sure I know other people, I've done things that I have to remember again. I'll never be the same as I was before....before this."
"And all Tre can do is be rude about it." I finished. Mike nodded.
"Well...I'm not really sure what I can say that's going to make you feel better, except false promises of help." I said.
"Yeah, I know." he muttered, but he obviously didn't want to believe it.
Tre poked his head in, then dragged his feet over to where we were sitting. He had obviously been sent by Billie Joe.
"Uh...Mike? I'm sorry." He hesitated, searching for something else to say.
"It's okay." Mike said.
"Really?" Tre asked.
"If you promise me one thing."
"Sure, anything."
"Stop being an asshole, at least until I get my memory back."
Tre laughed. "Yeah, sure, Mike. Now, did someone say something about muffins?"
I heaved an exaggerated sigh. "Can't you ever think about anything but food?"
Tre stopped to think about this for a second. "Um...no. No, I can't." Mike and I laughed, then rejoined Billie Joe in the kitchen.
Billie Joe had already drank half his coffee and eaten most of his scone.
"Oh. Hi." he managed to get out, his mouth full of food.
I rolled my eyes. "You. Are. Disgusting."
"Thank you," Billie Joe smiled. We sat, and it was quiet for a while as we all ate. Billie Joe seemed to be thinking about something. "Oh, shit! What's today?"
"Sunday," I supplied, at the same time Tre said, "The twenty-third," and Mike remarked, "I don't know, I'm the amnesiac, remember?"
Billie Joe laughed in spite of his obvious agitation. "Okay, don't all answer at once. Really. Anyway, we have a gig tonight, at a club."
Mike was obviously confused, but tried not to show it.
"Oh. We're in a band. We're called Green Day. You play bass." Tre explained.
"I see. And I'm supposed to play...how?"
"Yeah, you're right. I guess we'll have to cancel," Tre realized, looking at Billie Joe, who was deep in thought.
"No...wait a second." He disappeared into his and Mike's room, and returned with Mike's bass, which he handed to Mike. "Play." he commanded.
Mike paused, strummed, then began to play a song, a look of complete amazement covering his face. "I...I don't know how I'm doing this."
"Me neither!" Billie Joe cried joyfully. "But the point is, you are!"
Tre and I looked at each other in shock. We hadn't seen Billie Joe this happy in weeks. He was grinning and laughing, and, to our horror, began to dance around the small kitchen like a lunatic. He grabbed my hand, pulled me to my feet, and forced me to dance as well. I did the same to Tre, and Mike stopped playing, he was laughing so hard.
When we all stopped laughing and wiping the tears of laughter out of our eyes, we all collapsed at the table once again.
"But we should still cancel the gig, just so you can get your rest back," Billie Joe said to Mike, who nodded, his good mood immediately evaporated.
"I'm really sorry. I know what you guys' band must mean to you."
"Hey, it's okay." Tre assured him. "It's just one night, and you can still play, so we can do the next one."
I happened to glance at the clock. "Holy crap! It's three o'clock. Where DID the time go?"
The guys seemed to shrug. I wondered what we were supposed to do now.
"You think Billie Joe had any luck finding someone that can help me?" Mike wondered aloud.
"I don't know..." Tre said, unsure.
"I'm sure he did. We've been gone almost twenty minutes, he has to have found something by now." I said, pumping cheeriness into my voice.
So there we were. We climbed the stairs slowly, and I noticed Tre's hand shaking slightly as he turned the key in the lock. We we all pretty anxious. I guess we had thought it would be easier to find someone to help than it was turning out to be. Tre pushed the door open, and right away we heard Billie Joe yelling.
"NO! GODDAMMIT, DON'T YOU DARE PUT ME ON HOLD, YOU BASTARD! DO YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT I AM SAYING TO YOU?! MY BEST FRIEND WOKE UP THIS MORNING WITH NO MEMORY OF WHO HE IS, AND NO ONE SEEMS TO GIVE A DAMN ABOUT IT!" The yelling stopped. "Hello? Hello?" The person on the other line had obviously hung up.
"Fuck!" Billie Joe shouted in anger as tears of frustration began to pour out of his eyes. He banged his head on the table with three loud thunks, then seemed to see us out of the corner of his eye. "Oh! Hey, you guys, uh....." he had no way to explain, but he didn't have to.
All three of us stood there silent, our mouths slightly open. Mike spoke first.
"So, no one can help me. Great," he said, completely defeated, slumping into a chair next to Billie Joe.
"No! I didn't say that," Billie Joe said quickly, trying to cover up everything. "This just means...we haven't found the right person yet."
"Bullshit. I'm never going to remember anything, and I might as well get used to living as an invalid. You should just call the mental institution so they can teach me how to eat."
"Oh, Mike," I sighed, wrapping my arms around him and resting my chin on his shoulder. I wanted to comfort him, but I knew it was no use.
"Well, maybe if you tried to help instead of sitting there whining, something would actually get done," Tre spat bitterly.
"Tre!" I couldn't believe he had just said that.
"What?" he said defensively. "He's the one with the fucking problem, he should do something about it."
Mike got up quickly and stomped into the living room.
"Mike, wait!" I called, running after him.
"Yeah, go comfort the fucking baby," I heard Tre mutter as I left.
I found Mike sitting on the couch, his feet resting on the table, staring at the ceiling.
"Hey." I said gently, motioning him to scoot over, which he did. I sat. "Don't listen to Tre. I don't know what his problem has been lately, but he's usually a great guy."
Mike scoffed in disbelief.
"Yeah, I know, hard to imagine now." I said.
"It's not just that." Mike said quietly. "But I can't stand the thought that I have to learn my life all over again, and start living it as though I was just born today. I mean, I'm sure I know other people, I've done things that I have to remember again. I'll never be the same as I was before....before this."
"And all Tre can do is be rude about it." I finished. Mike nodded.
"Well...I'm not really sure what I can say that's going to make you feel better, except false promises of help." I said.
"Yeah, I know." he muttered, but he obviously didn't want to believe it.
Tre poked his head in, then dragged his feet over to where we were sitting. He had obviously been sent by Billie Joe.
"Uh...Mike? I'm sorry." He hesitated, searching for something else to say.
"It's okay." Mike said.
"Really?" Tre asked.
"If you promise me one thing."
"Sure, anything."
"Stop being an asshole, at least until I get my memory back."
Tre laughed. "Yeah, sure, Mike. Now, did someone say something about muffins?"
I heaved an exaggerated sigh. "Can't you ever think about anything but food?"
Tre stopped to think about this for a second. "Um...no. No, I can't." Mike and I laughed, then rejoined Billie Joe in the kitchen.
Billie Joe had already drank half his coffee and eaten most of his scone.
"Oh. Hi." he managed to get out, his mouth full of food.
I rolled my eyes. "You. Are. Disgusting."
"Thank you," Billie Joe smiled. We sat, and it was quiet for a while as we all ate. Billie Joe seemed to be thinking about something. "Oh, shit! What's today?"
"Sunday," I supplied, at the same time Tre said, "The twenty-third," and Mike remarked, "I don't know, I'm the amnesiac, remember?"
Billie Joe laughed in spite of his obvious agitation. "Okay, don't all answer at once. Really. Anyway, we have a gig tonight, at a club."
Mike was obviously confused, but tried not to show it.
"Oh. We're in a band. We're called Green Day. You play bass." Tre explained.
"I see. And I'm supposed to play...how?"
"Yeah, you're right. I guess we'll have to cancel," Tre realized, looking at Billie Joe, who was deep in thought.
"No...wait a second." He disappeared into his and Mike's room, and returned with Mike's bass, which he handed to Mike. "Play." he commanded.
Mike paused, strummed, then began to play a song, a look of complete amazement covering his face. "I...I don't know how I'm doing this."
"Me neither!" Billie Joe cried joyfully. "But the point is, you are!"
Tre and I looked at each other in shock. We hadn't seen Billie Joe this happy in weeks. He was grinning and laughing, and, to our horror, began to dance around the small kitchen like a lunatic. He grabbed my hand, pulled me to my feet, and forced me to dance as well. I did the same to Tre, and Mike stopped playing, he was laughing so hard.
When we all stopped laughing and wiping the tears of laughter out of our eyes, we all collapsed at the table once again.
"But we should still cancel the gig, just so you can get your rest back," Billie Joe said to Mike, who nodded, his good mood immediately evaporated.
"I'm really sorry. I know what you guys' band must mean to you."
"Hey, it's okay." Tre assured him. "It's just one night, and you can still play, so we can do the next one."
I happened to glance at the clock. "Holy crap! It's three o'clock. Where DID the time go?"
The guys seemed to shrug. I wondered what we were supposed to do now.
