[Memory Excerpt from the File of Finnegan “Finn” Walsh, Candidate for Transfer]

  — Agent file #6972533547

  Finn sat outside his brother’s hospital room. He just looked at his hands, hating himself for what he had done. His mother was in the room talking to the doctor. Finn could hear them, but he couldn’t look at his brother’s face right then. The look he had gotten from his mother made it very clear she blamed him.

  She wasn’t wrong—it was Finn’s fault. He had been driving recklessly and hadn’t seen the truck that T-boned them.

  “…yes, Mrs. Walsh, your son is stable. But with him being in a coma, we won’t know if there is any brain damage until he wakes up,” the doctor explained.

  “But don’t you have scans for that? MRI’s?” she asked. Her voice was strained, tired from an already long week.

  “We did an MRI, among other tests, and there was no major swelling. There was evidence of concussion, but that’s nothing out of the ordinary for his injuries. We will be running more tests over the next few days just to monitor it.”

  Finn’s mom said nothing for a moment. “When will he wake up?”

  “We don’t know,” the doctor replied. “It could be in days, or weeks. Or it could be tomorrow. The anesthesia from the surgery has already worn off. We just have to wait and see, Mrs. Walsh.”

  The news was too much for Finn. I can’t face Mom. Despite the accusing look she had given him, she had still hugged him and told him how grateful she was he and his little brother were still alive. Finn wasn’t. He had ruined Sean’s life, putting his little buddy in a coma, maybe for the rest of his life. I should be the one in that hospital bed, not Sean.

  Finn got up and wandered through the hospital. He passed out of the recovery ward with it’s constant, soft beeping. Walking through the halls, barely paying attention to where he was going, he passed hospital staff too busy to deal with someone walking and obviously not a patient.

  He somehow found his way to the surprisingly empty cafeteria and sat down at a table. Putting his head in his hands, Finn contemplated how everything in his life had gone so wrong, so fast. It had been on track.

  A large hand landed on his shoulder. “You alright, bubba?” a man asked.

  Finn looked up into the face of a middle-aged black man with glasses and a beard. The man was looking at him with concern, the bright light of the cafeteria giving his head a halo in Finn’s bleary eyes. “I… no. I’m not,” he said.

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  The man nodded. “Do you want to talk about it? I’m a good listener and I have the time.”

  “Why the fuck not,” Finn replied.

  The man grunted and sat down on the other side of the small square table. “My name’s Terrance.”

  “Finn.”

  “It’s good to meet you, Finn,” Terrance said. “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”

  Finn wiped at his eyes and set his hands on the table. “I fucked up, and my little brother’s in a coma. He’s hurt bad, and it’s all my fault.”

  “That sounds tough, Finn. How old is your brother?”

  “Fifteen,” Finn said, shaking his head and trying to hold back a sob. “I don’t know if he’s going to make it.”

  Terrance nodded. “You don’t know. It’s hard not having the answers; I get it. Do you feel like you can talk about what happened?”

  Finn started to shake his head, but stopped. “I can try,” he said.

  “Good, but if it gets too hard to discuss, you can stop. It’s okay if you’re not ready,” Terrance said, clasping his hands together.

  Finn looked at the man curiously, “Are you a therapist here?” he asked. “Because you sound like a therapist.”

  Terrance chuckled. “You found me out! Yes, I am. Is that a problem for you, Finn?”

  “No, not really. As long as you don’t lie to me and tell me it’ll all be okay,” Finn replied.

  “I’ll not lie to you like that. It’s not okay now, and I don’t know if it’ll be okay later. That’s not up to me,” Terrance said seriously. “Still want to talk about it?”

  Finn looked down at his own hands. “I was giving my brother a lift to a friend’s house and was going too fast. The light turned yellow… and I thought I could make it. There was a truck, and it hit us on Sean’s side. If I would have gone slower or…”

  “Or what, Finn?” Terrance asked. “Taken a different route? Or just not taken him?”

  Finn’s head jerked as he looked up from his hands. “What? Maybe, but I didn’t,” Finn exclaimed. “I went the way I did, and now he’s lying in a hospital room! His life is over because of me!”

  Terrance put his hands out, placating. “Hey, I get it. You don’t want to go down the ‘what if’ path, and that’s a good thing, actually. This is hard enough without finding more ways to blame yourself.”

  “Sorry,” Finn said quietly. “It’s been a shit day.”

  Terrance frowned. “It sounds like it. How are your parents doing with it?”

  “Mom blames me, too. And Dad’s been dead for nine months,” Finn said, his voice cracking with emotion.

  “Nine Months? I’m sorry, Finn,” the therapist replied, his voice thick with empathy. “I think I need some coffee. Would you like a cup?”

  “What I could use is a drink,” Finn said. “But I’ll take some coffee.”

  Terrance stood up and went to the coffee station, the large, silver pump containers gleaming in the light from the overhead LEDs. He returned with two paper cups and some creamers and packets of sugar.

  “What did your mother say to you that made you think she blamed you?” Terrance asked while he added a sugar packet and a creamer to his coffee.

  “It wasn’t what she said. When I saw the look in her eyes—she knows it’s my fault,” Finn said. His face tightened, tormented by his guilt.

  The older man leaned back in his chair. “Dude. I’ve had my share of disapproving looks from my mother. Of my siblings, I was the most difficult, so I got it often,” he said. “I can’t imagine how hard that is for you. I don’t think you should talk to her about it just yet. Let her have some space on the issue. But you should be there for her. It would be good for you too.”

  After Finn and Terrance finished talking, Finn wandered around until he found an exit. The therapist had given him much to think about, but he wasn’t ready to face his mother. He didn’t think he could even be around her yet.

  The rain was still coming down, and the streetlights seemed to glow in the wet darkness. Finn didn’t care. He just wanted to get away and forget. With his head bowed, Finn started walking and didn’t stop until he found a bar.

  [End Memory File Transmission]

  Oh, and they had a decent coffee shop!