Forget to Remember

deaths, marriages, and other vital statistics that are kept in dusty old rooms in dusty old buildings if we have to. You haven’t lived until you’ve tried to read handwritten two hundred-year-old record books—or perhaps thousand-year-old record books.”
    Carol laughed. “We need to know where to look in order to do that.”
    “Right. Let’s keep the horse before the cart. We need to find people who recognize you, or identify relationships based on where you might have lived, gone to school, worked. What are your family names? That’s why a presence on the Internet is important. It’s fun to find one’s great grandparents, but in your case, we’re just trying to find your parents.”
    “Thanks for the lesson. Statistical analysis sounds like fun. I know girls aren’t supposed to like math, but I have the feeling I’ve dabbled in it at some point.”
    Frances picked up a pad. “That’s good to know. I’ll put it on your profile. It’s time I got off my professorial stool. Tell me what else you remember.”
    “Not much of anything. I have feelings rather than memory. I have a feeling I don’t live in California. Nothing here seems to be familiar to me.”
    “Do you have any feelings for any other part of the country?”
    “Possibly the northeast.”
    “Your accent is compatible with that, although you don’t sound like a New Yorker or a Bostonian. You undoubtedly have a Social Security number, but finding it without a name or your birth date is almost impossible, especially because of privacy laws. You probably have a driver’s license—”
    “She told me she’s a good driver and keeps asking me to let her drive.”
    “I’m sure I can drive a car, but Rigo won’t let me.” Carol gave Rigo a poke, almost spilling the glass of iced tea he was holding.
    Frances said, “You can prove it in an empty parking lot early in the morning. Drivers’ licenses are issued by state. Some states have facial recognition software that can be used to match a photo with pictures on their database, but each state handles that sort of thing differently. Unless we know what state issued your license, we can’t really pursue finding it.”
    Rigo asked, “What about high school and college records?”
    “Certainly. Again, if we can pin down a location, that will help. Carol, you’re smart. You probably went to college. If we can find out your areas of expertise, that can assist us in checking college records and also possible jobs you might have had. Math might be one possibility.”
    “I don’t know whether I’m an expert at anything except getting hit on the head. Although, thankfully, my headaches are getting less frequent.”
    “What about hypnosis for bringing back memory?” Rigo had been partially hypnotized by a classmate in college, and, based on the experience he wasn’t completely convinced it was a good thing.
    “It’s a possibility. You have to be careful. There are cases on record where the person being hypnotized produced false memories.”
    Carol frowned. “Judging from the time I was probably placed in the Dumpster, the doctors think I was unconscious for about twenty-four hours. I don’t want to lose control like that again, at least not right now. Maybe later…”
    “We’ll keep that in reserve. For purposes of describing you, I need your height and weight.”
    “I looked at my hospital records. They said I was five eight and a hundred and fifteen pounds. I may have gained a couple of pounds since then.”
    “Good. You’re awfully thin. Your hair…” Carol took off her beret “…is dark brown, with bald spots.”
    “Some of my hair was shaved off because of my injuries. Those spots are temporary—I hope. But I have a permanent scar on my abdomen that isn’t new.”
    Frances noted that. “And your eyes?” Frances looked closely at her. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’d say they’re almost violet.”
    Rigo took his turn. For a moment he had the feeling her eyes were deep wells and he was in danger of falling into them. He recovered himself with a jerk. “Definitely violet.”
    “Skin color—interesting. That of a tan Caucasian. Have you been out in the sun?”
    “Not in the last few days.”
    “I suspect your ancestry is mixed.” Frances made more notes. “Here’s an idea. You’re young. Most young people today have a presence on the Internet. Social sites like Facebook. Videos on YouTube. Pretty girls are especially likely to have their pictures out