PAUL BRYAN'S JOURNAL
From the diary about this episode:
Thursday, November 25
All charges but the blackmarketeering have been dropped, and Corbett received the lightest possible sentence. It was worth hanging on.
Major Fowler is handling the follow up, and I wished Dave good luck. He hugged me, and said he'd never forget. Told him I wouldn't either, and was so sorry that it didn't work out for Linda, but he replied that he knew a long time ago that she'd gone beyond hope.
Got an afternoon flight to Zurich, and then a train here. Will post these pages to the Paris apartment, and get a good night's sleep.
Friday - Saturday, November 26 - 27
According to my hotel, I have been in Davos for the last three days, having arrived from ATHENS! I can't remember a bit of this time, or for that matter, anything of the last eight months - or so it seems.
But from the stamps in my passport, it appears that I've been all over the world - Africa, India, Laos, New Guinea, and Brazil among others. Paul Bryan, the man who never took a day off work.
The last thing I can remember is saying goodbye to Kate in April, but my passport shows that I've left and returned to San Francisco quite a few times since my departure the beginning of that month.
Sunday, November 28
Today, I spoke with a psychiatrist who informed me that this amnesia has nothing to do with the bump on my head - something else I can't remember - a tobogganing accident. He wants to put me under a drug which might help me by releasing some buried memory.
Dr. Werner thinks that I might be trying to suppress some particular experience or knowledge. That I have been running away from something appears a clear possibility.
All I have is that last image of saying goodbye to Kate. Can't help wondering if she went back to Armand. My eternal fear. Could it be that his wife, strong again, had taken off, and enabled Kate and Armand to be together again?
Or maybe it's something political - a scandal or embarrassment so great that I just split - or a similar incident involving my relationship to the firm. But that just doesn't sound like me. Mind you, neither does all the globe trotting.
Have rung Katie again and again at home, but no answer. Not at her parents either. This would have to be a day the gallery is closed, but I'll try there tomorrow.
Monday, November 29
Went under a deep drug, but still can't remember anything but day-to-day things in San Francisco. I keep looking in my passport for a clue, but despite the quantity of them, nothing rings a bell and nothing in my luggage does either.
Was too foggy to make any calls after the drug, but will try tomorrow after getting Dr. Werner's analysis.
Tuesday, November 30
Dr. Werner informs me that, under the drug. I talked about needing to travel around the world.
Looks like I've done that, but apparently a lot more - like driving race cars, sky diving, being arrested for murder - and nearly arrested for trying to kill Fidel Castro, tangling with the mafia in Las Vegas - maybe twice, in addition to being kidnapped, and even jumping off the cliffs at Acapulco.
(That last one has to be a fantasy. Maybe the whole lot were fantasies. I can't see how they could be anything else. So many involve things that I've thought about in the past.)
Dr. Werner also informed me that the woman I appeared to be in love with was not Kate, but someone named Nicole. Keep saying the name over and over to myself, but no face appears, no feeling touches my heart.
No luck phoning Kate's or her parents either, and the woman at the gallery simply said that she wouldn't be in all this week.
When I rang the firm, was put direct to Ben Du Pre who was very welcoming, sorry to hear about my accident, and said that he hoped I'd be accepting his offer. My office was there for me any time I wanted it.
What offer? Apparently, I have left the firm. Tried to act cool and play along with him, and kept the call brief.
New York City
Wednesday , December 1
The doctors said I was well enough to travel, so it seemed the best place to go was back home - where my memory ends - and the mystery starts.
All through the flight from Zurich to New York, I kept thinking that some little bell would ring in my head, but nothing. It feels good to be in New York, but no night life. I promised the doctors to be in bed early.
Thursday, December 2
If I expected surprises in San Francisco, they started immediately. With my house and car keys missing from my keyring, I was going to ask the Morgans next door to let me in with theirs when I noted a bunch of strangers sitting in my house as soon as I parked in the driveway.
Knocked, and was warmly greeted by name, the lady apparently my tenant, and her husband a new associate with HSD. She couldn't have been nicer, showed me the lease I'd signed, was very understanding about my loss of memory, and even invited me to stay in the guest room.
I asked her where my paintings were, and she said that they'd been removed before they moved in. It was surreal. I used the phone, but still couldn't reach Kate, so went to her apartment building.
It was like Fort Knox, and the attendant refused to tell me anything. Got a stroke of luck then, and saw a neighbor I knew slightly, but she said that Kate wasn't living in the building any more.
Bigger shock was going to her parents' home. It was for sale. Checked the phone book then, and actually found Molly listed, but the line was busy for an hour.
In the meantime I tried David Gaffney, having apparently mentioned Pete's name a lot under the drug. Finally someone close I could talk to.
He regaled me with stories about GB Racing, the B being for Bryan!!! If it weren't a man as solid as my father's law partner, I'd be sure this was one big practical joke.
He spoke of how I'd made an incredible move in Rio that probably saved the life of Jim Clark. On and on he dazzled me with the most extraordinary stuff, but didn't have any idea why I'd left in April.
If Pete knew, his father wasn't aware of it, but said that he and June were on their annual vacation in the South Pacific - as always, in communicado for a month.
Also talked to Garrett Hamilton who was very kind, but no help - mystified at why I left. But he too had a bombshell. I'd sold him the Sea Farm.
Gave up with the phone, and went to Molly's. She talked about seeing me in Rio, said that her father was dead, but was uncomfortable discussing the sale of her parents' house.
And when it came to Kate, she wouldn't budge. I couldn't understand it. At that point it was surely looking like she'd gone back to Armand.
Molly was having a little party, Alex Ryder appearing to be her date, maybe live-in boyfriend, and he was the one who finally let the cat out of the bag.
Katie had some kind of breakdown, and Alex made no bones about accusing me of being the cause. He then went on to talk about me coming back to sniff around her now that she had the millions. It was dazzling!
With Molly remaining as much a stone wall as Kate's building receptionist, figured I'd have to find some other way of getting at the truth, and started to leave, but Molly stopped me, suggesting we meet for breakfast.
After that I went to Dwight Sinclair - without ringing first. He looked older, and very care-worn, to give him an accurate description. Explaining about the memory loss, I wondered if he might be able to help me.
Dwight ushered me in the mansion, then knocked me for a loop with the news that his daughter had been shot dead before his eyes. I had not only been there to witness the tragedy, but had killed her assailant.
He was trying to get over the loss by throwing himself into a Constitutional Amendment campaign, and almost appeared unaware that I was there.
When Dwight finally stopped speaking, I asked him if he knew why I'd left San Francisco, but he also had no idea, and assured me that there was no political scandal or embarrassment, only bewilderment on all sides why I'd walked away from my political future.
Dwight insisted I stay the night with him, and I was grateful to have a familiar place to lay my head. Maybe I should take the Abel Leader up. That always cleared my mind. I just have to hope that I'm going to wake up in the morning with my memory back.
Friday, December 3
Molly spelled out a tale of woe that broke my heart. My solid, reliable and ever-resilient Katie had collapsed after my sudden departure, and had been hospitalised for nearly three months.
I kept asking why no one informed me, and Molly seemed to imply that my presence would have made things even worse. She said that it was with great reservation that she'd give me Kate's new address either, unsure what it would do to her if she saw me again.
Told Molly my passport indicated I'd been back in San Francisco quite a few times, and found it strange that I hadn't seen Kate. Molly replied that if I'd tried, the clinic would have barred me.
Whatever I did, she instructed, when I was with Kate, I shouldn't kiss her, embrace her, tell her I loved her or speak of our engagement. I should think of myself as a casual friend or gallery client with a memory loss problem.
“It's crucial for her sanity, Paul!” Molly had insisted, and I promised to pay strict attention to the rules, behave as circumspectly as possible in order to protect Katie.
I asked Molly what Alex meant about the millions, and she answered self-consciously that her father had left Kate all the money and businesses, she and her mother only receiving a monthly income.
It was plenty, she assured, and the three women had spent a warm and amicable Thanksgiving together. I said that Alice might be able to help with my mystery, but Molly indicated that her mother was living in South America with the man she'd been having an affair with!
Before I left, Molly assured me she'd ring Katie soon as I was gone, and warn her that I was on my way.
Kate was living in a new place. Not the grand two-story apartment on Nob Hill, but a simple abode - very modest in comparison.
It felt odd - well, insane - to enter the place, and act like a stranger, but I did my best to follow Molly's guidelines. Katie herself was completely distant - so unsure of herself, I couldn't believe it.
My regal, self-contained darling, a woman of infinite grace, warmth and brightness had become a jittery, tense and almost haunted creature.
As far as being able to help me, she said that I hadn't given any reason for my departure in April, and refused to talk about what had happened to her.
I was crestfallen, so sure that she'd have the answer to everything. Alex wasn't wrong. I had obviously done damage to the core of my beloved, and she didn't even want to have dinner with me.
It was as if she were the one who had lost her memory. I mentioned being in San Francisco several times since April, and asked her if we'd seen one another.
She just turned and said that she couldn't talk to me any more, and begged me to leave, then said “for now, anyway” implying that she might be willing to speak later.
Of all the shocks and surrealism of the last week, this encounter had to be the most incredible. A woman I was within four weeks of marrying, unable to remain in my presence.
Troubled and deeply confused, I went to the firm, and had many discrete conversations with colleagues, but no one had any answers for me.
However, nearly everyone said that they thought Marcella had been in regular contact with me, and I should talk to her. Problem is that she took a long weekend, and won't be back until Monday.
Had dinner with Dick and Maria Phillips who said that they'd been fishing with me in Mexico last June, but that I'd said nothing about why I left. Another blank wall.
Still, their company and warmth was a tonic. When I got back to Dwight's, there was a message from Molly to meet her at Alex's.
When I got there, another party was going on, and Molly only wanted to know how things had gone with Kate. I tried to give her a vague response, and get out of there, then someone shoved a lottery ticket in my hand, insisting that everyone was buying one.
Paid for it, got out of Alex's as quickly as possible, and went back to my office, ploughing through files, drawers and notebooks until giving up around 3 am.
Called Katie after that. We were a little better on the phone, and she's agreed to meet me for dinner tomorrow night.
Saturday, December 4
The day has been a total loss. I've talked to so many people - most of them dear friends,- and no one had even a small lead. If Katie can't be more help tonight, am down to something Molly described from our apparent meeting in Brazil.
She'd heard me remark to Pete how a redheaded model there looked like a woman I'd seen my last night in San Francisco, after which I'd seemed a little down to her. It sure isn't much to go on.
At the end of the useless day, went back to Dwight's to shave and freshen up for tonight. What I really want to do is suggest to Katie that we get married immediately after this amnesia mess is straightened out - or even if it isn't.
Ben Du Pre showed me the package he'd apparently offered me only a week earlier, and they're terms I have to grab at. The political career is probably gone after my erratic behavior, but it doesn't feel like that matters - at the moment, at least.
Sunday, December 5
Met Kate for dinner last night, and though she told me nothing, she was transformed back to her warm and loving self; it was like we were before, and so wonderful to be with her.
Was ready to just leave things as they stood, and suggest a Christmas wedding, but couldn't help but be obsessed with trying to find the reason for my departure.
We agreed that I should try and find a track to the redhead whom Molly mentioned. That is, Kate pretended to agree. But when we said good night, she was near tears and begged me not to kiss her.
When I'd broken Molly's rules at dinner, and spoken to Kate about my feelings for her, her kiss had been responsive and loving, so I asked again if we'd seen one another since April, and her voice went to a whisper.
A lot, she admitted. In fact, the last time was only two weeks ago, after spending much of the previous month in Greece together. I was overwhelmed, then delighted and relieved, wanting to know more, but could see that Katie was struggling in this moment.
When she pleaded with me not to ask her about it, I couldn't press her, and started to hit some of my favorite haunts - Georgio's, Eddie's and such in search of the mystery woman.
Eddie suggested that the redhead might be a woman named Jeanie Lake, and tried to assist by linking me up with his bartender who knew her.
That contact nearly got me a broken back, but in the end, the man said he'd tell Jeanie Lake I wanted to see her.
Spent half the day sleeping, but woke from an awful nightmare. Kate and I were walking through Fleischacker Zoo, and when we came to the elephants, always our favorite, I brought out a rifle - from nowhere - and shot all of them.
There was something about the dream that made me feel it held an answer to my mystery, but was just too elusive.
Shaken by that, and worried that I missed a call, I sought out Dwight, but he said that no one had phoned.
Rang Kate, and asked if she would see me if I promised not to ask her about why I left or anything between then and now. She was dubious, but consented.
Journal continued in next column
The doctor tells Paul the memory loss is not physical
After hypnosis Paul wonders if he's done something bad
Paul is perplexed when Molly mentions meeting in Rio
Alex tells Molly not to give Paul Kate's address
Paul wants to know what happened to Kate
Paul tells Kate about his abnesia
Paul says he needs Kate's help
Paul expresses sorrow for hurting Kate
Paul phones Kate in the night
He asks her if she knows anything about a redhead
"There was nobody after I met you."
Paul asks Giorgio if he'd seen him with a redhead
Eddie only recalls seeing Paul with Kate
Eddie introduces Paul as an old buddy to sullen Maxie
Maxie thinks Paul's come on behalf of Jeannie's husband
Jeannie can't help, but has one useful memory
A startled Paul is greeted warmly by the doctor
The doctor hands an incredulous Paul the diagnosis
Paul tells Kate the redhead was never her rival
Kate says she never could have told him
Monday, December 6
Went into the office to see Marcella, and she asked what weird and wonderful thing I needed her to do today. When I said that I couldn't remember anything of the last eight months, she brought out a volume from her office safe, and handed it to me.
Inside, from April 1 to November 25 - the day I'd apparently left Athens for Davos, including the name of my hotel there - was an entire record of everything I'd done - and everywhere I'd been - day by day, with very few blank.
Not just the addresses and phone numbers of where I'd stayed, but those of countless people I'd met along the way. Flight schedules, the lot.
Also substantial financial information - and what jumped out to me the most - besides my ever-dwindling capital - was the fact that I'd sold the Abel Leader. My heart sank.
I started to read the side notes made by Marcella from conversations - running commentaries about individuals and places. It would have taken me a day or more to read through it all.
Skimming along I saw “evidence” of all the things Dr. Werner had picked from my subconscious - the dive at Acapulco (plus a sad tale of two young fugitives there being gunned down), the murder charge in a place called Pine Grove, even the incident involving Castro on my way to break bread with John Kenneth Galbraith!
It still seemed so impossible, but the detail was amazing. I even saw the name Nicole Longet, but nothing about her rang a bell.
However, to my initial question about why I went away, Marcella had no answers. She suggested that I should try my “Paris apartment” where I kept my journal pages. My Paris apartment?? That has to be the best lead yet!
As we were speaking, the mail came in, and there was a letter from my aunt. I tore it open, feeling instinctively that there had to be something in it. Alma's handwriting had become almost illegible, and the content was only about personal activities and Almeria gossip.
My eyebrows raised when she said that Rosintha Mercedes was now dating Tony Oliviera. I'd thought she was married to that weirdo Robbie Fielding. But there was nothing in Alma's letter to give any clue to my circumstances.
Marcella said that she was about to post all my overseas Christmas cards, and had enclosed the notes I'd sent to everyone inside. I looked at the stack of cards, saddened that I was unfamiliar with the names of all these people who apparently meant so much to me.
Brought the book with me back here to Dwight's, and keep hoping for the phone call about meeting Jeanie Lake, as I leaf through the fascinating content.
Kate was prominent through the latter months, and in addition to the time in Greece she'd mentioned, I saw that we were together in the Bahamas and Seychelles in August.
In the wonderful time we'd spent yesterday, she hadn't said a word about that, though admittedly, I'd kept my promise not to discuss such things.
Of course, Molly had been all wrong in her well-meaning advice. Unaware that we were back together, she'd dreamt up a behavioral cocktail for me that caused Kate to also act with equal stiffness on that first meeting at her new apartment.
I can't understand why she remains reluctant to talk about my leaving. Can it really be that she doesn't know the reason? Nevertheless, grand and daring a lifestyle as Marcella's book describes, I'd be contented just to be with Kate, and starting our life as a married couple here in San Francisco.
Journal continued in next column
When Paul wakes in a Swiss hospital after a toboggan accident, he has lost the memory of his past six months, believing himself to be in San Francisco with his most recent recollection to be saying goodbye to his fiancée Kate Pierce.
The psychiatrist who works with him says the amnesia is not of physical origin, and Paul's mind used the accident to forget something he didn't want to remember. When put under hypnosis, he only reveals that he has much to do and little time.
Learning that he's been racing cars and sky diving. Paul wonders if he's been trying to find a fun way to commit suicide, and if he might have a guilty secret.
Considering the possibility, he declares, “I've always thought of myself as honest, clean, thrifty, brave, reverent, but maybe I was wrong.” The doctor advises returning to San Francisco for the answer, and also to check with his physician, but Paul says he doesn't have one, having never been sick a day in his life. As a parting word, the psychiatrist tells Paul to be prepared to find out something he'd rather not know.
So Paul flies back to San Francisco to find Kate, but she's left her apartment, and there's no number listed for her. When he goes to her father's home, it's been sold, but he locates her sister Molly in the phone book, and arrives at her home with a party going on.
Molly immediately baffles him, mentioning their being together in Rio de Janeiro, and he is shocked to learn that her father's been killed. Flashbacks start appearing in his mind. When Molly questions Paul's not remembering, he glosses it off as part of memory loss after a tobogganing accident.
When he asks Molly for Kate's phone number, not only is she reluctant to give it to him, but another guest, Alex Ryder, an old friend of Paul's, a bit inebriated at the moment, speaks of Paul wiping his shoes on everyone when he left, tells Molly not to give Paul Kate's address, implying that Paul would like to put Kate in the hospital again.
“What are you talking about?” Paul questions Alex with intensity, then asks Molly what he means. She says that Kate had a breakdown, and Paul wants to know why he wasn't contacted. Alex sarcastically interjects his voice into the conversation.
He asks if Paul would have given up the good life and come back to Kate if they had done so, and Molly appears confused and torn, saying that she doesn't know if her sister would want her to give Paul the address.
This last response is one too far, and Paul starts to leave with apologies, but Molly stops him. He suggests ringing her, but she invites him to meet her for breakfast the next day. After sleeping on the matter she gives him Kate's phone number and address, and Paul contacts her.
He goes to see Kate, and they are both extremely casual with one another as well as exceedingly formal. Two individuals engaged to be married who don't even embrace, but act very polite as if Paul had come home from a day at the office in a loveless but amicable marriage.
He tells Kate about his tobogganing accident and the amnesia, how he has lost the last six months of his life. She is solicitous, but speaks to him as if he were a near stranger. Paul says that he needs Kate's help, as her face is the last thing he remembers.
The strain of the experience begins to take its toll on her, and she says that her memory isn't too good either as her tears begin to fall. Paul sits down beside her, and tells Kate how sorry he is, asking what he did to her. She touches Paul's face, and says that she never blamed him, explaining that he'd come to her, saying that something had changed in his life, and he had to go away.
Paul says that he'd expected his memory to return as soon as he landed in San Francisco, talked to his law partner and friends, but this has failed, and he admits painfully, “I can't find my way back.”
Kate says she's not the key, and can't be any help, but Paul says he wants to talk with her about their life together, and she gets up and says, “for me the past is dead. I don't want to look back - and I won't - not even for you.” Then she suggests that he shouldn't try to remember, but just go on from here. “Funny,isn't it” he says, ”you don't want to look back, and I don't want to look anyplace else.” He asks her to have dinner with him, but she clearly is finding just being with him for these necessary minutes difficult enough, especially in the knowledge that the main reason he wants to be with her is to solve his problem.
Then he calls her in the middle of the night from his old law office where he is trying to find some clue to the reason for his disappearance, but unsuccessfully. Again, he asks Kate to have dinner with him. He is quite obviously existing on a different emotional plain than she.
Once again Kate declines, and Paul suggests that they could meet as if they were strangers. She is obviously dubious that such a thing could be possible.
But they do meet for dinner, and try to make light of things, joking about being strangers.
After dancing they talk about his problem, and again she encourages him not to try so hard to find out why he left. But Paul says that he'd rather know the awful truth, still assuming that it may be some malfeasance on his part. “It wiped six months out of my life. It can't be something trivial,” he tells her. Then he says there is one tiny lead, which came from her sister Molly, about a red-haired woman, but nothing more. Paul asks Kate if she knows anything about this woman, but she says that she doesn't, but adds sorrowfully that perhaps he should be with this redhead tonight, that this unknown person might be the key to his past .
Paul takes her remark straight to heart, and says emotionally, “oh no! There was nobody after I met you. I remember up to two days before I left. There was nobody.”
He thinks that he met the redhead right after saying goodbye to Kate. and when Kate suggests that he take her home to go searching the bars where he might have been with this woman, he takes her up on the proposal, quite oblivious of her feelings.
Their evening now over, Kate comments ruefully about her younger sister coming up with the idea.
Paul starts out, and takes himself where his feet - and the flashes going through his mind - lead him, first to a favorite haunt where his old pal Georgio is delighted to see him after so many months. Asked if he'd seen Paul with a red-headed woman, it rings no bell with proprietor Georgio . Bartender Tiger is no help either. Georgio watches Paul leave too soon with concern.
When Paul steps into Eddie's smoke-filled jazz club, Eddie immediately jumps from the piano to greet him, receiving much applause as he walks to the doorway where Paul stands.
He says he thought Paul had given up on San Francisco, and hugs him warmly. But Eddie thinks Paul is putting him on when asked, “when was the last time you saw me?” Paul wonders if Eddie might have seen him with a red-haired woman, but Eddie says that Paul was with Kate the last time he saw him in the establishment, some six or seven months earlier.
But then, though he didn't see Paul himself, Eddie remembers hearing that Paul had been there with Jeannie Lake, a girl singer, and it had been around the time Paul left town.
Paul asks if Eddie knows where he might find this woman, and Eddie takes him over to the bartender, Maxie.When Eddie introduces Paul as an old buddy of his, and also a friend of Jeannie Lake, Maxie says that he knows all of Jeannie's friends, and Paul isn't one of them.Paul admits that he only met her, but says that he'd like to get in touch, but Maxie says he doesn't know where she is.Paul tells him that it's very important, but the hostile Maxie walks away, saying he can't help. Eddie tries to explain Maxie's behavior away, saying that he'd sort of adopted Jeannie, acting like a father.
Eddie leaves to play another set, and Paul approaches the unoccupied Maxie again, but only gets a “can't you see I'm busy” in response. So Paul orders a drink from him and assures that he means Jeannie no harm, and knows that she's married.
“You know her husband too?” Maxie asks suspiciously, and though Paul says that he doesn't, Maxie adds, “ask him where she is.”
Paul proffers a number of bills to Maxie, and says, “so, how much will it cost,” but Maxie disregards the bribe, and says the Scotch is a dollar.
Walking away from Eddie's later, Paul suddenly receives a blow from behind knocking him to the ground.
It is Maxie, threatening to break his neck. Paul offers his wallet, but Maxie just tells him to stay away from Jeannie Lake.Paul suddenly jolts Maxie with his elbow, and then gets an upper hand. Maxie concedes immediately, and Paul threatens him with an assault charge.Maxie believes Paul has come on behalf of Jeannie's husband who beat her, and doesn't believe Paul's denials. Paul tells Maxie to ring her about him. “Why should I?” he asks.
Paul replies, because an assault charge would cause Maxie to lose his union card.
Paul meets Jeannie, and asks where they met. She tells him how distressed he was when he walked into a bar where she was drinking, but that he listened to all her troubles, but never revealed his own, even though she'd urged him to. She says that he saved her life that night, and gave her the strength to leave her violent husband. Though she couldn't help him, he says, at least he now knows he's at the end of the road.
Paul is about to drive away when Jeannie rushes out to his car, having remembered something - that in transit to a club, Paul had suddenly told the cab driver to stop in front of the Schaeffer Building, and after he had looked at it, his entire mood changed.
Paul drives to the Schaeffer Building, goes in, and lets his subconscious take him where it leads - to the office of Dr. Mason who greets Paul warmly, and asks how he is. Paul tells him about the accident, , and as the doctor asks him some questions about it,
No longer able to go one, Paul suddenly declares, “doctor, I don't know you,” and says that the last six months of his life have been blacked out, but that a tip had led him to the building, and he didn't even know how he'd ended up in this office. At first, Dr. Mason is stunned, then says that, realizing that Paul didn't remember what he'd told him six months earlier, he considered not revealing the information again. But he felt he had to, because Paul would eventually learn the truth from others. Dr. Mason says that, planning to marry, Paul had a medical examination for the insurance company which revealed a rare medical condition.
He'd come to Dr. Mason for confirmation tests. The doctor hands a folder to Paul, and says, “I had to tell you what's in that folder.” Paul studies it in shock as all the blanks in his memory return.
Having become all too aware of his fate, Paul asks Kate, “you knew all the time. Why didn't you tell me?” She goes to him, and they embrace. He says that he found his missing six months and he found the red head. “But she wasn't your rival at all.” He says that it was the diagnosis he was trying to put out of his mind, and asks her again why she didn't tell him
Kate became aware of Paul's diagnosis when his doctor heard about her breakdown, their physicians communicating, and deciding that the information would help her. But Paul admits that he knows now, he should have told her himself. She says that she couldn't bring herself to telling him the truth when he came back. She hoped he'd never find out, but understands that he must now leave again. And Paul responds, “It's a different kind of goodbye now, isn't it?”
Seeing him off at the airport she lives with the hope that a cure will bring them together again.
Tuesday, December 7
It's taken me some while to come to terms with what I learned yesterday, and sitting here in one of Gene Mason's rooms, waiting for the next round of tests, I'm trying to put it all together - without thinking about things too much.
My memory is back, but when I read the last lines written in this journal, the pain runs almost too deep to breathe.
Maybe I could have gone on - as Katie and I dreamed that night at my grandmother's house - happy for what ever months are left - instead of constantly living under this dark cloud, and pretending it's not going to rain.
While Jeanie Lake knew nothing, she pointed me to the Sheaffer Building, and from its portals, my footsteps took me the rest of the way to this office.
Dr. Mason actually thought that I'd come for my scheduled early December check up, but I was in no shape for anything, and set it up for today.
It was like finding out all over again. The same horror, but this time I had Katie to run to instead of away from. We went to her old apartment, and she said that she was moving back in, but it was difficult to find consolation.
Katie had lived on the hope that I wouldn't rediscover the truth, but said that she needed her psychiatrist's advice on how to deal with me, and it had been all cold turkey when we met on Friday.
We tried to laugh at our behavior with one another, but any mirth was feeble at best. It's all pain today. Not to mention the physical kind I'm experiencing here in Dr. Mason's office.
Subjected myself to all his tests, and told him that I'd be back in San Francisco at Christmas, if he had anything to tell me. Meanwhile, there was racing to do, but I'm first going to see Julie Foster in San Diego.
Doubting that he would share any privileged information, Mason surprised me by saying that she was holding her own - in other words, no bad news.
Before I took my poor battered, picked and prodded body out of the office, Gene asked me if I might see another of his patients, and we agreed to discuss the matter at the holidays.
Then he said that he wants to see me once a month from now on. What else would I expect than to leave Mason's on a negative note?
Jo Swerling Jr.
Director of Photography
John L. Russell A.S.C.
Hilton A. Green
John McCartey &
James S. Redd
Carl Crain Jr.
Color by Technicolor
Editorial Dept. Head