Prologue

            Black. Something people associate with nightfall, oblivion, and even death. It’s really not a color; it’s more like a state of mind. It was my state of mind for quite a long time, until I heard the beat of the heart monitor beside my hospital bed and realized where I was. It was quite a disoriented feeling, waking up and not having a clue as to who you are and what just happened to you.

            I tried to ask, tried to speak, tried to move some part of my body so that someone would notice I was alive, but nothing seemed to work. I tried again, and this time my toe managed to move. Slowly I was getting my range of motion back, but still no one came to check on me.

            I began to wonder what was taking so long and why anyone would leave me along in my condition. I finally decided that I really wasn’t a priority and that someone would come around some time later that day to explain to me what was going on and why I felt like shit. I didn’t even know what was wrong with me. I just knew that my arm was in a sling, my leg was in a cast, and there was something shoved down my throat.

            As my mind began to wander from one thing to another, my ears managed to pick up a little something from a TV that was on in another room. It said something about a man named Daniel Jones was finally found a month after being kidnapped and held for ransom. I don’t know why they were making such a big deal over it. Who was this guy anyway, and why was he getting the spotlight?

            I was about to tune out when I heard that he was part of the band Savage Garden. ‘Savage Garden?’ I thought to myself. That name rang a familiar bell, one that would keep ringing until a nurse finally walked into my room carrying a clipboard. She nearly jumped back when she realized that I was staring at her and ran out of my room to get a doctor. They came in whispering and pointing at me. Soon, a large crowd of doctors and nurses had gathered in my room.

            I began to wonder what was so special about me. Had I survived some major accident and woken up from a six year coma? Did I have some strange medical problem that they just had to see? I’ll tell you now, I really didn’t like being gawked at and was ready to speak my mind until I realized that thing was still in my throat.

            Finally, the first doctor and nurse had the bright idea as to remove it and let me speak for what seemed like the first time in God knows how long. As I moved my free hand to my throat and gently massaged it, my voice slowly came back. At first it was barely a whisper, but as I became stronger, my voice returned.

            I finally conjured up enough strength to ask, “Who am I?”

            “Uh-oh,” the doctor replied. It was a surreal moment, one that you think could never happen to you. It had to be a joke. A doctor isn’t supposed to say ‘Uh-oh’ around a patient. He began to examine me, my eyes first, then the rest of my face and body.

            “What the hell is going on?” I asked again, this time a little more strongly.

            The doctor moved away from me and began to whisper to his colleagues. I knew something was up when their expressions changed from excited to worried. What the hell was wrong with me? Could I really be that bad off? Would anyone tell me before I died of anxiety?

            The doctor finally pulled himself away from the rest of the staff and stood at the foot of my bed, his expression somber, his eyes cold and unforgiving. Before he had a chance to open his big mouth, a tall, blond haired man and a short red headed woman barged into the room out of breath and panting. The man appeared to be in his mid twenties, maybe thirty at the oldest while the woman had to be no more than twenty, twenty-one. Both had relieved expressions on their faces.

            I looked at them wondering who they were. The man seemed very familiar, almost like someone I might have seen in a dream. I had no idea who the woman was even though she seemed familiar. Maybe I had seen her passing by me on the street. I didn’t know, so I kept my mouth shut and let them do the talking.

            “Daniel! Thank God you’re alive!” the man said in a thick Australian accent.

            ‘So that’s my name,’ I thought. Before I had time to respond, the red head was on top of me, her lips pressed against mine for a long, drawn out kiss that I seriously didn’t enjoy.

            “Oh, Danny! I missed you so much. I thought I was never going to see you again,” she said, loving looking down at me. I was ready to say something when the doctor suddenly pulled her and the other guy away from me. He began to talk to them in whispers, a tone I was really beginning to hate and vowed never to use again for as long as I lived.

            As the doctor was explaining something to the two new comers, their expressions changed from relieved to horrified. The red head even went as far as saying, “No! He can’t! He just can’t!” and started crying.

            I had finally had enough. Conjuring up whatever voice I had left, I finally said, “Will someone please tell me what in bloody hell is going on?”

            The doctor, the nurse, the red head, and the blond guy all looked in my direction as if they had seen a ghost. By now I was fuming and waiting for some kind of a response from them.

            “Well,” the doctor finally said. “Daniel, you have amnesia.”

            “No shit!” I sarcastically replied. “I think I realized that when I woke up not knowing who I was.”

            A roar of laughter came from the other doctors and nurses behind him. I wasn’t all too happy to see that this was funny to them. Here I was, clueless and without an identity, and there they were, laughing their fat asses off at my expense.

            “Will someone tell me what happened?” I added. “How did I get here anyway? And who are you people?”

            The red head began to cry harder as the blond guy wrapped his arms around her to comfort her. He looked at me, hurt and disbelief welling up in his sad, dusky blue eyes. “Daniel, you don’t remember me, your own best friend?” he asked. “It’s me, Darren. We’ve been partners for the last ten years.”

            “I’m gay?” I asked in disbelief.

            “No! I meant we’ve been in a band together for the last ten years. Savage Garden. Don’t you remember?” Darren asked again, his voice earnest.

            I looked at him bewildered. Was I the same Daniel Jones that they had been talking about on TV? Was it really me who had been kidnapped and held for ransom? I didn’t know what to make of it. I just sat in bed, the world spinning around me with no hint of stopping.

            “I think I know someone who might help you link the past and the present,” the doctor said as he started heading out the door past everyone else. “She found you on her ranch. Maybe you might remember her.”

            ‘Oh, great, another person is added to my confusion,’ I thought as I touched my temple with my hand trying to hide my face from all these strangers.

            “Here she is,” the doctor said as he came back into the room followed by a tall, thin, and absolutely beautiful blond woman with shiny brown, almost black eyes. She stared into my eyes and immediately someone inside my head clicked.

            “Camie?” I asked, wondering how that name had formed on my lips. Somehow I knew this woman. She was the missing link that might help bring my past back to my present.

            “Daniel!” she nearly cried, running to my side and wrapping her long, delicate arms around my neck. Her eyes met mine again with an intense, almost unbreakable gaze. As she stared at me, things began to come back almost immediately.

            “Camie,” I whispered, holding her close, not wanting to let her go. “What happened? How did I get here?”

            “I know you don’t remember. It all happened so fast,” she replied, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’ll tell you everything.”