From the doorway of her grandmother’s small, ascetic room, Jenna watched the aide prepare her nana for a visit. He propped her up in a semi-upright position, adjusting her head to look forward, and finished up by folding her hands. Turning to Jenna, he nodded, then left the room.
“Hi, Nana, it’s me. It’s Jenna.”
No response. But she hadn’t expected one.
“It’s been a long time since I read Our Perfect World to you. Last night I found a passage I thought you’d like.”
Jenna stared into her grandmother’s blank face, trying as she always did to see some flicker of the woman she had been. In answer to Jenna’s offer to read, her grandmother blinked once. Her way of communicating: one blink for ‘yes,’ two blinks for ‘no.’ At least, that’s what Jenna told herself.
“OK, here goes…Chapter Four. Bliss.”
She read two chapters, her favorite ones, about a happy couple about to have their first child. Jenna had marked the passage about the couple naming the baby. They’d chosen the name Emma. She liked that, and fantasized that her daughter would have the same name. Her mother told her the story about deciding what to name her. ‘Jenna’ had been her grandmother’s choice. She wished she could ask her nana why.
Certain her grandmother was asleep, Jenna left the room and stopped by the nurses’ station to chat with the staff. They were always ready to chat and gossip. Jenna thought they might be a good diversion for her.
“Hey, did you hear there might be fewer death prescriptions granted next year? I wish I could convince my mother to let my nana put her name on the list.”
As she always did, Nurse Becker listened with empathy before she answered. Jenna could see the truth on her face before she said anything.
“You’re forgetting, Jenna, your grandmother can’t get a prescription. Since she’s unable to communicate, there’s no way for the psychiatrist to interview her. I know it’s sad. I think she’d be better off if she could die, but that’s the law.”
Jenna’s eyes filled with tears of frustration. Nurse Becker tried to hug her, but Jenna shook her off.
Until the government changed the law to include non-verbal replies, her grandmother was stuck in a loophole. She knew that. But hearing it from someone as kind as Nurse Becker made it hurt more somehow.
“I’m sorry, Jenna. We all feel for your grandmother. Please believe me, we do whatever we can to keep her comfortable. We bring her to the common room every day so she won’t feel alone. I remember your mother telling us she had a favorite soap opera. Since your grandmother’s admission, she’s never missed an episode. I’m sure she enjoys watching it.”
“But she can communicate! She can blink yes and no! Why doesn’t that count? If I went back in the room and asked her if she wanted to die, I bet she’d blink once. For yes. I know she would.”
“I know, honey,” Nurse Becker said. “But it’s the law.”
∞
Another year passed without a successful mortality serum. Finally, Vivian made the decision to accept defeat and tell her superiors her time was being wasted. She wanted to concentrate on something else and vanquish the feeling of failure that constantly surrounded her. Realizing the irony in the statement ‘a waste of time,’ she still felt moving on would be the best decision for her.
After arguing her point for several hours, she couldn’t convince her superiors at the lab to release her from the experiment. They gave her an ultimatum: keep working on the serum or leave. So she went back to her lab to think about her future.
Vivian looked through the failed experiments, each one a monument to her disappointment. She thought about the wasted years, the futility of her efforts. Bit by bit, her confidence left her. Resisting the urge to wreck her lab, she made another decision. It was time to do something else with her life. She had no idea what, but deciding to leave gave her some relief.
As she exited her second home of eighty-six years, she turned and waved good-bye to Keri the coffee machine.
∞
Riding the subway home, Vivian watched the immortals surrounding her. These people weren’t young and beautiful. They looked like an average cross-section of society. All sorts were represented: young, old, fat, skinny, beautiful, ugly. The only thing they had in common was their inability to die a natural death.
Walking the few blocks to her home, Vivian reflected on her decision to quit her life’s work. She couldn’t change her mind. Just this one time, she would trust her instincts. She worried about disappointing Jenna, but knew her daughter would respect her decision.
Inside the empty house, Vivian sat in the dining room and stared out the window. Out of habit, she swiped the screen on her tablet. Pages of data sped past, unseen by the scientist.
Looking skyward, she imagined the birds that used to fly by. The bird feeder in her backyard was completely hidden, overgrown with ivy. The Event hadn’t affected plants. They continued their cycle of life and death, taunting Vivian.
After a while, Jenna came home from walking Tujin and came over to her mother, who was still sitting motionless next to the window.
“What’s wrong, Mom?”
No response.
“Mom?”
Vivian turned to Jenna, not bothering to smile. She placed her tablet on the table as she stared at her daughter. They looked at each other for a few moments, neither of them wanting to break eye contact.
“I quit. I can’t keep going back to the lab to fail. I’m tired, Jenna.”
Jenna was silent for a minute. Then she sat at her mother’s feet and placed her head on Vivian’s lap.
“It’s okay, Mom. You tried. You tried for so long. Please don’t be sad.”
Tujin walked over to them, barking for attention. His timing was perfect, and they both burst into giggles. Jenna scratched Tujin’s head, and it became obvious to Vivian that she wanted to say something.
Finally, she said, “I saw Nana yesterday.”
“You visited her without me? Have you done that before?” Vivian was surprised.
“Mom, I may look like a little girl, but I’m a hundred and three years old. I can find my way to her place no problem.”
“I know, I just…I didn’t know you visited her on your own. I’m happy you did. Or do. How often do you see her?”
“I try to go once a week and read to her. She seems to enjoy it, or at least I think she does. I hope she does.”
Vivian decided it was time for her to see her mother. Once a month wasn’t enough. She’d let her work get in the way of being a good daughter—of doing what needed to be done. Determined to make more changes in her life, Vivian planned what to do next. There were things to take care of before she could visit her mother.
She needed to stop by her lab.
∞
Back on the subway, Vivian stopped fighting her tears. She let the frustration of the last few decades slide down her face. Not sure how Jenna would feel about what she planned, she waited impatiently for her stop. As soon as the doors opened she walked out of the station and headed to her lab to prepare.
Knowing her mother wasn’t the only person in the world who was suffering renewed Vivian’s desire to continue with her work. It might take years before anyone came up with a solution, but she couldn’t stop. Jenna needed to know what it was like to physically become an adult, have a family, and watch her hair go gray.
With that knowledge came the realization that she couldn’t let her mother suffer any longer. She sent emails informing her superiors of her decision to go on with her research.
Then she walked to the supply closet and took what she needed for tomorrow’s visit to the Eternal Sunshine Care Facility.
∞
Vivian and Jenna walked through the doors of the care home. Checking in at the nurses’ station, Vivian nodded at the staff and inquired about her mother.
“No change, Dr. Toujours.”
“We want to have a nice long visit with her. Would you please tell her aide not to distur
b us? I know she’ll miss her show today, but that’s okay. Just don’t come into her room. We’d like some private time with her.”
The walk to the end of the hall gave Vivian time to think about her mother. The majority of her memories were happy. Stopping outside Room 42, she paused. Breathing in deeply, she knocked, then entered.
As she approached the bed, Vivian looked into her mother’s watery eyes, attempting to see into her mind. She touched her hand, stroking the top of it as she smiled, but got no response. Vivian leaned in to kiss her mother’s forehead, lingering a moment to remember the woman who no longer existed.
Jenna hung back, unable to approach her nana yet.
“Jenna tells me you like it when she reads to you. I never knew she visited you without me. I’ve been so distracted with my work, I didn’t notice. I’m sorry, Mom. I thought I’d do that for you today.”
Vivian opened her bag, withdrawing a rare paperback copy of one of her favorite books, hoping her mother would enjoy listening to it. The book, a gift from her mother for her thirteenth birthday. Bringing it to her nose, she inhaled the musty smell. Then Vivian leaned over her mother, placing the book near her face.
“Breathe in, Mom. Remember what was. Remember my joy when you gave this to me.”
Her mother blinked once.
For the next hour, Vivian read to her mother, stroking her hair, stopping every few pages to look at her mother’s frozen profile. Jenna pulled a chair to the other side of the bed and held her nana’s hand.
Pausing, Vivian tore a page out of the book. She folded it and tucked it into a pocket in her mother’s nightgown. Quoting a line from that page, she whispered:
And then there stole into my fancy, like a rich musical note, the thought of what sweet rest there must be in the grave.
Her mother blinked.
“I’m leaving Edgar Allen Poe to keep you company. Goodbye, Mommy. I love you.”
“Goodbye, Nana,” Jenna said softly. “I’ll miss you. Be happy.”
Then Jenna turned away, not able to watch.
Dr. Vivian Toujours injected her mother in the arm, pushing the plunger filled with sweet release. Janice’s body caved into itself, freeing the tortured person within. One last breath and it was over.
Ninety-five years of hell were over.
“What will you do now, Mom?” Jenna asked.
Vivian turned to her daughter, who still seemed to be eight years old. Years ago, she had wanted Jenna to remain small forever, to cuddle with her, to depend on her. Part of that was still true—Jenna did still depend on her.
So did a lot of other people.
“Keep working,” Vivian said. “I’m going to keep working.”
I hope you enjoyed reading “Room 42”. If so, please consider leaving a review.
Thank you very much.
Cheers!
D.K. Cassidy
I scribble daily in various genres including Science Fiction, Magical Realism, Urban Gothic, and Literary Fiction. My goal? Messing with your mind by transforming the voices in my head into odd stories.
Follow me at: www.dkcassidy.com
Amazon: amazon.com/author/dkcassidy
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