The Adults in the Room

by Jeffrey Mechling

  Tim was somewhat taken back by Dr. Justice’s familiarity. “Ah, fine, doctor. And you?” he managed.

  “I am fine, sir. It’s always a fine day here in lovely Santo Domingo, and I am very much hoping that you will be joining us soon.”

  Tim was once again taken aback by the doctor’s enthusiasm. “Well, sir...” Tim could hear the nervousness in his own voice. “Well, that’s just it. I mean, I’m not sure why I’m coming down. I mean, I only really wanted some dental implants.”

  Dr. Justice cut Tim off. “Dental implants, Mr. Hall? I am offering you another 80 years of life, and you’re talking about dental implants?”

  Dr. Justice went on to explain the advanced algorithm that had been used to cull Tim from the thousands of applicants who’d applied to the CBSCRC program. The use of the term “advanced algorithm” impressed Tim, since he was a big believer in computer science. Humans had natural biases, after all, and although some computer programmers included their biases in their programing, Tim trusted computers a lot more.

  After getting off the phone, he began to research stem cells again. Tim was still researching and making notes when the buzzer in his condo sounded. He glanced at his watch to see that it was 11:30 at night. Usually, any ringing at this time of night would just be some homeless person wandering the streets. He stood and made his way to the intercom, then pushed a button and said, “May I help you?

  “Hey, let me the hell up. I’m freezing my butt off”, came the unmistakable voice of his maybe-girlfriend, Mary Ann Layback.

  Tim looked around to see if there was anything lying about that Mary Ann could use to make fun of him, but the three knocks on his door came quicker than he expected.

  Tim opened the door, and there she was. Black jeans, black sweater, black leather jacket, and a black watch cap on her head. She carried two bottles of wine.

  “For what do I owe the pleasure—” Tim started to ask.

  He didn’t get the rest of his sentence out before Mary Ann had placed the two wine bottles on the table and began to kiss him. Mary Ann soon had her hat, jacket, and sweater off and began to pull off Tim’s sweatshirt as well.

  “Do you have a place where you want to do this, or shall we just do it right here on your carpet?” Mary Ann looked at the floor as she said this.

  Tim motioned to the bedroom.

  Tim had a large double bed with no head or foot boards. Once they reached the bedroom, Mary Ann playfully pushed Tim onto the bed and began to remove her jeans. Tim was not sure if he should help remove any of Mary Ann’s clothing, since she appeared to be performing a somewhat modified striptease. Mary Ann’s pants were now off, revealing that she was wearing a tiny black thong. She reached behind her back and undid her bra, which she threw at Tim.

  Mary Ann then pulled Tim’s sweatpants off, got down to her knees, and began to go down on him. Tim just about lost it at that point, but he held off until Mary Ann got on top of him and managed to turn around, so her ass was facing his chest. She began to move her hips up and down and around. She raised up and took Tim’s penis in her hand and placed it close to her ass, but then reinserted it in her vagina. When she began to repeat the move, Tim could no longer hold on and found himself ejaculating all over the place.

  Mary Ann was now lying on top of Tim, who was sweating. Mary Ann blew on Tim’s forehead to cool him off. No woman had done that to him for years, Tim thought to himself.

  Mary Ann got off and went into Tim’s bathroom, coming back with a warm washcloth that she used to clean Tim’s genitals. After that, she laid back down next to Tim, who turned and kissed her.

  “Hey, Mary Ann,” Tim said as he placed his hand on her cheek.

  “Hey, Tim,” Mary Ann answered softly.

  The two fell asleep in each other’s arms.

  Tim and Mary Ann both woke up at 7 a.m. and made love again. This time, it was in a more traditional way, with Tim on top. Tim seemed to orgasm at about the same time as Mary Ann. He usually couldn’t tell if a woman did or did not orgasm, but he no longer worried about it.

  He was in the kitchen making scrambled eggs when Mary Ann asked if she could check her email. He told her sure, not wondering why Mary Ann didn’t just check her email on her phone.

  Mary Ann was now standing in the doorway of the kitchen. She was wearing one of Tim’s suit shirts, which just about covered her privates. “So, are you going to go to this stem cell place?” she wondered. “They sound like they really want you to come down there.”

  Tim had forgotten that he had left his email open with all of the information about stem cells and the CBSCRC.

  “Is this something you will be making fun of me for doing in front of everyone at the Goose?” he wondered. He really wanted to address the subject of Mary Ann acting mean towards him.

  “Hey, I’m sorry I hurt your feelings,” Mary Ann said defensively, “but a couple of the guys already suspected that we went out, and I just can’t have those clowns know we’re lovers. You won’t be able to come in there anymore because they’ll all accuse me of giving you preferential treatment, and I just don’t need to hear some ‘your boyfriend this, your boyfriend that’ kind of thing.”

  Tim felt that Mary Ann was making way too big of a deal about the entire subject and could also see how upset the conversation was making her. He placed three strips of bacon next to her eggs and put the plate on the table, then kissed Mary Ann on her forehead.

  “Is that what we are now,” Tim asked, “lovers?”

  Mary Ann kissed him back, on the lips this time. “Well, I guess—but it all depends on how good your eggs are.”

  Tim and Mary Ann sat and ate in silence after that until she returned to the subject of stem cells. “You didn’t answer my question about if you’re going to this place in the Dominican Republic.”

  “I don’t know, Mary Ann. I mean, it sounds interesting, and I sure don’t have anything better to do.” Tim took a long pause, then added, “I used to have a life, and it was not as a clerk for the Social Security Administration—but I can’t really tell you about any of that.”

  “Because you were some kind of top-secret spy?” Mary Ann remarked somewhat sarcastically

  Tim wished again that he had never told anyone that he had worked for the CIA. The only reason he had mentioned it in the first place was to settle an argument someone was having at the Blue Goose. Tim simply mentioned that he had worked at the CIA and everyone in the bar that night stopped talking and starred at him.

  “Hey look, James Bond is in the room” someone said with a laugh and he had not been able to live down his statement since. This was an old, former Polish neighborhood of West Baltimore and everyone was thought to be a “bull shit artist”. Why would any CIA type spies live there they wondered, and the patrons of the Blue Goose had a point? Even Tim was not sure why he was living there.

  “Well yes, that is part of it” Tim confessed to Mary Ann “But since the accident, there are some very large gaps in my memory, and no one will fill them in for me.”

  “OK, cool down, cowboy.” Mary Ann reached over to hold Tim’s hand.

  “I’m sorry, Mary Ann, but I just seem to live from one day to the next, and it’s becoming exhausting.” Tim took Mary Ann’s other hand in his own. “You are the best thing that’s happened to me in years, but it’s not fair for me to make any of this your problem.”

  “So, what are you going to do, Tim?”

  Getting lost in the deep brown of Mary Ann’s eyes, Tim leaned over to kiss her again. “I don’t know, but I’ll keep you in the loop.”

  They both laughed at that and started to make love once again. Tim fell back to sleep afterwards, but he woke as Mary Ann was getting dressed to leave.

  “I’ve got to go and open up the Goose. I’m already late,” Mary Ann explained. She kissed Tim on his forehead.

  “Maybe see you later?” Tim asked.

  “Maybe. You’ll just have to wait and find out,” Mary Ann replied. With that, she turned
to the door and was gone.

  After Mary Ann had left, Tim got up and walked to his computer. He opened his emails with the CBSCRC and started a new one.

  “Hi, I am interested in receiving treatments with stem cells,” he wrote. “I am available any time. Please email the details so I can make travel arrangements. Regards, Timothy Hall.”

  Tim sent the email and went back to bed, thinking about his night with Mary Ann.

  Chapter 6

  For the next two weeks, Tim was busy making plans for his trip to the Dominican Republic and saw little of Mary Ann. He did go to the Goose, but Mary Ann was doing her usual “you’re just another customer” routine.

  Tim was getting better at not paying attention to her. Tim was becoming so good at not paying attention to Mary Ann, in fact, that he was also missing the loving looks she would occasionally send his way. Mary Ann even sent him a text asking if he still liked her, which Tim responded to with three red hearts.

  But Tim’s mind was on his trip.

  The night before Tim’s flight, Mary Ann came over with a pizza. She made Tim give her his contact information at the CBSCRC, then helped him pack and spent the night with him. In the morning, Mary Ann made sure he was in a cab headed to BWI, kissed him goodbye, and watched him drive away.

  Tim watched as they turned the corner and suddenly wondered if he was making the right decision. Maybe he should just try to get Mary Ann out of that bar so that they could live out their lives together—but he wondered if Mary Ann would ever consider giving up her independence to be with him. Perhaps Tim should just see this stem cell treatment through and decide about Mary Ann when he returned. Sure, that made sense...or he hoped it did, at least.

  Tim’s flight to Santo Domingo from Miami was uneventful (as all of Tim’s airplane flights had been), and two large and smiling Dominican men met him as he exited through customs. One held a sign that read, “Mr. Timothy Hall, Baltimore, MD.”

  “Are you Mr. Hall?” the man with the sign asked.

  Tim just nodded.

  “From Baltimore, Maryland?”

  Tim mumbled, “Yes,” and began to look around the small but very busy airport.

  “Welcome, sir. How was your flight? May we take your luggage?”

  Before Tim could answer, the man took Tim’s bag, saying, “Please, sir, this way.”

  Tim followed the man with his bag and noticed the other man falling into step directly behind him.

  There was something going on out in front of the airport, perhaps a protest of some kind. There were police and maybe soldiers all around, but Tim’s escorts paid this little mind and continued to walk through the crowd.

  They stopped at a black SUV that was waiting in the parking lot. There was a third man in the driver’s seat. The man with Tim’s bag sat next to the driver, while the big man sat next to Tim.

  “I have been to Baltimore. It’s a beautiful city,” the man said to Tim.

  Tim ignored the comment and continued to observe the protest. Two soldiers were dragging a screaming woman from the airport parking lot. “What’s going on here?” he asked.

  “They are just having a fight,” the big man answered with a smile.

  Tim decided to drop the matter.

  The SUV traveled almost a quarter of a mile through lush flowers and exotic trees before it reached the main entrance to the CBSCRC, which looked more like a resort than a hospital or clinic. The car took one loop around the circular driveway and stopped at the front.

  At that point, another smiling man stepped forward and opened Tim’s door. “Mr. Tim?” he asked.

  Tim looked up and replied sleepily, “Yeah, my name is Tim...”

  The man cut him off. “Mr. Tim, my name is Amin, and I will be your guide as you embark on your new journey.”

  At first, Tim had thought that Amin was another Dominican man, yet he was somewhat smaller, and his accent did not sound as French. More Middle Eastern or Pakistani? Tim wondered how he would even know what nationality someone was, anyway.

  “Come,” Amin said. “The doctor would like to see you right away.”

  Before Tim could say another word, he was led to an elevator, taken one flight up, and escorted into the waiting room of Dr. Richard Justice. Amin led Tim to a chair and disappeared through a door.

  The same door opened a minute later, and an attractive nurse with shoulder length red hair appeared. “Tim? I’m Jennifer, Dr. Justice’s nurse. If you will come with me, we can take some blood.”

  Tim followed Nurse Jennifer down a short hallway and into a room with a large chair with straps on either side of the arms. Nurse Jennifer smiled. “This is my chair of torture. Please take a seat.”

  Somehow, Tim found her request a little sexy and did not think twice about sitting in a chair that included restraints.

  Nurse Jennifer looked at both of Tim’s arms before deciding on the left one, then looped a Velcro strap around it. Next, she picked up the largest needle Tim had ever seen in his life, softly saying, “If you’re afraid of needles, I suggest you look the other way.”

  Tim closed his eyes, but he still felt Nurse Jennifer stick needles in his arm several times in different places. Every so often, Nurse Jennifer would reassure Tim that she was almost finished, yet the blood-taking seemed to last forever.

  Finally, after twenty minutes or so, Nurse Jennifer cheerfully remarked, “All done.”

  Tim glanced over at his arm and counted seven bandages. “What the fuck?” he said, but Nurse Jennifer had already left the room.

  Amin was now standing in the doorway, saying, “Dr. Justice would like to see you now.”

  Amin led Tim into a large office with a window overlooking the water. Tim had no clue what water he was looking at, since he hadn’t bothered to look at any maps, but he assumed it had to be some part of the Atlantic.

  There was a knock on the door, and a stout man in his 50s entered the room and extended his hand. “Richard Justice at your service, Mr. Hall.”

  The doctor sat behind his desk and opened a file, which Tim imagined to be his own. They sat in silence, minutes passing before the doctor spoke again.

  “Mr. Hall, you are 70 years old?”

  “I’m in my late 50s.”

  Doctor Justice didn’t seem to hear Tim. “And I would say that you have probably five more years to live. Would you agree with that, Mr. Hall?”

  Tim was shocked to hear such a prognosis. “How the hell can you make that prediction? I’ve only been here an hour.”

  Dr. Justice held up his hand for Tim to stop. “Calm down, Tim,” he said, taking a more personal tone. “I have in front of me your medical records for the last 10 years. Without going into great detail, that is how it looks to me. I assure you; I have been doing this for a very long time.”

  The doctor pulled a paper out of Tim’s file and began to read. “For example, your most recent blood work, the blood you provided to your dental implant clinic, shows me a number of markers that indicate that you will have a stroke before you are 70. Your body is really not programmed to live much beyond 80 years. That’s a fact...but perhaps we can change it.”

  Tim sat back, astounded. How the hell had these people gotten his medical records? Wasn’t that illegal? But he was in the Dominican Republic now, where American laws did not apply, he remembered.

  “Mr. Hall, we feel that we have discovered a process using stem cells that will completely rejuvenate your cell structure. At a certain age, we no longer produce new cells, which is why we age. However, if the human body could continue to grow new cells, well, sir, we could become immortal.”

  Tim had been looking down at the floor, but now looked up to see Dr. Justice standing by the window, staring out to the ocean. “You were chosen out of thousands, Mr. Hall, because your body is at the correct stage to begin such a treatment,” he continued. “So, it is we who need your help. Will you help us?”

  Tim got up and joined the doctor at the window. “Now look, doctor, I came down h
ere with my life savings of $20,000. After deducting my airfare, $17,500 is what I have left. The price of immortality would be somewhat higher than that, would you not agree?”

  Dr. Justice turned and placed his hand on Tim’s shoulder. “Tim, I am a doctor and scientist. I am not seeking to make a fortune.”

  The doctor returned to his desk and sat down. “However, every bit of funding helps our research, so your $17,500 donation is greatly appreciated.”

  Amin, Tim’s guide, suddenly appeared at the door. “Amin will make sure that your donation is successfully transferred from your bank in Baltimore, Mr. Hall,” the doctor added. “At that point, we can begin your treatment.”

  Dr. Justice turned and slipped through the door.

  Amin turned to Tim. “Mr. Tim, would you follow me to my office?”

  Tim stared at the door the doctor had left by, then followed Amin downstairs.

  Later, Tim laid back on his bed in the oceanfront room the CBSCRC had given him and logged into his bank account from his smartphone. Gone was his $17,500 left in savings, and only $575 remained in his checking account. They certainly didn’t waste any time, did they?

  Tim did have a lot more money in other accounts, but he certainly was not going to let anyone at the CBSCRC know about it. Tim also thought that it was strange that he observed no other patients on the premises.

  There was a TV in his room and a phone, chairs, table, and a small desk like any hotel room would have, plus a balcony looking out to the ocean. Tim also had access to the beach, but little else. Anytime Tim attempted to wander around the facility, he was stopped by one of the friendly Dominican men, who directed Tim back to his room. It had been two days since his meeting with Dr. Justice, and Tim was beginning to become suspicious. Was this all just some elaborate scam to get a hold of his lousy $17,000?

  A soft knock sounded on his door all of a sudden, and Amin entered Tim’s room. “Mr. Tim? We are ready to begin your procedure.”