Days' End

by Scott L Collins

  Alastair turned off the television at the end of the story, hoping to avoid any further drag on what had been, up until this latest national news report, a very pleasant day. He quickly showered, brushed his teeth, and climbed into bed with his laptop. Before turning off the light and going to sleep, Alastair enjoyed the very inspiring contents of the memory card Nysa had left for him.

  I believe I have found a way to bring this miserable curse to an end. I just read an article about a sheep named Dolly. I think it may be the only way to end this nightmare I am forced to endure. This idea requires further exploration to determine if it’s feasible, but it gives me hope.

  April 6, Outside Castle Rock, CO

  Nysa was awakened from her sleep at 1:16 A.M. with the news that Jacqueline had been taken to the medical wing with vaginal bleeding. As she was being transported on a gurney to the medical facilities, an overhead light had burst, raining glass down on Jacqueline and the nurse who had been pushing the bed. Jacqueline was fine, but the nurse had suffered multiple small lacerations to the top of her head where the glass had landed. The nurse remained for medical treatment while someone else pushed Jacqueline’s hospital bed to her room. There they moved her into a different bed, making sure there was no broken glass in her gowns, and completed their examinations. The doctor had come in a short while later with the bad news.

  Jacqueline had taken the news of her miscarriage especially hard. Nysa had spent the night and morning with her, offering a shoulder to cry on and lending an ear when the young woman wanted to talk. She alternated back and forth between the two roles as Jacqueline would stop crying and talk about life in her hometown, only to burst into tears again. Nysa listened patiently. It was difficult to see the woman in anguish, and Nysa was beginning to see her not only as another participant in the experiment, but as a young woman who needed a friend. Nysa knew that Jacqueline had the same restrictions as all others did in regards to contact with the outside world, so who else could she share her pain with? All night they discussed not only the miscarriage, but also Jacqueline’s life.

  According to Jacqueline, life in a small town was not always easier than in a big city. You had no privacy in a small town. Jacqueline had been the captain of the cheerleading squad at her high school and also daughter of the mayor. Everyone knew who she was, what she was doing, and when. That fact had irritated her to no end. Hadn’t those people had a life of their own? Why had they always put their noses into her business? Everyone was always talking about the charm of living in a small town, but Jacqueline had been disgusted by the constant intrusions into the most intimate details of her life. Still, she’d put on a smiling face when she’d gone about town and had done her best to fit in.

  Jacqueline’s father had never been a warm and tender man, but he had also never been cruel or violent. That changed when, at the age of fifteen, she had been caught smoking marijuana with her boyfriend at the park after school. Her father had gotten drunk that night, and as he ranted and raved about how she had embarrassed the family and ruined his political career, he struck and kicked her repeatedly. She did her best to fend off the onslaught of blows. The last thing she remembered was cowering in the corner of her bedroom trying to protect herself as the fists and feet rained down on her body. A particularly well placed kick had broken three ribs. She had passed out from the excruciating pain.

  The next day she had learned the true extent of her injuries. Her father had broken her cheekbone, the ulna in her right arm, and three ribs. Worst of all, he had caused irreparable damage to her fallopian tubes with an especially violent kick to her lower abdomen. He had been arrested that evening and was ultimately sentenced to ten years in prison for assault and battery.

  Jacqueline had not visited or corresponded with him even once. Letters came in the mail but were immediately torn up and thrown into the trash. Her family had begged her to forgive him. They pleaded that he had made a mistake, was sorry for what he had done, and was serving his punishment. Jacqueline ignored them all and went on with her life the best she could, but she was constantly faced with staring people or insensitive remarks about her experience. “It’s none of your business!” she had wanted to shout, but she had kept quiet about her father and that dreadful night.

  Soon it became too much for her. She moved north to live with an aunt on her mother’s side, the only one who had understood and agreed with Jacqueline’s desire to completely cut her father out of her life.

  Nysa sat and listened, horrified at the thought of being beaten unconsciousness by your own father one day, and finding out the next that he had also taken away your ability to ever bear a child. She listened as Jacqueline spoke of her healing process, moving from a general distrust and dislike of men in general to the despair over her infertility and then her eventual acceptance and decision to look forward to good times rather than back to the bad.

  Jacqueline had worked hard and finished high school early. Her good grades had earned her a full scholarship to Notre Dame. She jumped at the chance to move out on her own and leave some memories behind. She had majored in Theology, immersing herself in her studies.

  The healing process continued through her college years. Although she did not date, she acquired a few male friends and took on a teaching assistant role for one of her professors. With Professor Uda’s guidance and assistance, Jacqueline gained admission to the Theological Studies graduate program to advance her knowledge. She continued working closely with the professor while completing her Master’s degree, and as he slowly chipped away at her defenses she revealed more and more of her past to him. She was shocked when one day she realized he knew almost everything about her. She had told him of her childhood, the loss of that childhood at the hands and feet of her father, and her subsequent distrust of all things male. This last bit of information, she remembered, had given him a sympathetic chuckle.

  At the end of the fall quarter of her last year, Professor Uda had offered her an opportunity to complete her remaining requirements by meeting with a representative of a colleague. She had agreed. At the meeting with Mr. Stevens, she had been offered her Master’s degree as well as a sizeable trust fund if she would be willing to bear and raise the world’s first, cloned human.

  She had stared at Professor Uda as the proposition was explained. He had appeared to be deeply in thought, gently rubbing the side of his neck. He was a handsome man, with only the beginnings of wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and across his forehead and grey just starting to invade his hair. His skin was weathered, like he’d spent much of his time in the sun.

  Jacqueline’s attention had snapped back to what was being said. She couldn’t have heard the proposal right. When Stevens had finished, she’d sat, stunned by the offer. Her initial reaction had been to reject the proposal, but as she’d contemplated it further, she’d realized that it might be her only chance at motherhood. The decision would not only be a difficult one, but one with unimaginable ramifications.

  Although she still hadn’t had any romantic interest in men, she’d had a strong maternal instinct. Additionally, all her medical expenses would be paid for, money would be provided to help raise the child, and the baby would be hers. Her child. She’d finally talked herself into it, putting aside any question of morality or ethics surrounding the cloning of a human being, and had given Mr. Stevens her answer. She’d had to address a few formalities with the college, but upon her departure at the end of the fall semester, she was awarded her M.T.S. degree.

  “So I spent the next couple months as a waitress at a diner near my house just to keep busy,” continued Jacqueline. “The rest, as they say, is history.”

  Nysa didn’t reply. She just sat at the foot of the bed absorbing what she had just been told.

  “Thanks for listening Nysa, but I think I’d like to get some rest now. You look like you could use some, too.”

  Nysa glanced at her watch. It was now almost 7 A.M. “Are you sure you don’t want me to wait until you fall asleep?”r />
  “No thanks, I’m fine. Thank you again. I feel a lot better.”

  Nysa hugged Jacqueline and went back to her room to catch some shut-eye herself. She fell asleep almost instantly.

  April 28,

  Outside Castle Rock, CO

  The rest of April tried everyone’s nerves. The loss of the embryo had taken the wind out of more than one person’s sails and everyone skulked around the labs aimlessly. For the lab staff, there wasn’t much else to be done at this stage with the exception of the production and care of additional embryos. Dr. Phipps continued to work tirelessly in the identification of the most promising specimens. The others passed the time washing already clean beakers, running already analyzed scenarios on the computers, and attempting to keep busy in the down time.

  When Jacqueline’s body was again ready for another attempt at implantation, the excitement and giddiness returned. She had had a shorter menstrual cycle than anticipated so there was a bit of a rush for preparation. As the technicians raced around the labs and the medical personnel prepared the rooms, Jacqueline was once again escorted to the medical facilities to await the arrival of Dr. Phipps and, hopefully, her future child. The procedure went well, and no problems arose, but Jacqueline was asked to stay in the medical suite overnight for observation.

  Nysa stepped out of the elevator on level B-4, the medical floor, and made her way past the nurses’ station toward Jacqueline’s room. As she turned the corner, a light fixture above her inexplicably exploded, showering Nysa with glass. She wasn’t injured but was a bit shaken by the experience. She brushed off the broken glass as a nurse called a technician to test the fixture for any problems and replace the light bulb. This was the second time a light fixture had burst and there was obviously some sort of short or surge happening in the system that needed to be addressed.

  Nysa stepped cautiously through the shards and continued down the hall. She entered the room and sat down on the end of the bed, crossing her legs and facing Jacqueline. In Nysa’s opinion, the room was much larger than necessary. A full-sized couch sat opposite the door, a television positioned so that both the patient and her guest would be able to see it. A collection of computers and monitors lined the wall behind the bed and a small rolling stool stood abandoned in the corner.

  The young woman looked tired but alert. Her hair was a bit out of place and makeup nearly gone from the long day she had had. Her gown was crumpled and open in the back, but Jacqueline seemed not to notice or care. Modesty apparently was not high on her priority list at the moment. Nysa noticed that Jacqueline kept glancing over at the monitors. She looked nervous. She sat fidgeting with her hair and chewing on her bottom lip.

  “How are you feeling?” Nysa asked.

  “Fine,” answered Jacqueline. “But then again I felt fine last time, too.”

  “Try not to think about last time. I know it’s hard, but the less stress you put on your mind and body, the better the chance of success.”

  “I know, I’ll try. Thanks for coming. You know, you’re the only person in this whole place who has come to visit me. Pretty sad, huh? We’re all trying to be a part of something special but still don’t take the time to know anything about one another. We’ve been here, what, three months, and you’re the only person I know. And quite honestly, I don’t know much more than your name.” Nysa flinched at the observation. “What are you doing here? What’s your role in this grand scheme? Let’s hear the life and times of Dr. Nysa Knight.”

  “Since you need some rest, I can help put you to sleep if you’d like.”

  Jacqueline laughed. “Go on, let’s hear it. If it’s too boring, I promise I’ll go to sleep for you.”

  Nysa rolled her eyes. She adjusted herself on the end of the bed and got comfortable. She told Jacqueline about growing up just outside Los Angeles. During her childhood, she had lived across the street from an orange grove. She had fond memories of the smell of orange blossoms as she ran through the trees playing hide and seek with friends. She had spent many an afternoon in those groves, running and laughing, throwing oranges at her older brother, having them thrown back harder.

  There was a small shed at the back of the grove. Although she realized later on that it was for taxidermy, she and her brother had been convinced that it was the home of a werewolf. The various bones of small animals gave them all the proof they needed. This conclusion had been confirmed by many of the older kids in their neighborhood. Each told tales of how they had seen the werewolf wandering amongst the trees carrying small animals in its powerful jaws. Their descriptions of the werewolf had differed, leading Nysa and her brother to the conclusion that there were multiple animals.

  How many nights had she stood in front of her bedroom window with her brother, straining to catch a glimpse of the creature? On evenings when they felt especially daring, they stood out in front of the house and opened their brand new pack of grape Bubblicious gum, which they had heard attracted the beast. They lingered in the yard chomping away, alert for the first signs of a werewolf so they could retreat back into the safety of their home. While they obviously had never spotted the werewolf, Nysa and her brother continued their commitment to the cause, purchasing grape gum at every opportunity. Their mother had even commented on their lack of variety at one point. What did she know?

  Those innocent times had ended when she was ten years old. Nysa’s parents and brother had died in a car accident on the way home from a baseball game. Her brother had been selected for the All-Star team, and they had won their first game. While driving home, her father swerved in an unsuccessful attempt to avoid hitting a dog and drove off the side of the road into a canyon. According to the doctors, their deaths had been swift and painless. Nysa had not been with them as she had come down with a case of the flu and stayed home with a babysitter.

  For years, she was consumed with survivor’s guilt. She went to live with her aunt and uncle and had gone through endless sessions with a therapist to work through her feelings. It had taken some time, but she had slowly moved on and had adjusted to her new environment. She was going to a new school, had made new friends, and was enjoying being a teenager.

  As she progressed in high school, she realized her calling. She began taking the proper electives—A.P. Biology, Anatomy and Physiology, and Chemistry—to prepare her for a career in the medical field. This focus on her studies did not allow much time for extra-curricular activities, but she managed to maintain a few close friends that she hung out with on a regular basis. Nysa told Jacqueline of her acceptance to Stanford and career at UCLA.

  While Nysa was discussing her undergraduate studies, Jacqueline appeared to lose a bit of interest put perked up as Nysa detailed her graduate work at UCLA, especially the coursework that had involved actual hospital work. Jacqueline interrupted periodically to ask questions about how Nysa felt about the things that she saw and how she thought it had affected her. After having to give some excruciating details about the injuries and illnesses she had seen, Nysa was able to wrap it up. “And as you say, the rest is history. Now get some rest. I’ll check on you later.” She stood up, stretched, and tucked the young woman into bed, much like a mother and her child.

  The next day Nysa returned to the medical floor and escorted Jacqueline back to her room. They sat in the living room, watching chick-flicks and chatting. Nysa talked about Alastair and how horribly she missed him. She told Jacqueline about the party where they had met. Nysa revealed that she had indeed seen the bagpipes but had wanted to speak with Alastair so badly that she had sat down on them to catch his eye. Although it hadn’t gone quite how she had planned it in her mind, the end goal had been achieved.

  She told Jacqueline about the box of letters she had left for him and her hope that he was enjoying them. Nysa even told her about the pictures she’d taken and left for him. Jacqueline was impressed at her boldness. Nysa wondered aloud if Alastair missed her as much as she did him. Jacqueline listened intently.

  “I hope I can have t
hat some day,” Jacqueline said. “I’ve never really been in love. I had a couple of boyfriends before the thing with my dad, but nothing serious. We’d hold hands and sometimes kiss, but it was really because I thought that’s what everyone did, not because I had any strong feelings for them. They were both cute guys, nice, but nothing like what I see when you talk about Alastair. You light up when you talk about him. What’s it like to be in love?”

  “It’s the most wonderful feeling on earth. I’ve heard that ‘love adds a bright tomorrow, subtracts my bitter past, multiplies my happiness, and divides my burdening sorrow.’ I’m not quite sure where that came from, but I like it. Alastair helps me through my hard times, and when I have a good day I want to share it with him. Everything is sweeter when I share it with him, or less bitter, depending on the circumstances.”

  “Must be nice,” Jacqueline interjected, sitting back with a sullen look on her face.

  “I’m sure you’ll find someone who will be your Prince Charming. You just need to give it time. Just keep plugging along and have some fun. It usually happens when you least expect it. My advice is to never say ‘no’ to a first date. You may be surprised at how different someone can be outside of certain settings. Take work for example. Someone may be stuffy and dry at work, but fun and exciting if you can get him out of a suit and into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Come to think of it, just the out-of-the-suit part would probably do the trick.” Nysa winked at Jacqueline and the younger woman giggled. “But seriously, just let it happen and it will.”

  “Thank you,” Jacqueline said and leaned back in her chair. Nysa followed suit and they finished watching You’ve Got Mail in silence.