by Amelia Grace
‘Me too. Meeting you means more to me that I can tell you Cohen,’ he said, his voice breaking with emotion. And then he blew out air between his lips. This was tough for him obviously.
I reached over and clasped his hand in mine.
‘Brothers for eternity,’ I whispered to him, to stop myself from becoming emotional.
What a scene it would cause in this fine dining restaurant full of well-to-do people. Two grown men who look identical crying. We were already receiving many glares our way.
‘They walk among us you know,’ he whispered over to me.
‘Others?....other clones?’ I asked.
‘Yes, medically, physically, they are fine. But emotionally, they are lost. They all seek a connection. A connection to people, wanting to know where they fit into the scheme of the world. They are truly lost……they want to know if they have a soul, or if there is only one soul for each set of unique DNA, and whether the DNA host is the body for the soul?’ Ethan explained.
I sat back in my chair, and ran both of my hands through my hair. Philosophically, theologically, this was a tough question. How could they get a clear cut answer on that one?
‘Ethan, clones do have a soul, otherwise they would not be questioning whether they did or not, in my opinion anyway,’ I tried to add to his discussion.
“Do you believe you have a soul?’ I asked, impatient for his answer.
‘At first I was dogged by the same question. Without a soul, one would not know between right and wrong. Without really feeling it I mean. It would be easy to learn right from wrong though, like in a text book. I guess I am talking about a conscience here. I have a very strong sense of right and wrong. I also have the need for a spiritual connection. Therefore, I have a soul,’ Ethan explained.
‘You are a living human being Ethan. There is no doubt that you possess your own soul,’ I added, supporting him in his reasoning.
As we consumed dinner, we continued in our conversations.
‘Have you thought about having a relationship with anyone Ethan, besides Georgia of course?’ I enquired.
‘I am highly attracted to women, but my relationships with them have always been plutonic. I never tell them that I am a clone. They would instantly put me into the monster box I am sure. It is easier for me if no-one knows my creation or upbringing. I generally tell them that I am adopted,’ he explained.
‘You are a wise man Ethan. I am proud to call you my brother,’ I said. He put down his knife and fork, raised his glass of wine and held it up.
‘Thank-you Cohen. I am the most blessed man in the world,’ he added. I nodded my head slightly at him as I sipped my red wine.
‘Ethan. Will you be one of my groomsmen at the wedding, two weeks time?’ I asked.
‘Are you sure you want to ask me that Cohen?’ he questioned.
‘Absolutely. Our other two brothers will be standing with me there as well. So you must be to,” I explained matter of factly.
Ethan put his hands over his face. I heard him sobbing, his shoulders heaving. I clasped my hands in front of my face and rested them against my lips, looking at the table whilst I waited for him to compose himself. Then I reached over and hand hugged his arm.
‘Welcome to our family. The next step is to meet our parents and brothers. But only when you feel that you can cope with it.’
He breathed in deeply, pulled his hands away from his face, and dried his face with the napkin.
‘Yes. Thank-you Cohen. My dream is becoming a reality, only through your willingness to reach out to me. It all could have ended differently, had you chosen a different path to deal with the information overload that I am your clone,’ Ethan remarked.
‘Tell me Ethan, you being the doctor here. What is the difference between a clone and an identical sibling, beside the obvious time spent in the womb together?’ I asked, eager for his answer.
‘Well, according to scientists, it is exactly that. We did not share the same womb, time of birth, bonding with a mother. It is the nuture coming into play. For instance, if I was your identical twin, nurtured in the same fluid of the amniotic sac, born at the same time, would our intelligences be the same? Am I in fact more intelligent than you, or is it how I was nurtured and immersed in educational curriculums to advance my knowledge in all things as was the plan of my scientific fathers? We would make the perfect study specimens for the great science debate, which I refuse to be part of Cohen, and so should you,’ Ethan explained, his conviction against scientific studies strong.
I nodded my head. There was a lot to think about. But, what it all came down to in the end was compassion. Love for fellow human beings, and helping, not harming. That is all that mattered in this world.
‘So Cohen, how many babies do you think you will have with Georgia?’ Ethan asked, totally off the previous subject.
I raised my eyebrows and chuckled. Such a funny question.
‘You know, we haven’t even discussed that aspect of our lives. For now, I will just be extremely happy being physically close to her. I made a promise to myself in my teenage years that that only woman I would be intimate with would be my wife, and the first time would be on our wedding night!’ I said, entertaining Ethan.
‘And you Ethan. Spill the beans,’ I encouraged,
He looked down at his half eaten food. I had hit an exposed nerve, and his face reflected his pain.
‘I am sorry Ethan. Please don’t answer me if you don’t want to,’ I added, wishing I could backtrack on our conversation.
He started to shake his head.
‘No, not at all. It is a fair question Cohen…….I….did a genetic study on my DNA quite a while ago. I also did so with my semen. I found a permanent change in my DNA sequence – a de Novo mutation. If would be irresponsible of me to father a child, knowing that the de Novo will lead to a genetic disorder in the child. So I consciously choose to never father a child. So to protect myself, a potential mother and a potential child, I purposely will not engage in any sort of physical relationship,’ he explained.
‘But, I recall you asking Georgia to marry you Ethan, why, if that is how you feel about procreation?’ I asked, confused by his explanation previously. He breathed out deeply.
‘I fell in love with her. I felt a connection with her. I felt a longing to be with her. I thought that she would make me feel whole, to place that missing piece of my heart where it should belong. But we were not meant to be. She is yours Cohen. She is unable to love anyone other than you. I asked her to marry me because I thought that I was going to lose her. Panic persuaded me to ask for her hand in marriage. She now understands this. And I am at peace with it all,’ he explained.
I nodded my head. He was right.
‘When you do meet your soul mate Ethan, and you want to have a child with the woman that you adore and cherish, and want to make your family complete with children, I will donate my sperm to you. We are one and the same brother,’ I declared.
Ethan clasped his hands in front of her face as I would do. He nodded his head.
‘Thank-you. That means the world to me. I will consider it when the time is right, and discuss it if I meet the woman of my dreams. All things are possible Cohen.’
It was interesting where our conversations led us. I certainly did not expect to enter into such deep philosophical meanderings. I expected more day to day off the cuff conversation where we talked about our similarities and differences. Or perhaps his childhood compared to mine. But it was better not to venture into the past. It was better to let the past be in the past. I think that we had both decided that without consultation with each other, a silent contract between us. It was better to welcome the future into our lives with open arms, hearts and minds.
Love never fails.
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