by Anthology
Nathan nodded. “And how long before I’ll need another procedure if I choose option two?”
“We’ve seen results in the neighborhood of seventy to eighty years.” Dr. Morrow leaned forward. “There is one more thing to think about. The cost.”
“Cost? It’s not covered by my original initiation fee?”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Duncan, but no. Maintenance procedures are extra. It was covered in your commencement seminar and initiation contract.”
“Well, how much, then?” Nathan demanded.
“Option one will cost you 300,000 credits, while option two will cost you 75,000 credits.”
“Are you kidding? That’s nearly the same amount I paid to get into this exclusive club in the first place.”
“Like I said, Mr. Duncan. It’s an intense procedure.”
Nathan bolted from his chair. He stood hovering over Dr. Morrow, pulse quickening as beads of sweat rose to the surface of his forehead. “Here’s what I think. I think you sold me an illusion of immortality, where you promised me that I could live forever, and now you’re telling me I actually cannot without spending more credits.”
“In essence, Mr. Duncan, you are right on both accounts,” Dr. Morrow began. “Yes, you will continue to live, potentially forever. However, if you want to live a happy and coherent life, it will cost you. If you choose not to have either of these two procedures done, your life will continue as it has, but your memory and mental acuity will continue to slow, sometimes faltering. We are, however, continually working on groundbreaking research which utilizes an advanced form of nanotechnology that will hopefully expand the memory capacity of the human mind. Unfortunately, the technology is complicated and is still quite a distance away from completion.”
“How far away are we talking?” Nathan asked.
“Unfortunately, I’m not at liberty to discuss our current research status. But I assure you that we’re making every effort to bring this solution to our clientele as soon as possible.”
Still standing, Nathan leaned against the cold metal wall as he digested this massive wrinkle. After several minutes of silence, Dr. Morrow spoke.
“Mr. Duncan,” he began.
“Call me Nathan.”
“Alright. Nathan, please understand you don’t have to make this decision right now. If you like, you could go home and think through the options that I’ve presented. If you come back in a day or two, or even a week, no severe memory issues will occur.”
Nathan nodded his head, but didn’t say a word. He continued to lean against the wall in stoic contemplation.
“Nathan?”
“I, um. If you don’t mind, could I have another go at your rememoration machine?” Nathan asked as he nodded toward the chaise lounge in the corner. “Maybe if I could cycle through some past memories, it might help me decide.”
Dr. Morrow smiled. “Absolutely, Nathan. Really, that’s what it’s there for. My only suggestion is that you start with an early memory, and cycle through as many as you can get through without dwelling on any single point for too long.”
“How do I do that?”
“Imagine that you are remembering your first visit here again. When you feel that you’ve re-experienced as much as you need, just think the words fast-forward and the rememoration machine will advance you and your memory ahead. It’s a little tricky to get used to, but once you get the hang of it, you’ll be able to slide through many years of your life in a matter of minutes.”
“Sounds easy enough. How much time can I have?” Nathan asked.
“Take as much time as you need, but I imagine that you will need only a limited amount of time before your decision is clear.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Experience, mainly. Also, you are in your first generation of immortality. Once you get the hang of controlling the pace of your memories, you’ll be able to fly through your life before you know it,” Dr. Morrow said as he stepped out into the corridor.
Nathan stared at the reappeared door for a minute before he settled into the lounge chair. As he lay back, he tried to recap all the information that he’d just received, but within moments, sleep had swallowed him whole.
***
A peculiar haze obscured my vision, but I could hear voices—or a single voice, rather, in the distance. As I focused on the words being spoken, I began to understand. The voice was mine. I was at Beverly’s memorial. I was delivering her eulogy, and the room was silent.
“…Beverly was the love of my life, and I, like many of you, am lost without her. She was the most giving, the most caring person I’ve ever known. She made many sacrifices to better the lives of those around her.
“One of her particular gifts was such a selfless act, she saved me in more ways than I can truly say. She gave me a long life, and she was the reason for me to live. Then, shortly after this amazing act of kindness, she was diagnosed with a virulent disease. She vowed to fight for her life, but she only lived a short six months after her diagnosis of MDS, and four of those were spent bedridden in the hospital. She continued her fight after undergoing a bone marrow transplant and contracting a lung infection. I stayed with her, sleeping in the same room, until a few months ago, when Beverly was admitted to the ICU with pneumonia. She was unconscious for almost the entire time. I held her hand often and stroked her hair. I massaged her legs and feet, and talked to her. I told her that I loved her every hour of every day. The cruelest part of her ordeal was that she was so close to me, but couldn’t say a word. Just a few weeks before, she had been talking with me and the nurses, planning some spring activities, and dreaming of her future. Then last Friday, her heart stopped for the first time. By Sunday, it was clear that she would not recover. On Monday I held and kissed her hand for the last time.
“I forever want her near me. To feel her arms wrapped around me, squeezing me—feeling her cheek pressed against mine. To say: Bev, I love you. My life is complete with you by my side. My beloved, I will miss you forever and can’t wait for the day when we can be together—to hold each other and share our love again.
“Beverly has gone into the light and is now free…”
fast-forward
As I wandered aimlessly along the city sidewalks, the soles of my feet were nearly frozen by the rain. People would see me and cross to the other side of the street, avoiding contact. It had been months since I had spoken with anyone directly. My beard had grown in, scraggly and unkempt. The standard string of condolences had filtered through, but I didn’t respond to any of them. All I wanted was my wife back—my old life back. Now, all I could do was wait for eternity and its punishment of self-pity and suffering.
A car slipped along the road, its tires carving through the standing puddles in its path. As it neared, it swerved in an attempt to avoid drenching me, but it was too late. I saw it coming and did nothing to avoid it. Seemingly in slow motion, I watched the driver as he passed and a look of concern was clearly present on his face. Now soaked, I turned at the next corner and headed for Homer Bridge.
As I ascended the steep incline, I felt invigorated for the first time since Beverly left this world. It wouldn’t be much longer before I could be with her again.
Despite the late hour, the traffic on the bridge was heavy. Several times, cars swerved into oncoming traffic to avoid hitting me. Those drivers didn’t know that they needn’t have worried, because it would have saved me the long climb to the top.
As I crested the approach ramp, I saw a break in the traffic. After the next truck passed, I would be clear to take my final steps back to Beverly. I wiped the moisture from my eyes—a mix of tears and fallen rain. I stepped up to the protective railing and looked out across Cadre River and wondered…
fast-forward
Staccato beeps cut through the black. The room was dark, and I was lying down. Beep, beep. Beep, beep.
I blinked away the darkness, only to have it replaced with blurred light from all directions. I leaned my head from side t
o side, but still couldn’t focus. The pain that was present was strong, but bearable. I tried to raise my hand and scratch the side of my nose, but my arm was lashed tightly to my chest. I tried to raise my other hand, but it was also incapacitated. The itch—it was driving me crazy. I forced my head hard to the right and rubbed my nose against the pillow beneath my head. As I did, the tubes running into my nostrils dislodged and the beeping was now accompanied by a hissing sound. Beep, beep—hiss.
“Hello there, sleepyhead,” came a voice from my left. The voice was female, soft and comforting.
I whipped my head toward the source, but the plaster covering my left shoulder prevented me from looking in that direction.
“Take it easy, mister. You’re okay now. You’re going to be up and about before you know it,” she said.
“Mpah id ghapgn?” I tried to speak, but the thick tube stuck down my throat prevented it.
A warm hand soothed my forearm. “Shh, shh. Just relax. The tracheal tube is in place because you had a collapsed lung. You couldn’t breathe on your own for several days. The doctor thinks we can remove it later today, though, so that’s good news.”
I blinked rapidly and with each beat of my eyelids, the blur began to subside. I looked down at myself and noticed that my body was covered in plaster, from the tips of my toes all the way up to my left shoulder.
“I have to say, you are one lucky man. If that boat hadn’t spotted you as you fell, you very well might have frozen to death. But here you are, and your prognosis is quite remarkable. I’ve never seen a person heal as quickly as you have. You truly are a special individual,” the woman said as she slid the oxygen tubes back into my nose. “I’m Nurse Sadusky, but you can call me Addison.” She smiled. “That is, if you could speak. And at your rate, that won’t be too far off.”
fast-forward
“I can’t. Just let it go, would ya!” I screamed.
“No, I won’t! Nathan, how long have we been at this? Twelve months? Look how far you’ve come. The doctor told you that you might never walk again, and last week, you took your first steps. So what if we helped? That’s a tremendous achievement. I think you’ve got this. Now get your pansy ass up and try again,” Addison demanded.
“Can’t I just rest for a bit? I’m so tired,” I cried, and rolled away from the nurse who had been with me every step of the way.
“Okay, I’ll give you five minutes,” she agreed. “But after that, I want to see you pull yourself up on those bars and give me five steps.”
“Five? I only took one last week. I’ll give you two, and you’ll be happy with it,” I said, hoping my stern attitude would relieve her persistence, even just a little bit.
“Only two steps? What do you think this is, some kind of country dance class? I need four from you and then we’ll call it a day.” Addison stared deep into my eyes, and I could see that she was easing her drill sergeant stance with every obstacle I threw up.
“How about we meet in the middle? I’ll push for three steps and then I’ll let you give me a sponge bath,” I said, trying to turn on the charm.
“You think me giving you a sponge bath is my reward for helping you walk again?” she asked as she sidled up to me and begin to lift me back to the rails. “I think you owe me much more for everything that I’ve had to endure since…” She broke off.
Addison pulled me up and placed my hands on the rails. Before she could back away from me, I leaned in and gently kissed her cheek.
“Hey, mister. There’ll be none of that on my watch.”
“Well, when does your watch end?” I said just inches from her lips.
“When I can get you to walk, unassisted. That’s when.” She smiled.
I knew right then that I would walk again. She was the driving force behind it all.
“Now, move!” she demanded.
fast-forward
“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride,” proclaimed the minister.
I lifted Addison’s veil and kissed her passionately in front of several hundred of our closest friends. Then we turned and walked effortlessly down the aisle.
“I love you, Addi. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be here right now, and walking gracefully, to boot,” I said.
“And I love you, babe. You’ve also saved me, in so many ways,” she replied.
As we walked past our guests, I wondered if marrying again was the smart thing to do…or just the right thing to do right now.
fast-forward
I paced anxiously outside the bathroom door. The sound coming from the other side of the door was stomach-turning.
“Are you going to be alright in there?” I asked. I knew the answer before she said it.
“I’mm gon’ be fiiiine, babby. Why doncha go and warm up the sheets an’ I’ll be right out,” Addison slurred—from the bathroom floor, no doubt.
I grabbed my pillow and walked toward the hall. As I passed the bathroom, I paused. “Listen, I think you need some rest. I’m going to sleep downstairs tonight. We can talk about this in the morning.” Then I waited.
I could hear her spit into the toilet before she responded. “But, baaaby, I wan’ you tooooniiight.” And then, more grotesque splashing into the toilet.
fast-forward
“Happy anniversary, babe. Let’s toast to eight exciting years. And then let’s do shots for eight more,” Addison stammered, obviously having already consumed a few too many flutes of champagne for the evening.
“It’s been an exciting eight years, that’s for sure,” I said, not sure how to cut Addi off without inciting another incident. “Let’s finish the bottle now, and then move the rest of the celebration home,” I suggested, hoping to placate her indulgences.
“Oh, please, Daddy. Can’t we stay out late just once?” she cooed. “I promise to be a good girl, Daddy.”
I smiled on the surface, but deep inside, I worried for her. She’d promised me, yet again, just last month that she had her drinking under control. Yet here we were, on the precipice of an uncontrollable situation.
fast-forward
“I want to thank you, asshole, for supporting me like you have,” Addison spat.
“Do you have to constantly belittle me like that? It’s not my fault that you lost your job. One would think that showing up to the hospital drunk would be a career-limiting move,” I replied, feeling no remorse.
“Well, to hell with you. You were right there drinking with me, or did you forget?”
“I remember. I also remember telling you that you’d had too much, and that you can’t control yourself. Many times.”
Addison stomped into the kitchen. I’d known this argument would come eventually, and after 15 years of marriage, I was constantly looking for the right time to get out. Unfortunately, Addi was always one step ahead of me, knowing that I would delay asking for a divorce if she was unable to support herself.
Soon. It had to be soon.
fast-forward
After 18 years, 18 very difficult years, I knew tonight was the night that I would end it. My agelessness could no longer take her disregard for life. She failed to understand just how precious every moment was. She’d been aware of my condition for several years now, and seemed to despise me because of it. She somehow expected me to swoop in and treat her to immortality as well, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Her total disregard for anyone but herself would make her an ugly immortalitarian. No, tonight, after dinner, I was going to ask for a divorce.
“Where are we going tonight?” Addison asked. “I hope someplace good. I’m starved!”
“I was thinking that we’d walk into midtown and try that Cuban place,” I said.
“Ooh. That sounds divine.” She slid her arm into mine. “Honey, can we talk about something?”
“Sure. What’s on your mind?”
“I know the last few years have been rough, and I’m going to make a change,” she said.
I continued to stare ahead as we walked. I�
��d known she would try to woo me into another trap. “What kind of change?” I asked, not sure that I wanted to hear her latest excuse.
“Today, I stopped by the AA office and signed up. I know my drinking has been hard on both of us, and I feel that I can really stick with this, if you’ll still have me.”
Shit. Now what was I going to do? I couldn’t very well ask for a divorce now. And she, no doubt, knew that. Was I so transparent?
As we continued to walk along the dark streets of midtown, my mind was completely focused on what I was going to do. I failed to notice the shadowy figure come up behind us until it was too late.
“You two, stop right there! Don’t turn around or I’ll shoot. I have a gun.”
Instinctively, I turned to the stranger behind us. He did in fact have a gun, and it was pointed right at my face.
“I said, don’t turn around! Now give me all your money. And while you’re at it, give me all your jewelry,” the robber demanded.
I slowly pulled my wallet from my pocket and motioned for Addison to do the same. She shook her head, almost unnoticeably.
NO! my eyes screamed at her, but it was too late.
“I am not going to give you anything, sweetie, and you know why? Because my husband here—he can’t be killed. He’s immortal, so it doesn’t matter what you do to him.”
“Don’t listen to her,” I begged. “Here. Take my wallet, and here’s my watch. It’s a Tag.”
“So, he’s immortal, huh? What about you?” he asked Addison, now pointing the pistol at her.
“Here! I have your money,” I said, nearly shoving my wallet in his face.
He snatched the wallet out of my hand and stuck it in his coat pocket. “Thanks. Now, I also want what Miss Smartass has, and it ain’t the money anymore,” he said, looking Addi up and down.
Addison tried to step behind me, but the robber grabbed her, nearly missing her arm. His grip couldn’t hold as she yanked away. As she began to run, the report from his gun nearly deafened me and I watched Addison drop to the ground, blood quickly soaking her blouse.