Forever Young: Blessing or Curse (Always Young Trilogy)

by Morgan Mandel

  This time all the doors lay open in the suite, instead of only the one used for the interview.

  They entered the first area, which looked more like a living room, with two cranberry colored recliner chairs, matching couch, end tables, and soft lighting from strategically placed floor lamps shining on the black and grey carpet. To one side a modern kitchenette gleamed. The cameraman set up his gear in the corner.

  As soon as the green light appeared, Mr. Remington waved her to a chair, where she gratefully sank. With sweat dripping to the back of her velour suit, she watched him step to the refrigerator and remove a bottle of water.

  Next to the refrigerator, he tapped a wall tile to reveal a built-in safe. He entered a combination, reached inside, and withdrew a tiny pill bottle.

  Holding both, he walked up to her. “Are you ready?”

  Dorrie’s stomach felt queasy. She ran her dry tongue over her upper lip. Maybe she should say no, and live life like everyone else.

  Did she really want to? Lately everything seemed so meaningless. In the past month her husband had died, and her job had vanished, not to mention, she had no family to speak of and her smattering of friends lived nowhere nearby. She’d almost asked Jeanne’s advice, but instead decided to control her own destiny.

  Though a search on the the web hadn’t produced any results about the young pill, it couldn’t be dangerous. No matter how much Larry had needed a job, he wouldn’t have worked at the Institute if he didn’t believe in its products. He’d been assigned to vet the young pill, and someone with his qualifications would have noticed any flaws in the pill’s formula and notified Mr. Remington of them. She’d trust his judgment and not back out. Only good would come of this.

  Dorrie squared her shoulders and looked up at the Angel Man. “Yes, Mr. Remington, I’m ready.”

  “Roman,” he said, handing her the pill.

  She nodded, with her mind more occupied on what she was about to do than on his first name offer.

  “This should take you back to twenty-four, the age you requested. Now remember, it won’t happen all at once.”

  Again, a surreal feeling gripped her, like when she’d seen Roman in Larry’s den.

  As she reached for the pill, her fingers shook so much she almost dropped it. Taking a deep breath, she grasped it tightly, and then placed it on her tongue. He opened the water bottle and handed it to her. She gulped both the water and pill down, then handed the bottle back.

  “That will be all,” Roman told the cameraman.

  My God, she’d done it. She didn’t know whether to be proud or angry with herself. She told herself to stay calm and not get upset. What did it matter what happened to her? She was only a tiny speck in a crazy, mixed-up universe. If the pill didn’t behave as promised, so be it. No, that wasn’t the right attitude. She must think positive. The pill would work and she’d be young again, with a new and exciting life ahead of her.

  As the coolness of the water swirled into her abdomen, a tiny voice inside of her whispered she’d made a mistake.

  ***

  The morning after her first dose, though she knew it was too soon, Dorrie couldn’t resist checking the bathroom mirror for signs of improvement.

  The creases between her eyebrows, and the wrinkles lining her eyes and her mouth still stared at her. It was too early, but she couldn’t help hoping anyway.

  As she drove to the Institute, she tried not to second guess. Good grief, she’d already made her choice. Would she feel such uncertainty every time she took the pill?

  When she stepped from her Hyundai onto the asphalt, again she averted her eyes from the tragic spot. She started to walk, but her legs shook even more than the day before. It was almost as if they were telling her to go back to the car and drive home. She’d taken the pill only once. If she stopped now, maybe she’d be normal. If she continued on instead, she placed herself in danger of contracting cancer or some other kind of disease. Then again, wasn’t growing old a disease?

  Remember, Mom, she told herself. Her mother’s plight was reason enough to reach out and press the doorbell. From now on, she’d not question her decision. Head high, Dorrie smiled at Roman when he answered, then followed him to his office. She’d reaffirmed her decision and that was that. No more pondering and obsessing.

  Each day, as Dorrie took the pill in Roman’s office and allowed her appearance to be documented, she ignored her negative feelings. It had to be all right. She felt fine, in fact, more energetic than ever. Even her aches and pains had started to disappear.

  After a month, the wrinkles began to fade, as did the veins and cellulite on her legs. In another month’s time, her gray hair reverted to a vibrant blond without dye.

  Roman smiled with approval, as he lined her up for another bikini shot where she’d previously stood in her lumpy body. When his eyes raked her figure, she still felt embarrassed, but at least now she didn’t also feel ashamed. In a different lifetime, Larry had glanced at her like Roman did now. Her heart ached at the reminder.

  “Where’s that happy smile?” the cameraman coaxed.

  Shaking off melancholy, Dorrie turned her lips up. Nothing could be gained from dwelling on her losses. A lifetime of promise lay ahead of her, even if it didn’t include Larry.

  Roman administered another pill in his office. After the taping had finished and the cameraman had left, he said, “You’re progressing on target. Tomorrow I’ll give you alternate IDs and credit cards with your actual name, but a later birth year.”

  Dorrie’s spirits soared when he handed her the cards, evidence the pills were really working.

  As the changes advanced, Dorrie’s hair shone, her skin grew soft and supple. Instead of size fourteen, she went down to a seven. What a pleasant transformation from saggy to firm. How could she have hesitated to take this marvelous pill?

  Before long, three months had passed. After another taping session, Roman shot her an assessing glance. His wide smile told her he was pleased with the results. “You’re ready for the next step, Dorrie. Tomorrow, you’ll be my assistant.”

  Since she’d lived in semi-isolation during the reversion process, it would be a welcome change to mingle with others in the light of day. Starting work in a new persona would be fun, almost like a college student on the first day of class. At last she could do something constructive besides cataloging and admiring her looks.

  She smiled back at Roman. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  ***

  On Wednesday morning Dorrie couldn’t keep the spring from her step as she strode to the side door of the Institute. Roman met her downstairs and rode up with her in the elevator. When they arrived at his office, after administering the pill, he handed a small bottle to her. “I’m leaving the pills in your hands now. This will hold you down the rest of this month and through June. Remember, to take one each morning. I’m sure I don’t have to stress the importance of staying on the regimen.”

  “I’ll definitely do that.”

  He then led her through an adjoining door to a smaller space. Dorrie glanced around the room and smiled, taking in the slate colored office furniture, state of the art computer, blush colored wall coverings and matching carpet. Her surroundings seemed a dream come true, as were her looks. She’d work extra hard to show appreciation for what Roman had done for her.

  “You like?”

  “How could I not? It’s gorgeous.”

  Dorrie eagerly listened as he described the equipment she’d use, along with the other aspects of her job.

  Unlike the old-fashioned transcription machine she’d grown used to, the digital one here didn’t require tapes. Roman’s words magically sounded in her earphones by means of an onscreen computer program.

  The Institute’s other software didn’t match any she’d used before, yet contained the usual commands, so it shouldn’t be hard to figure out.

  “Ready to start?”

  She nodded. “Bring it on.”

  Roman only dictated a few le
tters to begin with, which she found easy to master. After a stress free morning, she meandered to the company cafeteria for lunch. Fumbling in her purse for her wallet, she balanced her tray with the other hand. A bump from behind made her tray almost topple, but she righted it in the nick of time.

  She turned to see the cause of the commotion. A dark haired twenty something girl flashed a smile. “Sorry.”

  The warmth in the girl’s eyes made Dorrie smile back. “No problem, nothing lost.”

  Maybe it was her new brave self, but suddenly Dorrie found herself adding, “Do you have anyone to sit with?”

  “No, I’m kind of new here. I’m Kelly Kingston.”

  “So am I.” She laughed. “No, that’s not what I meant to say. I’m Dorrie Donato. I’m new here, too.”

  Kelly’s infectious laugh followed. They found an empty table on the side and laid down their trays. As they talked, they connected on a subliminal level as if they’d known each other forever. Dorrie would have liked to share more about her exciting job, but unfortunately couldn’t divulge any of the incidentals. That was a secret she mustn’t share, though she was burning to do so. She wondered what Kelly would think when she found out. Hopefully, she’d not be offended by the evasion, and they’d stay on speaking terms.

  A few days later Roman stopped by Dorrie’s desk to say, “You’re off Monday for Memorial Day. Tuesday, be here bright and early for priming on the Forever Young news conference following right afterward.”

  Her smile vanished. Though she’d been shot endless times by cameramen and photographers, she’d never experienced a live broadcast. If she made any kind of mistake, thousands, no, millions, might see it. Would anyone she knew be watching?

  Catching the terrified look on her face, Roman patted Dorrie on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, sweets, you’re gorgeous. It’s almost a waste of money, given your natural beauty, but I’ve ordered a hair stylist and makeup artist for you.”

  “Thanks. If I look that good, it’s because of you, Roman.” She owed him so much she could never repay him.

  “Nonsense. You had the raw material to begin with.” He flashed a smile, which would have melted her heart if Larry didn’t still own it.

  Roman went on to instruct her about her role, saying, “The before-and-after film and photos will provide a major portion of your role.”

  Dorrie grimaced at thought of how she’d looked before.

  Roman smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry. When they witness the results, you’ll be more than vindicated. Your stint will be simple. Smile, turn around a few times, say a few words, and look pretty.”

  The old Dorrie still cringed at the thought of people staring at her. She needed to get over that. She had nothing to be ashamed of now. She looked young and pretty, like when she and Larry had dated. The thought sliced a fresh cut in her heart. How could she get used to being without him? She dare not think of Larry or she’d bawl.

  “Is there a problem?”

  “Just a little stage fright. I’ll get over it, I’m sure.”

  She better. Compared to what Roman had given her, what he wanted in return wasn’t much.

  ***

  Saturday, Larry’s friend, Keith Nash, called to see how she was doing. After a mental debate, she chose to fill him in. “You better sit down. You will not believe what I’m doing.”

  “I know you, Dorrie. It can’t be that insane.”

  “Oh, yes it is. Now promise to keep an open mind and not tell me to go straight to the nuthouse.”

  She explained about the pill, then held her breath and waited for his reaction.

  After dead silence, he whistled. “That is way too sci-fi for me, Dorrie. Maybe my brother, Steve would go for it. He loves all that far out stuff; but hey, I don’t mean to take this lightly. This is real, isn’t it? I’m surprised you’d even consider such a thing. Monkeying around with your chemistry isn’t the wisest course of action, unless for medicinal purposes.

  “Plus, if I remember correctly, your track record isn’t the greatest in the world when it comes to substances. Even two drinks put you under. I can’t imagine what that pill would do to you.”

  Dorrie laughed nervously. “I got drunk once in my life from a few drinks at a party and you won’t let me live it down. I swear you were feeding me doubles.”

  “No, I wasn’t, dear heart. Face it, you can’t handle booze.”

  “That’s neither here nor there. I really believe this Forever Young pill is a good thing, and I haven’t gone into the experiment lightly. Though I started the regimen for health reasons, because of my Mom’s osteoporosis, I must admit the cosmetic changes are a tremendous bonus.”

  He sighed. “I see where you’re coming from, but I’m still not convinced. Hell, it’s your body and your choice, and it’s not for me to criticize. Dorrie, I sincerely wish you the best, and hope this experiment works for you. I’ll even watch your commercials and root you on.”

  “Thanks, Keith, I appreciate your support. Now, maybe you can tell me what you’ve been up to. Knowing you, I’m sure it’s a lot as usual.”

  ***

  As Roman passed his assistant, he felt a stir. Working in close proximity to such a knockout presented an exhilarating challenge. He generally preferred keeping dalliances non-work related, but could make an exception in her instance.

  Of course, not everyone who took Forever Young would achieve such spectacular results, but the pill would take care of that. Once the customers were hooked, they’d not desire anything but the next dose. Unwelcome, perhaps fatal side effects might occur for a minority, but nothing was perfect. The benefits would outweigh the risks involved.

  Roman strode to the walk-in closet and donned the waiting cream colored satin shirt, suede pants and matching boots. After a glance in the mirror, he nodded with approval at his angelic looks, the best and only legacy he’d inherited from his no account father. That’s where the resemblance between them ended. He lived his own life.

  Anticipation shot through him as he stepped to the wall safe and entered the combination. Soon he’d do what he loved most. His reward would be the admiration in the eyes of his audience.

  He dialed the special phone line and confirmed his readiness.

  “Okay, then. Get over there and do your shtick. I’ll be watching.”

  Roman knew he would. Nothing escaped the man’s eyes, thanks to the unobtrusive devices blanketing the building. Though others might be chagrined by such scrutiny, Roman felt comfortable in their presence.

  “You won’t be disappointed.”

  He clicked off, and headed out. His pulse and steps quickened as he stepped out and rounded the corner in the hallway. By now the finishing touches should be done, and Dorrie would be ready for the world to see.

  At the far end, he knocked and gained admittance to the special salon fitted with sinks, counters, swivel chairs, hair dryers and hair grooming accessories, along with full length mirrors and a dressing area.

  The hairdresser and makeup artists had skillfully performed their duties, enhancing but not overshadowing Dorrie’s fresh and innocent qualities. Her shoulder length honey colored hair sparkled with vitality. The subtle variations of eye shadow deepened the depths of her warm brown eyes.

  All those were but appetizers to the main dish, an exquisite body barely contained in a buttercup colored bikini. Dorrie’s specially designed costume, while illustrating the pill’s power, emphasized her womanly attributes to advantage, setting off her taffy colored hair, caramel colored eyes, and legs long enough to bring a man to ecstasy in their embrace. The sight made the blood rush to his head, as well as another portion of his anatomy.

  Self-conscious, like a young girl, she flushed at his appraisal, and eagerly reached for the turquoise Oriental wrap from the wardrobe mistress. Dorrie wasn’t used to her new skin, but had all the time in the world to make the transition. For now, shyness added to her appeal. Every man in the room would dream of erasing that innocence.

  �
��You look lovely,” he said, stating the obvious.

  At his words, a flush crept from the nape of her neck and upward, covering her face, making his loins tighten. This would never do. Cameras had a way of ferreting embarrassing details. With tremendous willpower, he forced his mind from Dorrie and onto his responsibilities.

  “Off to the show,” he said.

  Though he’d like nothing better than to place his arm around her waist and feel the soft flesh beneath, he resisted the impulse and kept his hands at his sides, except for motioning the two security guards to accompany them.

  On the way down the elevator, his glance caught Dorrie biting her lip. The gesture made her seem all the more vulnerable and alluring, so much so he wished he didn’t have to share her. Experience would calm her fears. It wouldn’t be long before she, like him, would grow accustomed to the attention and crave it.

  A hush fell over the room as Roman approached the corner of the atrium. Crimson velvet ropes secured by gleaming golden poles cordoned off the broadcast area. The stage was set. The performance was about to begin. Curious onlookers craned their necks for a glimpse of his magnificence. He reveled in the power of capturing the crowd’s attention. Soon he’d mold their minds as well. Before long Dorrie would be the recipient of such favors also, because today a star would be born. He hated sharing the limelight, but knew it would be for the greater good.

  Roman’s nod to the audience resulted in deafening applause. Smiling, he waved to his prospective customers, then glanced toward the left front apron, where Dorrie stood, flanked by the security guards. He flashed her a smile and was rewarded by a shy return. Ignoring a rush of awareness, he faced the audience.

  That’s when the transition occurred from Roman Remington to the “Angel Man,” hope of mankind. As he sought his mark under the skylight, sunshine streamed down, illuminating his shoulder-length blond hair and his shimmering satin shirt. Arching grape vines formed a verdant backdrop. Roses, oleander and camellias surrounded him and filled the air with their fragrance. Mourning doves cooed and finches chirped, as they nestled on the boughs of the citrus trees to either side of him. Perfect.