by Aziz, M.
Tomás nodded.
‘If you need anything made clear, better now than later.’ he added. ‘I can get into minutiae if you wish.’
Marilyn cleared her throat. Prof Barber directed his eagle gaze at her.
‘This body,’ she said, ‘it’s from their consent; a donor card?’
Prof Barber looked at his monitor for a few seconds. His spectacles reflected a blank document.
‘...Authorised is the choice word.’
‘So, you pull one out of a test tube?’ she replied.
‘You were warmer. It is from full-grown stock.’
‘Look, we’re not in the mood to play warmer, colder.’ said Tomás.
‘The incarcerated. Lifers.’
‘You plan to save my husband from death through a body that the country has shunned? I must be hearing things...’
‘No need to settle for the worst offender, if you wish.’
Tomás and Marilyn looked at each other.
‘Mrs Gabino. Who in their sane mind would give up their whole life for someone they’ve never met?’
‘A life for a life, then?’ asked Tomás.
‘We’re talking erasure.’ he paused. ‘Plus some cosmetic adjustments. The catalogue features those not destined to ever feel a sliver of sunlight on their skin again, wasted resources. Also, your wonderful golden tone doesn’t go against what we have on offer. There’s not a piece of the puzzle we’ve left out.’
Tomás shook his head slowly.
Prof Barber breathed out deeply. ‘...A hasty decision can be a bad one; as can one made not too soon. That clock in your skull is millimetres from shutting the window.’
‘These lips aren’t saying another word.’ said Marilyn. ‘You’ve been... A great help, Professor. Tomás, up.’
Prof Barber closed his eyes in anticipation of a violent door slam.
Their exit was the opposite.
‘One week.’ he muttered. ‘One week.’
Back home at dinner Tomás and Marilyn carefully explained the appointment to his parents.
‘But get to no lose you...’ said Estela. Her eyes were wide and her mouth looked as if it had tasted something bitter. ‘Body is just outside thing. I mean look me, skin all crease, black in the hair going! But thing that make you alive... They look after this, no?’
‘You’re thinking about what they talk about in the holy books, aren’t you?’ he looked at Alberto who chewed slowly, quietly. ‘They’re not going to suck a ghost out of me... It’s much more like ripping the cover off a book and putting a new one on.’
‘It is better than going under in a box before your time.’ said Alberto. He pasted a pea with his fork.
Marilyn looked as if her ears had deceived her.
Tomás smiled at Alberto.
‘They have been pulling things out from other people for a while; even the lips, cheeks, eyelids we like to kiss.’ said Alberto. ‘So what difference is it if they put you to the stuff than put the stuff in you? You wouldn’t become unrelated to me if a fire took all your skin off. Your head holds what your other parts don’t.’
‘He gets to stay with us, but... The flesh, the genes, the blood... Urgh!’ Marilyn scrunched her face.
‘Genes and blood have just been playthings for doctors a long time.’ Alberto gulped his mouthful. ‘You can put a new body on a car but the engine will tell you it’s still the same car.’
‘Why are you oppose, Marilyn? Is your partner. Partner who no live much life! Yes, is no small thing, but make longer life of man who put ring on you finger. Is not hard choice, no? Tomás, don’t throw ‘way! Don’t throw ‘way!’
‘Mum. Marilyn doesn’t see things like you and Dad because I’m not her blood. But she looks out for me as much, and certainly not less, as you do.’ he gently squeezed Marilyn’s knee. It didn’t soften her face.
Estela looked down.
‘If I was permanently chained to a breathing machine with drool oozing out the sides of my mouth and my eyes skyward... You wouldn’t flick the switch. I know. But Marilyn uses her brain for me and that’s not the hysterical thing. And you know, maybe not for you, turning her head on the pillow to a strange-looking guy is no small deal.’ he looked at a stiff Marilyn.
‘So she’s a specialist now?’ Alberto banged the table.
‘I shouldn’t have said anything.’ Marilyn produced a tear and ran from the table.
Estela opened her mouth then closed it immediately.
‘Look, I regret raising my voice, Tomás.’ sighed Alberto. ‘Sure, this is no tiny little thing we are talking about. But, I, mainly, can only see the good thing about it. If rocks come on the road we will slowly drive over them. Your mother and me want you at our funerals, not us at yours! This is no insult to Yahweh, or whoever. The work in the laboratory is from the people of Him!’ he grabbed Tomás’s shoulder and squeezed. ‘We don’t have to say goodbye to our son!’
Tomás looked at his parents. A shower of floaters and an illusion of a spark washed over them.
‘I really don’t want to go against Marilyn. I’ll have a few words with her.’ his firm tone made them drop their postures. ‘I’m not that terrified about being no more now. But I am definitely not easy about, maybe, coming back as a sort of wonky Jesus. I hope you can see this from that angle. This decision won’t affect just one life.’
Estela shut her eyes. Tomás looked at Alberto’s veiny neck.
‘I’m going to go console Marilyn now.’
His parents stared at each other until Tomás’s footsteps faded.
‘You think she will allow him another chance?’ asked Alberto.
‘Oh, no put like that!’
Tomás found Marilyn sitting hunched on the bed. He sat beside her.
‘Lots of things are swimming in my head.’ stuck tears dislodged from her eyes.
‘Well, you can’t blame their hearts. Although they caught me off guard too. Not a clue why.’
‘I’m not opposed to it! But even if nothing goes wrong, things just don’t carry on straight as normal. I can’t even picture that future. It’s not an ordinary outlook we’re talking about here!’
‘You assume the Prof’s still up for treating a fool like me?’
‘But you don’t want to back away from it, do you?’
‘There’s a tug of war in me.’ he breathed out. ‘My mind has its bags packed, ready for total oblivion, and that no longer seems a necessarily hard route.’
‘And what about all those who care for you?’
‘If I don’t go quietly to my grave, they’ll just have to swallow it. I’m not going up to these guys with a questionnaire first.’ he paused. ‘Besides, I’ll probably have to shed some of them anyway.’
He laid his head on her shoulder.
Back at Caldwell a guard opened Jim’s cell to let him back in.
‘I’ve just bin profiled.’ Jim bent his fingers beside his face and tilted his head.
Pascual got up from his bunk and stretched his arms. ‘What shit you spoutin’ about now?’
‘They’ve bin zippin’ froo a number a guys a day the last two weeks, takin’ pics outta our boiler suits from all sides! No ordinary lookin’ cam as well.’
‘They wanna trade a fuckin’ disk full of lifer porn or what?’
‘I did coax ‘em, and they just mentioned a sorta database, fillin’ in blanks. Summink like that.’
‘Oh man.’ he laughed. ‘So now my fuckin’ butthole can be linked to a crime scene, right?’
‘Unless you leave the odd rosy whiff you’re damn well buggered.’ chuckled Jim. ‘A bloke was tappin’ away at a keyboard, I didn’t leave without a peek at the visual; they’d stitched me up in 3-D. The doc also pokes around with ya.’
‘Well, as long as they don’t get my proportions wrong I ain’t gonna get in a shit about it. Can’t lose a copy of myself to impress people of the future, right, brother?’
The next day Tomás and Marilyn sat opposite Monifa and Haroon at a restaurant.<
br />
‘Cheers for sparing the time to lend an ear.’ said Tomás. ‘So, thoughts?’
‘You’re just dicking around, right?’ loud-whispered Haroon.
‘You don’t see a grin on me, do you?’
‘Mmm. I don’t tink it’s worth us opening our mouth.’ said Monifa in a slight Nigerian accent. ‘I mean, it’s up to you if you want to try dis, dis... Joke. But I find it just sick, I’m sorry.’ she closed her eyes and shivered, seemingly from a mental image.
‘You don’t mince your words, I love you for that. Haroon’s like a brother and you’re not far from a sister. If I go ahead, both of you would have to share in the dirty work of letting some people understand that I’m no longer as they remember me.’
Monifa and Haroon looked at each other. Marilyn stared at her drink.
‘Are your folks not against it?’ asked Haroon.
‘They don’t want to see the end of their son.’
‘Wuh...’ Haroon paused. ‘You’ll still be that same old guy, though, won’t you?’
Tomás nodded.
‘Well... I won’t walk away if you do it.’ he touched Tomás’s arm. ‘Whatever your head moves you to do, you’ve got my shoulder. Promise. It would be unfair to have to see you in a coffin too soon.’
‘Cheers. As I said, you don’t mince your words.’
Marilyn’s stare was mirrored by Monifa. A moment of silence came and broke with kitchen plates clinking.
‘Just listen to that ting beating in your chest.’ said Monifa. ‘We are close, Tom, but when I put a new case on my phone I tink it becomes cheap, you get me? But I always look slowly at someting before I jodge it. But if I was in your shoes... I would not t’row away my shoes; I would go wi’ dem! I hope the final decision you make is not one you regret.’ she sighed.
‘The coin hasn’t fell on heads or tails yet. Anyway, either way, don’t blab about this for now. I could get into shit.’
Shortly after they all parted ways.
Early that evening Marilyn and Tomás took Gus for a stroll in the park. The sky was silver-grey with fine gold light bleeding through. Marilyn looked carefully at everything around her, as if to ensure a strong memory of the event. When she momentarily closed her eyes she replayed an edit of the last few minutes.
They sat down on a bench. Tomás squinted at Gus and ran a hand down his back, making the dog shiver. Marilyn bit her lip and squeezed both her knees.
‘I don’t need to say anything.’ he said. ‘You know my answer.’
Her nails dug into her knees. She looked away.
Gus turned around and gazed deeply into Tomás eyes. Marilyn eased her fingertips, took a deep breath, exhaled, and held Tomás’s hand. Closing her eyes she nodded.
A few hours later the lights turned off at Caldwell Prison.
‘Ped, you dozed off?’ whispered Jim from the bottom bunk. Pascual’s mattress squeaked. ‘I dunno why, but this place is really startin’ t’ freak me out. Just dawned on me, man.’
‘Well, check into another hotel, then!’ his head slammed the pillow.
‘What I mean’s it’s just gettin’ more... Fucked! This profilin’ business, you weren’t wrong! Why they gotta need photos of us like that? It’s well dodgy.’ springs above contracted. ‘And you know, not only that, but the way the guards are actin’ too. No more ‘ard faces.’
Pascual whipped the covers over his head.
‘...And they’re not lettin’ the peelin’ walls stay like they are!’
‘Would you fuckin’ give it a rest? You’d start shitting yourself if you found one less baked bean on your plate!’
‘Sorry, man. It just don’t add up, though. It’s all startin’ t’ seem bit... Not ugly, you know? They’ve neva splashed much dough on ‘is place, ‘sfar as my noggin can tell. But they’re not fucked with the overcrowding prob, even though there’s more land ‘ere they could put bricks on.’
‘Bro, sardines don’t get put into separate jewellery boxes.’ he sighed loudly.
‘...D’ya reckon they’ll boot some o’ the nicer guys back into the world?’
‘You seen Gandhi in here?’ he laughed. ‘This ain’t Purgatory, man.’
‘I got a funny feelin’ in my bones and it ain’t arfritis.’
‘‘’ey dipshit. The second a cop snapped a wedding ring on your wrist and a wooden hammer got banged, you lost the need to worry.’ he mumbled something else before slamming his head into the pillow.
Jim forced his eyes shut and tossed and turned through the night.
3
The following morning Marilyn softly thumbed the holographic keys of her phone. Tomás stood behind her with his eyes down as if hiding behind a saviour from a bully. She momentarily turned to catch his rabbit-headlight gaze then put the phone to her ear.
‘Speaking?’ asked a downbeat, somewhat familiar voice.
‘...This is Prof Barber’s extension, isn’t it?’
‘How can I be of assistance, Mrs Gabino?’ he sighed.
‘We’d like to...’ her voice lowered. ‘What you offered.’
‘Oh.’ leather appeared to creak. ‘Well, I knew not to be too grieved with your initial reaction, but now your husband will be helping to...’
‘Okay, um, yeah.’ she interrupted. ‘So, when?’ the phone began slipping.
‘I can offload some of tomorrow’s appointments. If you’re familiar with choosing a kitchen it will be sort of like that... When we’re starting to lose Tomás we won’t delay.’
Marilyn placed her free hand over her mouth. Tomás squeezed the top of her shoulder. His subdued smile relaxed her muscles.
‘Name a time.’ she breathed out.
The next morning Marilyn looked zombified with heavy bags under her eyes as she stood with Tomás outside Prof Barber’s throbbing door. She felt her face heat up.
‘...I’ll, I’ll wait out.’ she sat back down, her knees touching.
Tomás breathed in before entering.
‘Please, sit.’ said Prof Barber at his desk.
Tomás nodded and complied.
‘Too much for your wife to bear?’ he added.
‘Guess so.’
Prof Barber moved his index finger forward and double-tapped a cursor pad. Tomás watched the screen reflection on Prof Barber’s lenses. As soon as the warped white squares filled with colour Prof Barber swivelled the monitor.
‘Well, select carefully now.’
Tomás squinted.
‘See, we can touch a head-shot that you’re not averse to and that takes us to a detailed model with text.’
Tomás studied the faces. ‘Sorry, my mind’s just taking this as a joke.’ he shook his head.
‘Just take a deep breath... How could you overlook this one?’ he smiled and opened a profile displaying a nude figure which rotated according to his finger. Text detailed body health data.
‘You’re kidding with this one, right?’
‘Okay. You touch the screen and have a flick through. With the drop-down boxes you can cut through the chaff; pick something you think is close to your reflection, or what you wish for.’
Tomás re-selected Venezuelan from the ethnicity list. The ensuing number of head-shots didn’t seem to scream brother or cousin at him. Suddenly his eyes shifted to a ragged face which he touched.
‘I know this isn’t quite like choosing a new kettle, but don’t shy away from using similar instincts.’
‘I see this guy doesn’t come with a small package deal.’
Prof Barber shrugged.
‘I’m not put off by his shape, I guess. Almost matches up to me. I wouldn’t bawl if I woke up like that. I think.’
Prof Barber turned the monitor back. ‘He’s not your complete polar opposite, that’s for certain.’
‘What does it matter, though, really? Take any one of these men and they’re just a container for me.’
‘So, there will be no regrets when you walk out pretty much like that?’ he turned the monitor again.
‘Though, wouldn’t your wife like a say?’
A printer whirred and eased out a document.
‘She just about okayed me to do this. I think she’d collapse at any more decision sharing.’
‘Hand her this printout. Ink on that paper doesn’t remain after twenty-four hours. But if an image leaks onto the internet or any other source... Well, you won’t be seeing my current manner again; you won’t be seeing anything. I hope I don’t have to raise my voice to hammer that point across. Now, I’m sure you don’t want to keep the body completely as it is, do you?’
‘Just don’t be restrained in trying to get my vibe on that. I know not to hold out for a mirror image, though, of course.’
Prof Barber nodded, typing.
‘Just so you know, we won’t be letting this condemned body ejaculate sperm. But that’s not going to affect what you could do between the sheets. If needed, we have some of your semen in the freezer and that can be thawed out any time.’
‘Can’t argue with the math.’ Tomás seemed to daydream for a second then shook his head.
‘You can still backtrack, but if we suspect that request is made under reduced mental capacity my ears will be deaf to it. If you visualise the procedure as far from comparable to a prehistoric photocopy-machine job there’s nothing to fret about. Call the data whatever you want, the outcome is postponing your death certificate. Waking up in a body where bastard multiplying cells haven’t taken up squatting.’
‘If I’m going to be laid out as a file on a computer, what’s to stop you from copy-pasting me over and over in bodies for some sick reason? I don’t want mental-twin siblings at this age.’
‘Tomás. I have a commercial interest. I’m not going to shoot that in the foot by setting up a horror movie. That will be found in bold print on the dotted line I need you to sign. We won’t be deleting your brain contents off the storage but don’t think that’s for anything other than the rare event of needing to perform a re-installation.’
‘Didn’t skip your homework, then?’