Release Candidate

by Aziz, M.

  The women erupted with laughter asymmetrically.

  ‘I’m pulling your leg, doc. After all, you gave me new ones. Hey, can I see my former self?’

  ‘Now I’m certain you’re Mr Gabino, alive and well.’ he chuckled. ‘And I’m afraid you can’t.’

  ‘Reason?’

  ‘We’ve put your donor registration to good use.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Two people would’ve died without your help. And here you are benefiting too.’

  Tomás turned his head as Dr Klimek’s breath drew closer.

  ‘Doctor. Can I just say, I’m happy with my eyes closed at the moment.’

  He felt Marilyn caress the back of his hand.

  ‘Thank God your touch doesn’t feel different.’ he placed his other hand on top of hers.

  ‘You’d laugh if a butterfly wanted to stay in its cocoon, wouldn’t you?’ asked Dr Klimek. ‘You have to face it.’

  Tomás nodded. ‘What about my chest?’

  ‘Tomorrow, and you won’t need our help with that. I’d just advise you to not strain yourself for a few weeks.’

  ‘Are you certain I can feel my own pillow tonight?’

  ‘Well, if your vision’s fine I don’t see why not. People go home in hours just on what we did to you physically.’

  ‘Okay.’ he breathed in and lifted his head. ‘Do your thing.’

  Tomás felt big fingers clamp around his skull. Another hand began pulling at tape on one side of his head holding an eye patch.

  ‘Don’t open your eyes until I’ve removed both. Don’t nod.’ he slowly ripped the tape off the skin.

  The half-hanging pad made Tomás scrunch his nose. His dark view turned a lighter shade. The pad revealed an unscathed, closed-tight eyelid. The freed eyeball twitched rapidly.

  Dr Klimek walked to the other side and slowly tugged at the other tape. Once both were off he gently pulled at padding on the nose. Tomás then felt wet cotton wool dabbed across the gunky tape residue.

  ‘Don’t open them yet.’ said Dr Klimek.

  Tomás heard a clamshell pop open. A tinge of orange pierced through his eyelids.

  ‘What you’re about to see will jar you.’ he added. ‘But keep a hold on yourself. On three now. One... Two... Th-ree.’

  Tomás’s eyelids slowly flickered and rose. He looked at the sharp ceiling light bars then closed them again.

  ‘Come on, Tomás!’ cheered Marilyn.

  He attempted again. His view was a white blur.

  ‘It all looks weird!’ he yelled.

  ‘Don’t be impatient.’ replied Dr Klimek.

  Tomás moved his head left, then right. The blur of the window turned into a double cascading image. Figures in front of him soon formed edges. By the time he focused on the door everything sank into place. He returned his gaze to the front.

  Before him stared a face doubled into two small silver circles. Lifting his hand he began touching his nose, ears, mouth and eyes. The near and far images reciprocated in sync.

  Then he looked up.

  ‘You, you’re all really here!’ he shouted.

  His family looked like an audience waiting for a better punchline.

  He stared at his hands and feet then quickly pulled his knees up to his stomach, covering his head with his hands. Estela walked forward but stopped short.

  ‘Easy now, Tomás.’ said Dr Klimek.

  ‘There’s no need to worry.’ said Marilyn. Her voiced lacked sincerity.

  He slowly pulled his hands down and looked around. Alberto’s smile infected him.

  Tomás’s smile then incrementally morphed into a hyena’s cackle.

  ‘You did it. You really did it! I’m not dead!’ he motioned getting out of bed.

  ‘Mr Gabino, don’t. You have to relax.’

  ‘God! I really thought it was a dream. A semi-conscious dream! Look, I can do things in this with no effort.’ he inhaled deeply. ‘Nothing’s blurry, I hear no buzzing! My body’s at peace! I feel just out of shrink-wrap!’

  ‘You’re definitely responding better than we hoped. What do you think of the modifications?’

  ‘I see some of me in what you’ve done. My smile feels like my smile, even if it might not totally look it. I guess I can make this body my own with time. My hair’s too long.’

  ‘That’s a relief to hear. If future patients respond as you do, well...’

  ‘My chest feels heavy, though. Are you sure you didn’t pump me up too much? I feel exactly the same, you know, south. That’s enough at least, I guess. I won’t feel jealous of myself anyway.’ he laughed.

  ‘As I said, you’ll see tomorrow, but the team did their best on you.’

  Marilyn walked up to Dr Klimek. ‘So, should we take him now?’

  ‘No problems with me. You just have to wait for the architect of all this to arrive. You’ll be taking some items from pharmacy. We need this to ensure mind and body have no hiccups in the first few weeks. Then it’s plain sailing.’

  ‘Hiccups?’ asked Estela.

  Dr Klimek looked at Tomás.

  ‘There’s a very slight risk of memory loss in the first few weeks. But there’s no need to fret. Just make sure the course is completed.’

  Estela narrowed her eyes.

  ‘I’m definitely going to need a new wardrobe.’ said Tomás. ‘The clothes I have will be a little tight now. I have superhero arms! My feet are bigger.’

  ‘We discarded your new body’s original clothing. You can take one of our gowns home and then, perhaps, flick through a shopping site?’

  Marilyn nodded.

  ‘But you understand, Tomás,’ Dr Klimek continued, ‘that you’re going to have to pick a new postcode soon. Officially you’re not alive, your documents say you’re not alive. Only you, your GP and those most closest to you know otherwise. We can arrange for you to live as Mr Tomás Gabino, but a somewhat underground Tomás Gabino, until you read about this procedure in the papers, at least.’

  ‘I understand. It’s time for me and Marilyn to leave space at home anyway. We were looking at places before I became ill.’

  ‘Remember also Mr Gabino, your participation in all this thus far means you cannot share any of this with anyone else at the present time. You and Marilyn could feel the burden and the consequences, having signed. Not to be flippant, but people would just laugh at you before any other thought anyway.

  ‘...So, that’s the heavy stuff over. First and foremost, though, I’m glad you’re alive and happy. I just want you to remain that way.’ he extended a hand.

  ‘Doctor, I’m willing to clean your floors for the rest of my life for this.’ he shook it.

  ‘That would be a waste.’ he laughed. ‘Right, I’ll go and find the Professor and we’ll see if we can get you rolling out of here right away.’

  ‘Thank you.’ said Alberto.

  ‘No need for that.’ Dr Klimek left the room.

  ‘I’m going to need to sleep and wake again to make sure that this isn’t some dying hallucination. I still feel, sort of weird, but not weird as on those old pills... I’m pissed that I gave away all my stuff now. Really.’

  ‘Oh no, what a problem!’ laughed Alberto.

  ‘I can’t wait to hit my own mattress.’

  Marilyn lightly scratched at her arm.

  ‘I hope I made the right decision. To stay alive like this. Mum?’

  ‘Mamma sometimes be wrong.’ she rubbed her eyes.

  Tomás sighed as Alberto paced the floor. Marilyn and Estela stood in their spots. Their postures dropped as minutes passed.

  Prof Barber knocked and entered. Drs Klimek and Goldberg followed behind. The latter walked up to Tomás and shook his hand roughly.

  ‘I just had to shake your hand, Tom.’

  ‘Well, it’s not mine, but it’s close enough, eh?’

  Dr Goldberg nodded and smiled. Dr Klimek handed a taped pharmacy paper bag with a stapled note to Marilyn then threw a full-covering gown on Tomás’s bed.

&n
bsp; ‘It’s clear to see you’re not suffering.’ said Prof Barber. ‘So, I’m happy to say that you can all go home. I’ve signed you out. Transport will be here in not long, they’re going to lead you out in a wheelchair with your head blanketed, just for precaution.

  ‘I’ve printed an appointment for you and you should follow the medications as written on the label.’ he then stood straight, posturing as if an on-camera politician. ‘I must praise you all for not letting this die as a dream. You have just proved what was for so many years just an idea.’

  ‘We are more grateful, Professor.’ said Alberto.

  ‘We see. But is not over.’

  ‘If you do have any problems, don’t hesitate to contact me directly. But I mean contact only if you do have proper problems. I’m a busy man about to get busier. You have my number. Is there anything you’d like to say before we go?’

  ‘Any way I can thank the original makers of my new body?’

  ‘You must be joking.’ replied Prof Barber.

  ‘Just there.’ pointed Alberto on the closing seconds of their journey home. The driver swerved and turned off his engine.

  Tomás looked through the dark mesh back seat window beside Marilyn. His house was half lit by a street lamp. Neighbours’ windows were dark. Air hit Tomás as Alberto got out and slammed the door. Opening the back, Tomás lent him a shoulder to pull on. The women then wriggled down the beige leather. The driver’s mesh-dotted head soon nodded in their direction as the car hummed off.

  ‘Home sweet home, I guess.’ said Tomás. He shuffled forward.

  Alberto fumbled in his pocket and unlocked the door. Inside, Tomás felt for the light switch. He scanned the hallway. Alberto helped him negotiate his first steps.

  ‘I’m dying for a warm mug, Mum. Maybe living’s the right word!’

  Estela nodded. She walked into the kitchen. Gus ran up to Marilyn who went to hang her coat. She bent and patted his head. The dog looked up at Tomás and walked towards him. With Alberto’s hand still on his shoulder, Tomás slowly crouched to pat Gus. The dog licked its lips and appeared to consider the gesture before following Marilyn inside.

  ‘Think he’s got a sixth sense?’ asked Tomás.

  Alberto laughed. ‘That dumb thing, my boy?’ he ushered Tomás forward.

  The glowing, transparent blue kettle hissed as condensation formed on the indicator. Estela put slices in the toaster. Alberto pulled back a table chair facing Marilyn. He gently eased Tomás down. Gus briefly pole danced around a table leg to settle beside Tomás. The dog stared.

  ‘Gus. It’s me, new skin!’ he smiled.

  Gus blinked.

  ‘Ah, what’s the use.’ he sighed. ‘All he knew for a little while was a collapsing, bleeding, sweating version of me. Just has to accept this new guy.’

  Marilyn coughed. She accessed yesterday’s newspaper. Her eyes seemed to dart through the text. Tomás adjusted his gown. He put his hands on the table as Estela brought out butter.

  ‘You don’t think you need to go back do you, son?’ Alberto leant forward. ‘Once my mother came out too early. She had to go back as soon as she got in.’

  ‘Apart from missing my pillow there, I’m sweet. I can’t believe I’m in this kitchen and nothing’s keeping me from enjoying sitting here.’

  ‘Good, good.’ he smiled. ‘Damn, I thought I’d feel cold at this new you first. But the way you move, what you say... I still believe, son.’

  The kettle began to bubble. Estela stood by it.

  ‘Today you feel like nice guest. Three, four days, then maybe. You look bit like, what, vagabond? Sound like.’

  ‘Yeah, I look like I escaped from the funny farm in this gown too.’ he laughed. ‘My ass is freezing on this wood.’

  ‘Don’t worry about that.’ said Marilyn. ‘I’ll pick you some stuff before it gets busy. I, I need to look at something for me too anyway.’

  ‘No hurry, no hurry. I’m not waking up for breakfast TV.’

  The kettle clicked. Estela slowly poured it into different coloured mugs.

  ‘So,’ said Alberto, ‘you’re alive and all we are doing is drinking tea.’ he laughed.

  ‘Is not over, Alberto.’ Estela tore open the pharmacy bag. She pulled out two transparent sepia pill containers and one clear bottle with a lime-coloured liquid. Examining them on the counter with a look of effort she pressed and turned the cap of one container.

  ‘Eh, this in night. The other in... Let me see, morning. And syrup, one five milli spoon in morning too.’

  ‘Oh jeez. Let me just enjoy tonight, Mum!’

  ‘No, oh jeez me!’ she banged a pill before him. ‘Start tomorrow and all this you do for what?’

  Estela stirred the mugs and picked up the toast. Alberto helped her bring them to the table.

  Roughly fourteen clock ticks provided the cue for unison sipping and munching in otherwise dead silence.

  Tomás brushed his hands on the plate. Marilyn looked at the open butter carton. It was speckled with crumbs.

  ‘Agh!’ pierced Marilyn. She lifted the butter knife from his plate and scooped a wad of crumbed butter. ‘Why? I told you about this!’ she huffed.

  Tomás giggled.

  ‘If only they put manner in you.’ Estela touched his face across the table. She quickly retracted and tutted. ‘Your face, it is like hedgehog.’

  He nodded.

  ‘Oh, what a day.’ Alberto raised his arms and yawned.

  ‘Same.’ said Tomás. He watched Marilyn look down and scratch her neck. ‘I’m going up, stay down a while if you like.’

  ‘Need a hand, my boy?’

  ‘I’m a big boy now. A bit bigger. If you hear a bang then you can come up.’ he laughed.

  ‘Tomás!’ shouted Estela. ‘Don’t speak like this.’

  ‘Chill, Mum.’ he walked out. His haggard footsteps sounded muffled on the stair carpet.

  ‘I’m going to give Gus his bowl then I must go too, my dear.’ Alberto walked over to Marilyn and patted her back. He pulled a foil packet from a cupboard. Gus responded as if it were his remote control.

  Estela began to clear the table. Marilyn tried to assist.

  ‘No, darling. You had long day. I be done in jiffy.’

  ‘Honestly...’ she decided not to persist.

  Estela smiled.

  Marilyn walked out and placed one foot on a step, her body weight eased on the floor. Briefly looking back at the golden-lit frosted glass of the kitchen door she slowly eased herself up the stairs. At the top she heard the floor creak. Their bedroom door was slightly ajar. The ruffle of covers cued her in.

  ‘Alright?’ he asked. His padded chest was lit by the bedside lamp. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t hug you tonight or anything... Sore.’

  He watched her remove her shoes and sit on the bed’s edge. Tomás breathed out and turned on his side. He shut his eyes tight. She looked back at him then at the door. Biting her lip, she bent down to remove her socks. Tomás listened to her get up and open and close the cupboard. This was followed by the peeling of clothes and sliding into pyjamas. The mattress shook as she slipped in. He turned and saw her back. Turning back to his side, he breathed in.

  ‘We should go looking at places later tomorrow.’ he said to his familiar window view. ‘I’ll go on your computer, put up my CV.’

  ‘Allow yourself some luxury!’ she faced the ceiling. ‘Just keep it simple for now, okay?’

  ‘I can do more with this body than just load it with calories. I’m sick of being cooped up now, you know? Who knows when I next eye the reaper?’

  ‘Ah, cut the sourness.’ she briefly looked at him. ‘They said this body passed tests. Lighting doesn’t always strike twice.’

  ‘Same thing with winning the lottery. But that happened to someone.’

  ‘It’s late, Tomás. There’s a new day for your joker talk.’ she turned back. ‘Wake me if you feel odd.’

  ‘Listen. It’s understandable it’s going to take time for us to, you know, like
a husband and wife do. So, say whatever you feel. Talk show couples resolve worse stuff. I think.’ he nuzzled against his pillow.

  ‘Tomás. This day has just been immense. That’s all.’

  He adjusted himself once more and turned off his lamp.

  6

  The sound of curtain scraping woke Tomás next morning. Estela patted his shoulder. He was in the forearm-on-head position.

  ‘You comfy like baby, ah?’

  He put down his arm and looked beside him to see a dimpled whirlpool of bed sheet.

  ‘She not wait go looking at clothes. Any excuse.’ she tutted.

  ‘Oh... Leave it, Mum. I’ll come down, just let me enjoy another minute.’

  ‘I help you.’ she tugged his covers.

  ‘Mum. No, don’t. Those days are over.’ he pulled them back.

  ‘I hope she pick right sizes.’ she backtracked. ‘She not bother measure!’

  ‘She’s never wrong.’ he yawned. ‘Even when I go myself and to a changing room, I often realise it doesn’t really fit when I get home. The journey there seems to shrink my waist. Or if I eat loads of junk first, the opposite.’

  Estela nodded and left. A few false starts later he got up and walked to the cupboard. Draped on a hanger was a navy gown with a repeating Eastern teardrop pattern.

  ‘Man, this used to be a bit loose on me.’ he tied the gown tight and glanced at his small row of footwear before shutting the cupboard.

  Downstairs he found a multicoloured array of breakfast. A pill and a filled plastic spoon of lime liquid were neatly arranged. He picked up the spoon and sucked the large oval side. He scrunched his face, quickly following it with the pill and a swig of juice. As he sat, the door opened. Estela let Gus in.

  ‘I go do vac clean.’

  Tomás nodded. Cornflakes rattled into his bowl.

  Gus looked at Tomás the same way as the night before. The dog then took a few steps backward.

  ‘Come on, man, I’m Tomás. Me, Tomás!’ he poured his milk and crunched his first spoonful.

  Gus let out a growl resembling a motorbike starting.

  ‘Mum didn’t fill your bowl?’

  Gus barked.

  Tomás got up and walked to the cupboard beside the fridge. Gus followed and kept growling.

  ‘Just wait! Jeez!’