In the Image of Grace (14 page)

“I bet he has food poisoning,” Isabelle
concluded.

“I’ll wait in the car,” Jeremy volunteered from
underneath his hair.

“You sure? Do you need medical attention?” I asked
very concerned. He really didn’t look well at all.

“I’ll be good,” he responded wrapping his arms around
his stomach. “Perhaps sleep will help.”

“All right,” I said as I unbuckled my seat belt. I
then leaned in and kissed the back of his head.

“Go on,” he urged reaching up and putting his clammy
hand on my cheek.

“You sure,” I queried to his head of hair.

He sat up nodded. “Go.”

I kissed my middle and pointer fingers and then
placed them on his lips. Clarissa, Isabelle and I then got out of
the car and stood across the street from our mother’s parents’
house. It was already starting to get dark out.

“Let’s do this before it gets too late,” I said to my
sisters. We crossed the street and headed for a peach ranch house
with a wooden well for decoration purposes, on the front lawn. We
walked up the paved driveway and stopped about halfway up.

“I don’t see a car, maybe they’re not home,” Clarissa
moaned.

“It’s called a garage Clarissa,” Isabelle
snapped.

“But what if they’re not home?” Clarissa asked
pressing her point.

“We wait,” I replied looking for any life around the
house.

We had the slightest idea what our approach was going
to be. It was obvious that they didn’t want to speak to us, so we
weren’t sure how they were going to react to us showing up at their
house. I figured if they didn’t believe us over the phone in person
should do the trick.

We walked up and I knocked on the front door. We
waited a minute and I knocked again. We then heard some rustling on
the other side of the door. An older Filipino gentleman answered.
His head was full of fluffy graying hair. I immediately recognized
the eyes, the same eyes as our mother and me and my sisters, even
though his eyes were lost in deep set wrinkles, which seemed to of
multiplied when he saw us at the door. He just stood there and
stared at us from the other side of the screen door. I didn’t know
what to do or say, so I gave him a little wave.

“Helen” he screamed after a moment of awkward
silence. “Helen get over here. HELEN!”

Clarissa, Isabelle and I glanced in each others’
direction. Isabelle raised her eyebrows at me and Clarissa’s eyes
darted back and forth from us to Robert Fernando behind the screen
door. After about twenty seconds a short fair skinned woman
appeared at the door. She looked much younger than her husband, for
she didn’t have nearly as many wrinkles on her face, just a few
laugh lines around the eyes and two deeper wrinkles on either side
of her mouth. Her hair was cut in a short bob, white and totally
flat. She took a look at us and immediately collapsed to the
ground.

Robert Fernando bent down next to his wife and fanned
her face. “Helen, Helen,” he called. She didn’t respond. He then
scooped her up in his arms and walked out of our sight.

I opened the screen door, which luckily was unlocked
and we followed him into the house. He placed her on the couch and
then left the room. He came back with a mini purple plastic hand
held fan. He sat on the edge of the couch, turned on the fan and
lightly blew it into her face. The three of us stood in the middle
of the living room and watched it all.

“Will one of you girls go in the kitchen and get her
a glass of water?” Robert Fernando asked over his shoulder.

Isabelle went to find the kitchen. As Isabelle left
Helen opened her eyes.

“What’s going on?” She asked her husband.

“You fainted honey.”

Helen then looked over at Clarissa and me.

“Is this some kind of a joke?” She asked with a scowl
on her face.

I bit my lip and shook my head no. Isabelle came back
with a glass of water and handed it to Robert. Helen sat up on her
elbows.

“I don’t understand,” she said taking the water from
her husband.

“Um, we’re your daughter’s children,” I explained
wringing my hands together.

“That’s not possible,” Helen said sitting all the way
up.

“It’s a pretty bizarre story actually,” I said.

Robert stood up. “Girls have a seat,” he said
pointing to a love seat and lounge chair.

“How’s it bizarre. Where is Grace?”Helen asked.

“We don’t know. That’s part of the reason we came
here. We thought perhaps you could give us some insight and maybe
tell us a little about her. We never knew her,” I said.

“Girls,” said Robert. “How did you find us then?”

“We found your son,” I told them. “He told us where
we could find you.”

“He did call yesterday Robert,” Helen said. She then
stood up and walked over to where we still stood. She walked up to
me and looked me in the eyes. She then reached up and placed her
hand on my face, then drawing it away to cover her mouth turning
away from me. “You look exactly like her,” she gasped into her
hands.

“There’s actually a reason for that,” I pointed
out.

“You’re her daughter that should be good enough
reason,” Helen said walking up to Isabelle and looking at her.

“Technically, we’re her twins.”

“Clones to exact,” Clarissa chimed in.

“No, not that,” Helen cried placing her hands on her
cheeks. “I refuse to believe that.”

“It sounds like somebody has spoke to you about it
before,” I said still wringing my hands.

“Yes, when our son called he told me something along
that line, he said that he skipped out a few details seventeen
years ago to spare us some heartache, but he said that Grace only
told him about one child.”

“We believe she actually only gave birth to one and
then somebody else carried the three of us,” I said realizing it
was all true as I was saying it.

“How many of you are there?” Helen asked.

“There were four and Elizabeth, the one that Grace
actually did carry, recently passed away.”

“I’m so sorry girls. What happened?”

“She killed herself,” I said looking at the
ground.

Helen covered her mouth with her hand. She was
silent. She looked at the three of us and left the room through a
doorway that led into what looked like a hallway.

“Please,” Robert said waving his hand so we would
sit. “Can I get you girls anything?”

“No thank you,” I said. Clarissa and Isabelle both
said the same.

“I’ll see if Helen is okay,” Robert said excusing
himself.

The three of us went and sat side by side on the love
seat. I nervously bounced my knee and tried to pry my hands apart,
but they were still stuck wringing themselves together. As we
waited for the two of them to come back I looked around the living
room. To me, it seemed pretty modern for an older couple. They had
the black leather love seat which we were sitting on and
corresponding couch and arm chair, a flat screen on the wall above
a low, light wood entertainment center holding the electronic
devices that correlated with the TV. The walls were covered in
black and white nature photographs held in black steel frames. The
interior didn’t exactly go with the exterior. From the outside
you’d think their whole house would be cute and country. The three
of us didn’t say anything as we sat there. We just waited. After a
few minutes they came back and Robert was smiling and Helen was
holding what looked like a photo album hugged to her chest.

“I’ll fix us some snacks,” Robert volunteered walking
into the kitchen.

The three of us nodded and smiled. Helen came over
and sat on the coffee table in front of us. It was weird being so
close to her, being so close to somebody I was related to besides
my sisters, the woman that brought our mother into the world. A
scent of clean laundry and spring rolled off of her.

“This is our photo album of your mother. We started
it when she a baby. It chronicles her life.” Helen smiled and
handed it to me.

It was a brown leather bound album with a small
square cut out of the front with a baby picture of our mother. She
had small patches of wispy dark hair and wide happy eyes. We
started flipping through it seeing pictures of her baptism and
first birthday and first stitches.

“She had to get those stitches when she tripped over
her own feet outside on the sidewalk,” Helen said smiling at the
memory.

We went through years of her life. Helen narrated
when appropriate. We saw her first day of school, playing in the
snow and getting the training wheels off her bike. It was all so
sad. Our mother’s life lay out in pictures in front of us and she
was never able to share any of it with us.

“Do you know what happened to her?” I queried as we
were half way through the album.

Helen sucked on her bottom lips and then mouthed
no.

“Can I show you something?” I asked. I wanted to show
her the pamphlet for the Xtials, but I didn’t want to freak her
out. I reached into my jacket and pulled out the tri-folded
paper.

Robert then came back with a tray of snacks and
drinks, placing it on the coffee table next to Helen. I handed
Helen the pamphlet.

“I don’t understand,” she said when she saw her
daughter’s face on the front.

“It’s a fake religion our father started so he can
scam people into investing in his Clonation Foundation.”

Helen looked up. “That sounds familiar,” she said.
“Robert didn’t Grace once say something about that?”

Robert came over and sat on the arm to the loveseat.
“Yes, maybe about a year before she went missing. She said she took
a job there because she could conduct research on therapeutic
cloning, for finding cures to certain diseases. I wasn’t quite sure
what she meant by therapeutic cloning and then she told me that
it’s when you clone embryos, so they can extract the stem cells.”
He paused and rubbed the back of his neck. “I remember I got mad at
her because she quit her job at the university to go work at some
quack pot place. I didn’t support her at all. The creation of life
just to take it away was absurd to me. Granted I know more about it
now, but I wished I was more informed then. Then maybe I could have
supported her.” He stopped and shook his head. “The Clonation
Foundation,” he muttered. “After that we didn’t talk much. My God
do I regret that decision today.”

“That’s where we were made,” I said. “The Clonation
Foundation.”

“I still can’t believe it,” Helen gasped shaking her
head.

“Neither can we,” Clarissa said.

Robert walked to the large picture window that looked
out into the street. “Is that the car you girls came in?”

“Yes,” I responded.

“Do you know that young man near it?”

I suddenly realized I forgot all about Jeremy, what
with everything going on. “That’s our friend. He stayed out there
because he was feeling sick. He might have food poisoning.”

“I think he’s getting sick in the street,” Robert
said. “You might want to invite him in.”

“You sure? It won’t be a bother?” I asked because I
already felt like we kind of ambushed them.

“Go invite that boy in,” Helen urged waving me to get
Jeremy.

“I’ll be right back,” I said standing up and heading
for the front door. I ran across the street where Jeremy was
doubled over standing over a pile that once was his lunch. “Hey,” I
said bending over next to him making sure to avoid his mess.

He turned his head and looked at me. His mouth turned
up into a meek smile.

“You okay?” I asked him.

“At the moment yes, but I think that’s just because I
barfed. I feel as if another wave will come soon. Would you mind
going into the glove box and getting me a napkin?”

“Sure,” I said standing up. I opened the driver side
door and climbed across the seat and opened the glove box. I pulled
out a handful of napkins and emerged from the car. I handed them to
Jeremy. “Come inside with me.”

“Not like this,” he groaned wiping his mouth.

“They told me to invite you in. They saw you getting
sick in the street. They seem really nice.”

“All right, I guess they don’t need somebody vomiting
in front of their neighbor’s house.”

Once inside Robert escorted Jeremy to the bathroom so
he could clean up.

“He’s tall,” Helen noted when the two of them left
the room.

“Yeah, a lot taller than me,” I said.

“Your girls’ shorter stature probably comes from my
side of the family. Is your father short?”

“Actually that isn’t taken into consideration when it
comes to us. Our shortness is from either you or Robert,” Isabelle
stated.

“What do you mean?” Asked Helen.

“Well,” she said, “Since we’re clones we’re an exact
replica of your daughter. Our father had nothing to do with our
creation. We only have her genes.”

“Oh,” Helen said.

“So therefore we’re actually more like her twins, but
in time delay and you are technically our real mother.” Isabelle
waited for a reaction from Helen.

Shock filled Helen’s eyes.

“We are your daughters,” Isabelle said.

Helen’s mouth hung open.

“Can you tell us about her?” I asked Helen. I wasn’t
quite sure if her expression was positive or negative or just
confused, so I wanted to veer the conversation a little.

“Of course,” she said. “What do you girls want to
know?”

“Everything,” Clarissa said piping in.

“She was wonderful, always so bright, brilliant
actually, always at the top of her class, so gentle and kind. She
was a genuinely a good natured person,” Helen said with a smile on
her face remembering her daughter.

Robert came back into the living room. “I’m going to
make Jeremy some tea,” he said. “It might help settle his
stomach.”

“All right dear,” Helen said.

Helen told us more about our mother. She sounded like
a lovely person. Jeremy stayed in the bathroom close to the toilet.
When the tea was done Robert brought him a cup in there. Time went
by quickly. Before I knew it, it was totally dark out, but it was
weird because one minute it was totally dark and the next we saw a
bunch of lights outside the window. The night flickered with red
and yellow.