Read Promise Me Eternity Online

Authors: Ian Fox

Tags: #eternity, #ian, #promese me eternity, #ian fox, #fox, #promese, #fox ian

Promise Me Eternity (3 page)

And since the neighbors’ house had not been
insured, the next day Simon was forced to take another mortgage on
his own house so that he could pay for a new house to be built for
his neighbors and then furnish it. After that, not much was left
from his salary, and Helen was never able to come to terms with
this.

“Last year was especially hard. You know that
Dr. Langston resigned right before our vacation. That’s why
everything had to be rescheduled.”

“And what about the year before? Who resigned
that year, Simon? I’m fed up with all your damned excuses. Every
year someone quits the hospital and then everyone else has to
suffer. It’ll never change!”

“I can’t help it, Helen. Medford’s just a
small Oregon town. All the good surgeons run off to Washington
State or some big city. Hospitals pay better there.”

Now he had really set her off. She grabbed an
empty glass, filled it with water, and drank it down in one go.
“And who asked you to stay in Medford?”

“But you were born in Medford, and I’m not
used to living in a big city, either.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You’ve told me a hundred
times. I always wanted to live in New York, but no, you insist on
staying here in Medford. It’s so much more peaceful, you said,
we’ll have more time for ourselves. Well, damn it, Simon. Do we
really have more time?”

“Listen, Helen. Why can’t we have a normal
conversation anymore? Why do we always have to argue?”

“Who’s arguing? I’m not. We’re having a
conversation.” She lowered her voice. “I only wanted to tell you
that it’s not like you said it would be. You said we’d have more
time and more money. But where’s the money, Simon? We’re still
paying for that stupid idea of yours …”

Just a little longer,
he thought. He
dove into the spaghetti, eating as fast as he could. He couldn’t
wait to get back to the basement. He said to her, “My dear, I’m on
the brink of an incredible discovery. If it works, I’ll be the
richest man in the world. I need a few more months.”

She brushed back the hair that had fallen in
front of her eyes. “You said the same thing five years ago when you
bought that microscope. We could have bought another car, but no,
you had to blow the money on a microscope.” She let out a silly
laugh. “You promised to take me on wonderful trips, you promised me
a carefree life. … So tell me, Simon, why should I have to take the
bus to work?”

There was no point in saying anything. His
wife had no grasp of science. He looked at her face and wondered
when she had become so old. When she yelled at him, the lines
around her mouth became even more pronounced, as if she wanted to
use her jaw muscles to underscore her resentment. Nevertheless, he
still found her very beautiful.

Helen worked at a beauty salon called Sophia,
in downtown Medford. She was an excellent stylist and her customers
kept coming back to her. She especially liked the wealthy ones, who
boasted about their luxurious lifestyle, but this of course only
made her more bitter and resentful toward Simon, who when they were
young had promised to give her all sorts of wonderful things.

Simon had become accustomed to ignoring her
constant complaining. Over the years he learned to shut her out and
let his thoughts take him somewhere else.
Why isn’t Dorothy
feeling well? What could I have done wrong?
He decided to
review all his notes one more time.
I must have slipped up
somewhere. Unless this is a reaction?

“Are you even listening to me?”

He pushed his empty plate away and stood up
from the table. “I have to go. My work is waiting for me.”

“You’re not having more?”

“No. No, thanks.”

And in a flash, he darted off to the
laboratory.

 

As he looked through his notes, he kept
glancing at the rabbit. She sat there peacefully, twitching her
long ears. The carrot lay in front of her, untouched.

He could feel himself succumbing to
depression, and he knew this was a mistake. He should not let
himself get attached to the animals he used for experiments. He
shouldn’t even have given them names. But he had been sure the
vaccine would work this time.

Previously, he had always done his
experiments on rats, which eventually died. Some of them lived only
a few days, others a month or so, but none of them had lived longer
than three months. When he gave them the previous version of the
vaccine, he thought they seemed much livelier, and the initial data
indicated that the aging process had stopped. He waited three
months and decided it was time to try the vaccine on Dorothy. The
idea was that he would give her eternal life.

He stared at his notebook for three hours,
making endless calculations. He wanted to be sure there were no
mistakes in his figures. The percentages of the individual
components were crucial, and it was here that there could be a
slip-up.

He then picked up a large needle and opened
the metal cage. “There, there,” he told her, “this is going to hurt
only a little.”

Using a biopsy needle with a diameter of more
than a millimeter, he took a sample of muscle tissue. He placed it
on a small rectangular piece of clear glass and pressed another
piece of glass on top of it.

“Hmm. … Now, that’s strange. Not very
encouraging.” He didn’t like what he saw. He looked at the rabbit
sadly and hoped everything would be alright. Then, stretching his
arms, he decided it was time for bed.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 5

_______________________

 

 

 

Jerry Duncan spent more than an hour prepping
and cooking supper. He then went into the bedroom and took off his
T-shirt and pants and placed them in the closet. He glanced in the
mirror on the closet door, checking the fat around his waist.
Concerned about his looks, Jerry tried to run the track at a nearby
sports field at least twice a week. He saw a slim young man with a
strong build and he smiled with satisfaction.

Grabbing a fresh pair of underwear and a
towel, he slipped into the bathroom to take a shower. He had just
lathered up when he heard the front door closing. He quickly rinsed
the soap off and patted himself down with the towel.

“Hi there, baby,” he said, meeting Anita in
the kitchen, and planted a wet kiss on her lips. He had wrapped the
cotton towel around his waist, and a few drops of water still
glistened on his back.

“Hi,” she replied as she lifted the lids off
the pots. “What did you fix us tonight?”

“Veal with rice and veggies.”

She sniffed the steam whirling in the air and
nodded in satisfaction. “Smells good. I’m going to use the bathroom
now. I’ll be about ten minutes.”

“You go ahead, and I’ll put some clothes on.”
He was already in the bedroom, where he pulled on a pair of blue
sweat pants and a white T-shirt. He looked in the mirror one more
time and gave himself a confident wink. How lucky he was to have
met Anita, the woman of his dreams.

This had happened about a year ago. Before
that, he would never have imagined himself falling in love with a
co-worker. He’d had a firm rule about keeping his private life
separate from work. But now he felt differently. It made him so
happy that they could wake up together in the morning, drive to the
hospital in the same car, and even work in the same operating room.
It felt as if Anita Carter had become a part of him, he loved her
so much.

“I say, let’s eat. You agree, dear?” She wore
a bathrobe and her long black hair was gathered into a
ponytail.

Glowing with happiness, Jerry took two plates
and placed them on the round table in the dining room, followed by
the silverware, two glasses, and a bottle of wine. On each plate he
placed a veal steak and added a fist-sized mound of rice.

Anita sat down at the table, but her thoughts
were elsewhere.

Jerry, too, sat down and picked up his fork,
saying,
“Bon appétit.”


Bon appétit,” she
replied.
“You forgot the saltshaker. You know I always add a
little salt to my meat.”

He immediately put down the fork and ran to
the kitchen. When he came back, he said, “Here you go.”

“You’re so sweet. I don’t know what I’d do
without you.”

He poured them each a glass of red wine.

He had just sat down when she said, “Honey,
since you’re up, could you hand me the dishcloth? I spilled a
little wine.”

Again he stood up and went to get the
dishcloth, which lay on top of the sideboard in the kitchen. He
stood there a moment. “Need anything else?”

“No, dear, that’s all. You should sit down
and eat. Your supper’s getting cold.”

He nodded obediently and sat down opposite
her. He cut off a piece of meat and lifted it toward his mouth.

“There’s something we have to talk
about.”

“Oh?” He put the fork down on his plate.
“What’s that?”

“What we were talking about today at
lunch.”

Glumly, he started chewing the meat. “Oh,
that.”

“I really think you need to talk to
Patterson. You can’t be an assistant forever. Don’t you agree?”

“I don’t know. Patterson’s so rough on me. I
always have the feeling—”

“That’s only because you let him treat you
like that. You don’t believe in yourself enough, that’s all. You
need to assert yourself. Talk to him.”

“I’d rather let it wait a while. Maybe
another year.”

“Oh, no, no! That’s a big mistake. Listen to
what I’m saying. Where’s the harm in talking to him? At least then
you’ll know where you stand. They can’t keep leading you by the
nose forever. Besides, they need you. You know better than anyone,
there aren’t enough surgeons in the hospital, let alone
neurosurgeons. They can’t afford to lose you. All you need to do is
threaten a little that you might leave ….”

Some rice had gotten stuck in his throat. He
picked up the dishcloth and coughed into it. “I don’t know. Maybe I
will talk to him.”

“There you go! I have no doubt you’ll
succeed. You mustn’t let other people walk all over you in life.
You have to stand up for yourself. Only then will they really
respect you.”

Though angry at her for forcing the issue, he
wondered,
What if it’s true? What if money is the only reason
they don’t want to promote me? If that’s the case, then I really
should talk to Patterson.

When they had eaten, he put the dirty dishes
in the dishwasher and turned it on. Anita stretched out on the sofa
and started pressing the buttons on the remote. “There’s nothing
worth watching on TV.”

He lay down next to her and embraced her. He
rested his head gently on her shoulder. Then he raised himself up,
looked at her with longing, and slipped his right hand inside her
robe.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she
snapped. “Get your hand away!”

He kissed her on the neck and stroked her
belly. “What if we went to bed instead?”

“Bed? What, now?” She shifted her neck away
from his lips. “It’s way too early, honey. Plus, I’m not in the
best mood. I’ve got a headache coming on.”

His hand froze. Gritting his teeth, he slowly
withdrew it. “We haven’t made love in over five days, Anita. Is
anything wrong?”

She kissed him on the eyes, cheeks, lips.
“Nothing is wrong, darling. But really, I’m just not in the mood.
What else can I say?” Again she switched channels. “I don’t know
why we pay for cable when there’s never anything worth
watching.”

Jerry Duncan suppressed his disappointment.
“Can I get you anything to drink?”

“You’re so sweet. I’ll have another glass of
wine.”

He leaped up and went to the refrigerator.
When he had put the glass on the coffee table and again settled
himself next to her, she said, “Would you mind getting me a Coke
too? I think I’d like a drink. What do you say?”

Again, he stood up and went to get the
Coca-Cola.

“Finally, something worth watching!” She had
found an interesting adventure movie. “Honey, hurry up or you’ll
miss the beginning.”

Lying together on the sofa, they watched the
movie.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 6

_______________________

 

 

 

Dr. Brad Horras, the director of Medford
Central Hospital, was sitting in a big, black leather armchair,
examining the previous month’s expense records. While staring at
the numbers, he had his glasses perched on the tip of his nose, his
forehead deeply furrowed. He didn’t like what he saw. The expenses
were way over budget.

Dr. Horras was a decisive man in his sixties
who never gave an inch where his principles were concerned. Several
times a day he’d look at himself in the mirror and comb his thick
gray hair. Though hardly young anymore, he was nonetheless
satisfied with how he looked. He had a strong chin and wide,
piercing eyes.

A knock at his office door startled him.
“Come in,” he said automatically. He ran his hands over his temples
and wondered who would be disturbing him at this time of day. “Oh,
it’s you, Simon. What can I do for you?”

“Good morning. I’m sorry to bother you,” Dr.
Patterson said. “I know you’re very busy.”

Dr. Horras let out a long exhalation and
nodded with a slight frown.

Simon didn’t know how to begin, so he jumped
in. “I’ve mentioned a few times before that I’m interested in
pathology research. I set up a small laboratory in my basement and
I think I’m on the brink of a big discovery.”

Brad Horras rested his head on his right
hand. He knew exactly what Simon Patterson wanted to tell him.
Simon had already told the director at least three times about
wanting to devote himself entirely to research and stop doing brain
surgery. And each time Dr. Horras had rejected the idea. He simply
could not afford to lose such a capable neurosurgeon.

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