The Art of Forgetting (39 page)

              “What the hell is that?” asked Sean.

              “The hippocampus is a structure deep in the brain. It plays a key role in the regulation of memory. Lars Hallman has been tinkering with the idea of electrically stimulating the hippocampus to counteract memory loss.”

              “A sort of pacemaker for the brain,” Erin said.

              “Exactly,” Lloyd said.

              “Who the hell would want to have their brain shocked?” asked Sean.

              “There are nearly thirty million people worldwide who suffer from Alzheimer’s disease,” Lloyd said. “It’s the sixth leading cause of death in the United States and the only one in the top ten that has no form of prevention or cure. And I haven’t even touched on other forms of dementia and memory loss.”

              “The prospects for profit are simply astounding,” Bennett said.

              “So are you saying that Cardio-Prime acquired this DynaStim outfit?” Sean asked Bennett.

              “Well, no…” Bennett said with a sardonic smile.

              “I tell you,” Sean said, “it’s like pulling teeth with this guy. Just spit it out, Stu.”

              “This is where we cross into the realm of information that is not for public consumption. Information that should be unbeknownst even to me – except that nothing in this industry is unbeknownst to me. So let’s talk in terms of a hypothetical.”

              “More song and dance,” Sean said.

              “Imagine that you knew that a large corporation was about to purchase an unknown company with few assets but a huge potential,” Bennett said.

              “You could stand to make a pretty penny,” Sean said.

              “A fortune. Don’t even think about it, Kennedy,” Bennett said. “You wouldn’t look so charming in those jail pajamas.”

              “That would be considered insider trading,” Lloyd said.

              “It is the very definition of insider trading,” Bennett said.

              “Well that’s got to be it,” Lloyd said. “Lasko divested in Cardio-Prime and dumped the money into DynaStim. And now he’s trying to protect his investment by blocking my research.”

              “You said the name was George Lasko?” Bennett asked. Lloyd nodded. Bennett got to his feet. “Please excuse me. I think I rather need a breath of fresh air.”

              Bennett pulled open a glass screen door and stepped onto the patio that was framed by a strip of perfectly trimmed lawn, and just beyond that, a row of stately sugar maples. Lloyd saw that Bennett took out his phone and started talking into it, taking an occasional goose step and turning on his heels in what looked like a strange mating dance for birds.

              “You guys want a cappuccino?” Sean asked.

              “Not me,” Erin said.

              “Lloyd?”

              “No thanks.”

              “Vanessa made me get this fancy integrated coffee system,” Sean said. “Cost me three-thousand bucks. And I can’t get anybody to drink coffee.”

              Lloyd smiled. He recognized the mannerisms, the facial expressions of his childhood friend and felt a tinge of melancholy.

              The sliding glass door opened and Bennett stepped back in, his brow furrowed.

              “Everything alright?” Sean asked.

              “A reliable source – and no, Sean, please don’t ask – informs me that there is no George Lasko in the directory of investors at DynaStim,” Bennett said. He stepped up to the table and rested his fingertips on the surface. “Sorry,” he added.

              Lloyd looked at Erin with a pinched expression. Erin caressed his cheek. “I’m so sorry, Lloyd.”

              “It’s not your fault,” Lloyd said.

              “When’s this trial thing going to take place?” Sean asked.

              “Tomorrow afternoon,” Lloyd said.

              “Damn!” Sean said. “Well, if this doctor gig doesn’t work out for you, I can always use a clerk. You look swell in that suit. That’s half the job requirement right there.”

              Lloyd smiled. “Thanks, Sean.”

              Bennett extracted a nickel plated case from the inside breast pocket of his blazer and extracted a business card. He handed it to Lloyd and said, “If I might be of any further assistance, please don’t hesitate to give me a jingle.” Lloyd looked at the card. It was of expensive stock with gold lettering that simply read,
Stewart Bennett, Esq
., along with a phone number.

              “Well, won’t you look at the time?” Sean said. “You kids really should get going.”

              “Are you trying to get rid of us?” Erin asked.

              Sean erupted in a nervous laugh. “Not at all. It’s just that… I got some dry-cleaning to pick up,” he said with a wide grin, rolling on his heels.

              “Is your brother always this thrilled about his laundry?” Bennett asked Erin.

              “I have no idea,” Erin said.

              Chapter 43

             
O
n the drive back to Oak Park, Erin’s countenance wavered between expressions of defeat to bursts of outrage. Lloyd tried to act relaxed though inside his chest his heart pounded so hard he could feel a thumping in his ears. He kept glancing at his wrist watch to check the time.

              “I can’t believe this is happening,” Erin said. “It’s all so unfair. Lasko set you up, didn’t he?”

              “I don’t know,” Lloyd said. “Something doesn’t quite add up.”

              “It adds up for me. Lasko’s a crook. End of story.” She reached over and put a hand on Lloyd’s knee. After a minute of silence she said, “What if you lose your job?”

              “How would you feel about that?” Lloyd asked.

              “I’d feel horrible, of course.”

              “How would you feel about me?”

              Erin squeezed his knee. “I didn’t fall in love with the doctor. I fell in love with the man.”

              “For the sake of full disclosure, I need to tell you something,” Lloyd said. Erin turned to face him. “Not too long ago, I met a man, a very, very ill man. His wife asked me to help him and I wanted to but I wasn’t sure that I could. You see, I had to be sure that the treatment wouldn’t hurt him even worse.”

              “First do no harm…” Erin said. “So what did you do?”

              “I really wanted to help him.” Lloyd paused, opened his mouth to speak but stopped.

              “Lloyd?”

              “I injected myself with the prions,” Lloyd said.

              “You what?”

              “I had to be sure I wouldn’t hurt him. It was my responsibility.”

              “Jesus Lloyd!”

              “For once in my life, I wanted to put someone else’s welfare above my own. This was my opportunity.”

              Erin closed her eyes. She wiped a tear off her cheek with the back of her hand.

              “Do you think I’m reckless?” Lloyd asked.

              “No, Lloyd,” Erin said. “I think you’re brave. I think you’re the bravest man I’ve ever known.”

              Lloyd checked his wrist watch once more. Then he squeezed her hand. “How about a drive through the old neighborhood?” he said.

              They drove past their former homes on North Mason, the front yards littered with bicycles, the buckling sidewalk marked by graffiti in colored chalk. A man in spandex shorts walked a Labrador while his wife in baggy sweat pants pushed a three-wheeled stroller. The neighborhood looked utterly familiar and yet felt strangely foreign.

              The elementary school didn’t look quite as small as Erin thought it would and this made her sad. Finally, Lloyd made a U-turn and headed for the little league field. He parked the car so they could stroll by the playground.

              “Well, this place sure brings back the memories,” Erin said.

              “You have no idea,” Lloyd said.

              “I want to go on the swings,” Erin said.

              “I thought you would.”

              They were walking past the concession stand, a wooden shack behind home plate with a recently painted sign that read,
The Dugout Café
. A tall blonde in a Cubs jersey stood behind the counter counting a pile of coins that a boy in a soiled T-shirt had just plopped onto the wooden ledge. She looked up and smiled at Lloyd.

              “Wait a minute,” Lloyd said. “I want to get something.”

              After the boy left with a handful of candy, Lloyd stepped up to the counter and asked, “Do you have any Cracker Jacks?”

              “Hmm. Let me check in the back.” The blonde left and returned almost immediately. “It’s your lucky day. I have just one box left.”

              “How much is that?”

              “This one’s on the house,” she said with a gleaming smile.

              Lloyd widened his eyes. “Gee, thanks.”

              They paced towards the swings. Lloyd tore open the lid of the box. He held the box out towards Erin. She looked at it out the corner of her eyes, her lips pinched in a pout. Lloyd gave the box a shake. She reached in the box, took out a handful of Cracker Jacks and said, “
This one’s on the house!
” in a high pitched nasal voice.

              Lloyd stopped in his tracks and laughed.

              “What? You
know
she was flirting with you.”

              “So, you’re jealous,” Lloyd said.

              “Shut up, Lloyd!” She tossed the Cracker Jacks in her mouth and reached over for another handful.

              They reached the swings and sat on them. A little league game was in full swing on the field in front of them. The air was filled with the screams of overzealous parents whose voices carried like the jeers of huffy grackles. A red headed boy in the outfield held up his mitt to shade his eyes as he craned his neck back to look at the contrails of a high-flying jet.

              “I got Cracker Jacks stuck between my teeth,” Erin said.

              “It’ll come out,” Lloyd said.

              Erin looked at him. “You’re awfully relaxed, you know, all things considered.”

              “Are you kidding? I’ve never been so nervous in my life,” Lloyd said.

              Erin reached in the box again. “No matter what happens, Lloyd…”

              “No matter what happens, what?”

              She chewed on the popcorn and watched a pony tailed girl make it to first base as the red-headed outfielder bobbled an easy grounder.

              “Anyway, it’s not the tribunal that I’m nervous about right now,” Lloyd said. He glanced at his wrist watch yet again.

              “You need to go somewhere?” Erin asked.

              “Not yet.”

              Erin rolled her eyes.

              “You know, I remember that day when we were kids,” Lloyd said. Erin stopped chewing. “I remember what I told you when you were crying because they didn’t let you play for the little league team.”

              Erin shaded her brow with her hand and studied his expression. “Yeah?  Well let’s hear it.”

              “I told you that if I ever had a baseball team, I’d make you the pitcher.” He swallowed. “And that one day I’d marry you on the pitcher’s mound at Wrigley Field.”

              “It’s still the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” Erin said with a wistful smile. “How did you remember?” She glimpsed at his lips. “Oh. So they really work.”

              “I hope you don’t consider that cheating.”

              “It is. Still I’m glad you remember.” She turned to look back at the baseball game. “So what about that family curse?”

              Lloyd filled his chest with a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I ducked that bullet. Let’s say the curse has been lifted. I just hope it’s not too late.”

              “Too late for what?”

              Lloyd shook the box. “Look,” he said. “It’s the prize.” He held the box out in front of Erin. “Go ahead, open it.”

              Erin reached into the box and extracted the paper package that seemed bulkier than it should have been. She shot Lloyd a suspicious glance.

              “What are you waiting for?” Lloyd said.

              Erin tore open the package and her jaw dropped. She reached inside the paper wrapper with her thumb and index finger and extracted a glittering ring: a sapphire set in white gold – Ellen Copeland’s ring.

              “Please explain this to me,” she said.

              Lloyd shrugged casually but was unable to suppress a smile. “I don’t know. I guess the prizes have gotten a lot better since we were kids.”

              Erin shook her head. “I can’t keep this.”

              “The ring fits you. My mother was so happy to see it on your finger. I want you to have it. It’s yours, no matter what.”

              “What do you mean, no matter what?”

              “No matter what you say to what I’m about to ask you.” Erin stiffened. “Listen Erin, I’m a wretch. My whole life I’ve never thought of anyone but myself. I felt entitled to trample over other people’s feelings because there were some feelings I denied myself. But now I see how wrong I was and I understand the hurt I must have caused.” He paused for a moment. “Look, there’s a good chance that tomorrow I’ll lose my job… or worse. I have nothing to offer, do you understand?”

              “Just pop the damn question already,” Erin said.

              Lloyd got up from the swing, stood in front of her and said, “Erin.”

              He started to genuflect when Erin said, “Not on your knees. I never want to see you on your knees.” She also rose to her feet.

              Lloyd smiled and bowed his head slightly.  He looked up again and said, “Erin, will you marry me?”

              She studied him with her eyes and took several deep breaths. “Somehow I always knew we’d end up together.” She nodded. “Yes Lloyd, I’ll marry you.”

              She plopped the ring in Lloyd’s hand and he slipped it on her finger. They kissed a shy, tentative kiss.

              “Will you marry me now?” he asked.

              She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I already said yes, you dope.”

              “Yeah but, will you marry me
now
?”

              She released her grasp and peered into his eyes. “What do you mean,
now
?”

              Chapter 44

             
L
loyd was asked to wait outside the Dean’s library. He took a seat on the cloth sofa next to Martin Bender who kept rubbing his palms on his pant legs and looking about the administrative suite with ratcheting jerks of his head.

              Bender scanned Lloyd with a weary smile. “It’s not too late to take the deal,” he said.

              Lloyd put a hand on Bender’s knee. “Relax, Uncle Marty.”

              A few minutes later the door to the Dean’s library opened. The same secretary that had taken notes at the IRB meetings stepped in the doorway and said, “They’re ready for you now.”

              Lloyd and Bender got to their feet and stepped into the room. Erin was sitting a couple of chairs away from George Lasko. She managed a slim smile and winked at Lloyd then glanced over at Lasko who maintained his gaze fixed on a stack of papers in front of him.

              Lloyd and Bender took a seat directly across the table from Lasko. Lloyd lay his backpack on the table, zipped it open and pulled out a plastic water bottle. At the head of the table sat Dr. Harlan Fisk, the surgeon who had fought so gallantly to preserve the Southern Style fried chicken in the cafeteria as if the honor of the great South were on the line. He wore surgical scrubs under a denim jacket and maintained a steady scowl that seemed to have been chiseled onto his rugged face at an early age.