Wild (12 page)

I pointed at her spoon and she ate her allotted portion.

“This is not a separate question, but could you please elaborate a little.” She gave me a pleading smile.

“What exactly would you like me to elaborate on?” I liked to tease her. I knew exactly what she wanted to know. She was shifting uncomfortably on her bar stool.

“I mean, things like whether you were in love with her,” she said as casually as she could.

Right again.

The woman had just been a casual fling, a blind date one of my colleagues had set me up with. Back then I had been so engrossed in my work I hadn’t had time to form a relationship. During my undergraduate years in college I had been dating a nice girl, but I hadn’t been ready to commit. Once I’d entered Medical School, I had split up with her because my career was more important to me. I hadn’t had a meaningful relationship after that. Flings, yes. One night stands, yes. But no emotional connection with anybody. I had always assumed that once I had established myself in my career I would find the right woman and everything would fall into place. That dream had died with the realization that my transformation would be a constant barrier to forming a true relationship with a woman. Instead, loneliness had become my constant companion during the last thirty years.

“Does it matter?” I was done teasing her. “It’s ancient history. And if it’s any consolation, you’re the only woman who’s ever set foot in my place.” I wanted her to know she was special.

She stared at me, obviously trying to figure out if I was telling the truth.

“The only one?” her voice was just an echo.

I nodded sincerely. “And I’d like to keep it that way.”

I anticipated her next question and answered it before she could ask it. “And I’ve lived here for a long time.”

A very long time.

Her smile was genuine and all the pouting from earlier was suddenly wiped off her face. It was going to be very difficult to keep my hands and my lips off her, I realized. It was only morning and I frankly didn’t know how to make it through the entire day without touching her.

“What is your research about?” She suddenly asked. I hadn’t expected this question. How did she know I was doing research? I had only told her I was a doctor.

“How do you know I’m doing research?” I asked cautiously.

“Well, you have a lab downstairs. Isn’t that where people do research?”

“Oh, the lab, or course.” I figured there was no danger in telling her what research I was doing. I didn’t have to go into the details.

“I’ve been working on finding a switch to turn off the gene which makes people age,” I summarized my thirty-plus years of research.

“Wow.” She seemed genuinely impressed. “You mean, if you found it, we could all stay young forever? Like immortal?”

“Young yes, immortal no. You could still die from diseases or accidents, but your cells wouldn’t age, so you’d look as young as now even if you’re in your sixties.”

Like I.

“And many of the diseases people normally get wouldn’t have the kind of effect on your cells. The younger they are, the easier it would be for them to fight off certain age-related diseases. Of course, other things would still be the same, like cancer or heart disease. But overall, people would live longer and healthier lives.”

She looked at me fascinated.

“Shouldn’t you be eating two spoonfuls for this information?” I smirked.

She did.

“And how far are you with it?”

In a way I was glad I could explain it to her now. It would make it easier on her later when she would find out I had experimented on myself and turned the switch off. It would be one less thing I would have to explain once she started to panic.

“Well, I’ve isolated the gene which controls aging, and I’m trying out different switches.”

“Who are you trying them out on?”

“Mice mostly. They have lots in common with humans, believe it or not.”

I hadn’t spoken to anybody about my work in decades and it felt good to articulate what I was doing even if I couldn’t tell her the whole truth. Not yet, anyway.

“Which reminds me, I have to check on them.” I got off the bar stool and took both our plates to the sink.

“Can I see them?” She surprised me.

“You want to see the mice?”

“Sure. May I?”

I had to lift her off the bar stool and wasn’t quite as fast as earlier when I had lifted her up. She didn’t take advantage, and I enjoyed the few stolen seconds, before she gripped the Zimmer frame.

When we got to the stairs, I looked at her and joked. “Ok. I’m going to carry you down, but don’t try anything funny.”

“No, doc.” She grinned, but kept her word.

Maybe this would work after all. She seemed to have switched out of her seduction mode and decided to be good. At least now I would only have to fight myself and not her too.

While she was in my arms I allowed myself to take in her scent. I had to try to get used to her if I ever wanted to do more than just carry her.

I sat her onto my office chair and pushed her into the mouse room. The lights were already on. I watched her closely as she looked at the wall of cages, and was ready to whisk her out if she freaked at anything.

I scanned the cages quickly. One of the mice was running around erratically, bashing its head into the plastic wall of the cage over and over again. Annette saw it too and threw me a questioning look.

“Side effects. Unfortunately, there are still many problems.” I took some gloves from the bench and walked over to the cage. Before I took the mouse out, I turned back to Annette.

“I’ll have to euthanize it. I don’t think you should watch.”

I carried the struggling mouse to the bench and put it into a holding cage, while I fixed a syringe. I could feel Annette’s eyes on me.

“It won’t feel anything, I promise you.”

I took the mouse and injected it. Within seconds it stopped moving. I sealed the body in a bag and put it into the refrigerator.

“What happened?”

“It’s trial and error. I test hundreds of combinations of compounds to find the one which can eliminate the side effects. This one wasn’t it.”

“What are the side effects?”

“Do you really want to know?” I wasn’t sure I wanted to tell her.

“Yes.”

“A heightening of all senses amongst other things.” I kept is as non-descriptive as possible. It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it wasn’t the entire truth either.

“But is that necessarily a bad thing?” I was surprised at how much she seemed to understand.

“All senses: good or bad.”

“But senses aren’t good or bad, they are just senses,” she argued. I looked at her with surprise. She was smart.

“Maybe I didn’t explain it right. It’s not the senses themselves, it’s what the mouse does with them. A survival instinct could turn into unbridled aggression, like you’ve seen with this mouse. If it goes uncontrolled, the mouse is a danger to itself and others.”

She looked back at me and I could see she understood. While I stripped off my gloves and washed my hands thoroughly, I ventured a guess.

“You’ve worked with animals before, haven’t you?”

“I worked at the zoo in Des Moines.”

“You must hate what I do here then, experimenting on defenseless animals?” I inquired softly.

“No. I know it’s necessary for medicine to advance.” I was surprised by her levelheaded answer, especially coming from an animal lover.

“Yes, it’s important to test and test again before starting human trials,” I reflected knowing all too well I had broken this rule before because I had been impatient and arrogant. I tried to put the thought out of my head.

“I need to write up some of the data quickly. Do you want me to bring you upstairs in the meantime?”

“No, I’ll stay down here with you.” She paused. “If you don’t mind.”

“No, of course not.”

I pushed her chair into the other room and placed her next to the computer while grabbing a stool for myself. As I sat down in front of my computer and switched on the program I needed I saw her eyes wander around the room.

I was surprised she didn’t find it strange or even creepy to sit in a windowless lab surrounded by unfamiliar instruments accompanied by a stranger. My fingers flew over the keyboard recording observations about the mouse I had just euthanized. I chalked it up to another failure, one of so many.

What I had told Annette wasn’t entirely the truth. I
had
found the switch to turn off the gene which controlled aging over thirty years ago. I had not anticipated the side effects it would have. Once I had realized it to my horror, the change had already taken place in my body, and there was no stopping it.

Ever since then I had tried to find a compound to reverse it, without effect. The last dead mouse was just another confirmation that I hadn’t gotten any further. However, my research over the last thirty years had produced some results, one of which was the serum I had developed to remove any foreign compounds from the body as long as they had not merged with the cell’s building blocks.

It was a first step, and I hoped it would eventually provide me with the antidote I was looking for.

“Vince.” Annette’s voice pierced through my thoughts.

I turned to her. “Yes?”

“Is your last name Mesaros?”

It was a strange question. “Yes. Didn’t I tell you that earlier?”

“Vincent Mesaros MD? School of Medicine, Boston University?”

I followed her stare, and looked straight at my diploma on the wall.

Oh, no!

Panic shot through my body.

“1971?” She gasped and stared at me.

Say something! Do something!

I wasn’t ready to tell her. I couldn’t. She wasn’t ready to hear it, not yet. What would she do? She would be disgusted when she realized I was old enough to be her father.

That’s it!

“Oh, that? That’s my father’s diploma.” I searched her face to see whether she would buy it. “I was named after him,” I lied.

“Oh. So you followed in his footsteps?” It seemed I was a better liar than I thought.

“You must think I’m really nosy,” she suddenly said apologetically.

“I don’t think that at all.”

You’re just getting a little too perceptive.

“You’re probably bored sitting around here.”

“No, I like watching you,” she admitted, but suddenly blushed when I locked eyes with her. I smiled. I wanted to kiss her, but instead touched her cheek with my hand. Her skin was warm.

“I thought you didn’t want to touch me,” she said sheepishly.

I sighed. “I’m just a man.” I pulled her chair closer to me before I even knew what I was doing. “I’m not always as strong as I should be.”

“Why resist at all?” Her voice was so soft, so tempting.

“Because it’s better for you.”

I could feel her leaning toward me. “Shouldn’t
I
know what’s better for me?” I heard her say.

“I should think so.” I smiled. “But it looks like you don’t.” My lips were only an inch away from hers. “Have you ever thought about the fact that I’m a stranger, and you’re alone with me in my house?”

“I think of it all the time,” she whispered seductively.

“Practically incapacitated?” I continued warning her.

“I can move enough for what I want to do.” I knew exactly what she meant.

“Without a means of escape?” The thought heightened my excitement.

“Who wants to escape?” Her voice was only a whisper.

“I could be a serial killer.”

“Of mice maybe,” she chuckled.

“Are you making fun of me?” I wasn’t angry.

“I would never, because you could be a serial killer, you know,” she mocked barely suppressing a laugh.

She had to be silenced, and fast. As soon as my lips brushed hers she stopped laughing. I wasn’t as gentle as the night before, but she didn’t seem to mind. Instead she threw her arms around my neck and pressed me close to her as if she didn’t want me to let go of her. Her lips were soft and sweet. She parted them almost instantly to allow me to explore her and taste her. She wanted me to kiss her more passionately. I could feel how she urged me by pressing her body closer to mine. Did she know what she was doing? What woman would make herself so vulnerable in the house of a stranger letting him feel her body the way she did? I pulled away from her lips for just a split-second to look at her, but she immediately came after me and pressed her lips onto mine. It felt like she wanted me as much as I wanted her.

I didn’t understand why she kissed me the way she did. Was she not afraid of me? I had to warn her about me, but I couldn’t tear myself away from her. I felt like a drunk who had tried to abstain for too long. Could she press her body any closer to mine or was it I who pressed hers against mine? I couldn’t tell. Was I the one demanding her passionate response or was she volunteering it? Did it matter? She wasn’t pulling away from me. There wasn’t an ounce of resistance in her, not a gram of hesitancy.

What was I thinking when I thought I could try to deny myself the sweet taste of her lips? I could handle this.
I could learn to handle this
, I told myself as I hung onto her lips.

The blaring noise of an alarm interrupted us. I jumped up. Annette gave me a frightened look.

“Sorry, it’s just one of my experiments. I need to check on it.”

Saved by the bell,
I thought to myself as I strode to the bench at the other end of the room. I switched off the alarm and looked at the tissue sample I had prepared during the night.

My lips felt oddly raw and hot. I wondered how bad hers must feel after the way I had crushed them. I had let myself give into my desire. Obviously my strategy of keeping away from her and not touching her didn’t work.

As a scientist I knew if one method didn’t yield the desired result, another method had to be tried, until one could be found which would work.

I remembered what I had thought earlier when I was kissing her. I had thought I could
learn
to handle it. What if I could? What if I could keep my emotions under control and suppress the transformation?