Memory, Part Three

The phone was ringing.

Joseph took a moment to recognize the noise. They'd just gotten one of the new landlines, so he wasn't quite used to the sound of the telephone yet. On the second ring, he got up and picked up the phone. "Who is it?" he asked.

He listened. A smile appeared on his face; then it disappeared just as quickly. Sounding conflicted, he said, "All right. I'll tell Elspeth to expect company."

Putting the phone back into the cradle, Joseph looked at it pensively. He pressed the replay button, listening to the tinny recording of Casey's voice. Then he went over to find his wife and tell her that they'd be cooking for four tonight.

-

"This soup is delicious," Casey remarked brightly. "Compliments to the chef!"

Joseph nodded dourly. He finished his own soup and set it aside.

His month-old son was falling asleep. Elspeth rose from the table to place him in his cradle, returning a minute later. The meal was done.

"It's been a lovely dinner," Casey said, "But I didn't come here just to eat." He looked meaningfully at Elspeth.

"She hears everything I hear," Joseph replied to the unstated request. "We keep no secrets from each other."

Elspeth leaned forward, putting her elbows on the table. "I'm sorry, but I actually don't really know anything more about you than your name, Mr. Graham. Joseph's never talked about you. How do you know him?"

Casey leaned back. "We were childhood friends. Met each other in the county school and hit it off. Never had anything ill to say of each other, until he died." This last was accompanied by a stabbing motion with a fork at Joseph.

"Did you come here to insult me and my wife, or did you have something to say?" Joseph asked coldly.

Casey put his hand to his forehead. "No. I'm sorry. I grew... carried away. I just came to check up on an old friend, who I hadn't seen in over ten years."

"We're doing quite well," Elspeth answered for Joseph. "The homestead is producing wonderfully, and Elijah hasn't had anything worse than a little colic."

"Not naming him after yourself?" Casey asked Joseph.

"No," Joseph replied. "You'll recall that the other wasn't my choice. I was dead at the time."

Casey shrugged. There was a lull in the conversation. Then Casey tried again. "I heard about you. The City Times claimed that your discovery was the greatest thing since sliced bread. Had a dozen trackbacks saying just the opposite, of course."

"We don't get that out here," Elspeth replied.

Casey backtracked. "I was wondering how they got word of your discovery. Last I'd heard, you were keeping it all pretty quiet."

"It's easier to keep things quiet then not, out here," Joseph explained. "But... well, I suppose I'd better tell you all of it. Simpler that way."

He sighed. "When I turned twelve, Annabel evicted me. It was just too strange for her - I was starting to resemble myself as she'd known me, before. And, of course, I was just starting puberty. Again. So I decided to fall back on my old contacts, at the University. Started an internship to support myself while I tried to recontact the people I knew before. One or two were dead, but most were still around. I managed to prove that I was me without too much difficulty, though I'm still missing... a few memories. They helped me climb up the ranks faster than I could have otherwise. Already, I'm finishing up the graduate requirements, just a year or two behind what I'd achieved before my death. But now I'm a decade younger."

"News spread slowly through the University. At first it was pretty well confined to the biology professors, but eventually a few of them published a paper, with my help, and the Times got word of it. Thankfully, they don't know where I live, but... I'm sure you know all that's resulted from the publicity."

"I've heard a little," Casey said. "Other scientists are already working to duplicate your feat, though they're not desperate enough to test it on themselves.Some crackpots think you're the Second Coming. The President's talking about legislation to ban it. And the Cardinal is preparing a bull against it." He said this last with a frown.

"Do you support it?" Elspeth asked.

Casey ignored the question. "How did you meet Elspeth, anyway?"

"I met Elspeth a few years ago, at the University," Joseph told him. "She was giving lectures on attempts to cure the most common neurodegenerative disorders. I attended them - of course - and our eyes met."

"Events progressed from there," Elspeth interrupted with a laugh.

Casey chuckled. Then he lost his smile again. "Do you have it again?" he asked.

Joseph shook his head. "I don't know. We still don't know enough to diagnose it before onset, much less treat it."

Elspeth said, "We're working on a cure. There are a few promising methods... but it'll be at least twenty years before we get something that works reliably and safely. Maybe twice that."

Joseph continued, "I'm ready for it. Once you die once, nothing seems quite as terrifying again."

Casey shrugged. "I wouldn't know."

He tensed. Then, swiftly, he asked, "Will your son inherit your changes?"

"Yes," Joseph said firmly. "It's designed to be dominant. Barring disaster, it'll inherit for as long as my line continues, male and female both."

"And we're planning to have more," Elspeth said defensively. She stared at Casey, daring him to say anything.

Casey deflated. "I had hoped that without the disease to press you, you wouldn't..." He stopped himself. "No. I will not say that. But you know what I feel about your use of your children."

"I do," Joseph replied. "But I know I am in the right, just as you do."

Casey sighed again. "One day, we will fight over this, you and I. But I am getting older now. There is gray in my hair, unlike yours. And so it will wait for another day."

He stood from the table and walked toward the front door. Elspeth and Joseph accompanied him, exchanging polite nothings with him. Donning his coat and hat, Joseph opened the door and walked toward the road. Elspeth and Joseph heard the baby squall; they exchanged a glance, and Elspeth went inside to deal with him.

Casey remarked, without turning, "She reminds me of Annabel."

"Me too," Joseph replied. He stood in the inch-deep snow as Joseph departed, reviving old memories. There may have been tears in his eyes; but if there were, the cold wind blew them away before Elspeth returned.