by A. L. Jambor
“I promise you, I will do this even if I have to do it in my basement.”
They both smiled and hugged again. Maggie kissed him on the cheek and he kissed her on both cheeks. Antonio then handed her a slip of paper.
“You will write to me, yes?” He looked at Maggie with big puppy dog eyes.
“I promise to let you know how things progress. Goodbye, my Antonio. Go in peace.”
Antonio got into the small boat with a boy from the village who paddled him upriver to Itacoatiara where he could get a boat to Manaus and an airplane home. He turned to wave to Maggie but she had already left the landing.
Six months after returning home, he received a letter from Mateo saying he had found Maggie's body lying in the jungle beside a group of her beloved Mortevida plants. She had stopped taking the Mortevida elixir because she thought it had cured her. Mateo said her pain returned and was growing worse every day. After much soul searching, Maggie had placed her thumb in the middle of a leaf. She had chosen to leave the world on her own terms, just as she had lived her life. Antonio wept as he remembered Maggie, and he vowed to use her discovery in a way that would make her proud.
Chapter 24
Colts Neck, New Jersey
Antonio sat at the kitchen table trying to read the morning paper and eat his breakfast. He was examining the little dog seated opposite him on the kitchen chair. His wife Teresa treated the dog like a favorite child, but Antonio drew the line at having a dog at the table when he ate his breakfast.
"Teresa! Chloe is in the chair again,” he said. He stared at Chloe. “Get down.” The little dog just stared back at him with her little brown bug-eyes.
Teresa came out of the bedroom and saw Chloe sitting opposite Antonio. The sight tickled her so much she broke into giggles.
“This is not funny, Teresa.” Antonio didn’t understand his wife’s strange American sense of humor. “A dog is not to be at the table while I eat.”
“Oh, Antonio, stop being so stuffy. She’s so cute!” Teresa loved to tease Antonio. She sometimes purposely did things to see him get all ruffled. “Okay, I’ll get her down.”
Teresa walked over to the dog on the chair and shooed her off. Chloe obeyed Teresa by jumping down and walking to her bed. She sat down and continued to stare at Antonio from the floor. Antonio turned to see her staring.
“Make her stop,” he said.
“What can I say? She adores you. Besides, all terriers stare.” Teresa got a piece of toast and a cup of coffee and sat in Chloe's chair.
“I much prefer seeing your beautiful face to that of the dog.” Antonio flashed his brilliant smile, and Teresa remembered why she had fallen in love with this serious scientist.
“I have something to tell you, Antonio.” Antonio looked up from his paper. He lifted his eyebrows expecting to hear her tell him he would be a father. “Oh, no, not that,” she said. “I’m thinking of breeding Chloe.” She waited for his reaction.
“No, no, no. I say no. I don’t want any more dogs around here. I don’t mind her so much because you love her, but no more dogs, please.”
“Antonio, you don’t keep the puppies, you sell the puppies. And Chloe is so cute. I was in the library and found out that people are breeding Jack Russell Terriers with Rat Terriers. I could find a male just like her, and we could sell them.”
“Aren’t there enough dogs in the world without homes?” Antonio could see her closing in for the kill.
“I know Antonio, but it would be so much fun, and I would make sure each puppy got a good home. Please agree to let me do this. I won’t ask you for anything. I’ll do it all myself.”
Antonio always had a hard time saying no to Teresa. She was the love of his life and he wanted her to be happy no matter what. But a house full of puppies!
“I don't want to agree to this.” Antonio was trying to look stern. She smiled at him and teasingly batted her eyes.
“What can I do? You win. You always win.” Antonio gave Teresa a stern look.
Teresa jumped out of her chair and hugged Antonio.
“I promise you’ll never notice they’re here.” Antonio shrugged and smiled. He knew she meant it when she said it, but things rarely worked out the way she planned.
Antonio had fallen in love with Teresa from the moment he saw her walking across the University of Florence campus three months after he returned from Brazil. He followed her and asked her to have coffee with him. She looked at the handsome Italian and agreed.
Over coffee, she decided she would date this man if he asked her. He did, and over dinner the following evening she decided she would marry him if he asked her. He did, and three months later they were on their honeymoon in Roma.
Antonio received his doctorate in biochemistry at the end of the semester and Teresa was set to return to the States that spring. They packed up everything they had and moved to America to begin a new life together. They were confident that Antonio would have no trouble finding employment with his background and a Ph.D. If nothing else, he could teach.
Teresa would continue working on her degree in art and taking care of Antonio. For a while, they lived with her parents, Ed and Dorothy Schuyler, in Marlboro, New Jersey.
Antonio had brought his Mortevida plants with him from Italy safely wrapped and stored them in his father-in-law's basement with a sign that read “DO NOT TOUCH.” He checked on them every other day to ensure they were alive and well. The plants were remarkably hardy and showed no signs of withering.
Teresa's father had a friend who worked for Wilmer and March Pharmaceuticals, and he managed to get Antonio an interview with the human resources director. Antonio knew the name Wilmer very well. James Wilmer, Matthew’s youngest son, had given Antonio the money to travel to Brazil to meet Margaret DeMorte. The HR Director looked over Antonio's impeccable resume and called him back for a second interview.
Wilmer and March hired Antonio to head a lab in the new Cranberry facility researching new drugs in competition with Eli Lilly and Pfizer in the fall of 1988. Jacob Wilmer had moved his base of operations out of Freehold and into a sparkling new building in Cranberry two years before, shortly after closing the New Mexico laboratory.
As Antonio found his way around Wilmer and March, he often inquired as to how he could have a word with the man himself, Jacob Wilmer. He was told that he would need an appointment as Mr. Wilmer rarely spoke with the researchers.
Antonio spoke to the head of his department to see if there was any chance he may be able to do some research on his own time. The head of his department, Jake Rawlings, told Antonio that personal research was strictly off-limits. Jacob Wilmer always made the final decision on what would be researched in his labs and Antonio should forget about using the labs for any unauthorized experimentation. Antonio said he understood and went back to his lab.
His first assignment had been to create a new drug to combat migraine headaches. Antonio decided to take the opportunity to learn all he could at Wilmer's. He delegated tasks to his research team and worked tirelessly to fulfill Mr. Wilmer's orders.
He searched through the company’s brand new computer databases to see if there was any mention of the Mortevida. If he was going to create something out of the Mortevida, then he didn’t want to fight for the rights to it with a company like Wilmer and March. It had to belong to him and him alone. He owed it to Maggie to do the right thing with her miracle plant.
Antonio was able to supervise the lab and still research the computer with ease. He had good team members and he cultivated their loyalty by engendering a spirit of camaraderie. His assistants respected Antonio as someone who would do the grunge work right alongside them. They worked hard for Antonio, and he, in return, treated them with respect and an occasional night on the town. So when Dr. Russo was out of sight for a while, his assistants gladly covered for him.
One night just before falling asleep, Antonio remembered the conversation he’d had with James Wilmer regarding the summers he had worked in his fat
her's warehouse. James had shipped supplies to Margaret DeMorte. Antonio wondered if he could find any of those old orders to determine who had been authorizing them.
The next morning, after handing out the assignments in his lab, Antonio headed for the computer room. He’d been running searches on the Mortevida plant, purple spores, etc. Now, he ran a search for Margaret DeMorte. He came up with nothing.
Antonio got up from the computer desk and walked to the elevator. He took the elevator to the main lobby. There was an old security guard sitting behind the reception desk, and Antonio casually approached him.
“Excuse me, sir, but how long have you worked for Wilmer and March?”
The old guard looked Antonio up and down. He checked the security badge attached to Antonio's lab coat carefully and then answered him.
“I've been with the company since 1948.” He sounded tired and it was only 10:30 a.m.
“I’m new here. I was wondering, where was Wilmer and March before it moved here?”
Antonio was sounding more Italian by the minute. Maybe the old guy would take pity on the poor foreigner and help him out.
“We were in Freehold, right by the railroad tracks.” Then the old guy sighed.
“Thank you, sir. Thank you very much.” Antonio turned to walk away and then a thought struck him. “Sorry, but are any of the men from the warehouse still here? The men from Freehold?”
The old guy thought for a minute.
“There might be someone. Yeah, a guy named Charlie has been here a long time. He must have been there too. Just go to the warehouse and ask for old Charlie.”
“Thank you, thank you, sir,” Antonio said with a small bow.
He started running to the warehouse with the old guy shouting at him to slow down. Antonio got to the warehouse and stood in front of the door. He pushed the buzzer. This area was heavily guarded as the drugs were stored here until they were shipped. A disembodied voice began to speak.
“Who is it?” the voice asked.
“I’m Antonio Russo. I’m the supervisor of pharmaceutical research. I want to see old Charlie.”
“Charlie S. or Charlie R.?”
Antonio was stumped.
“They just told me to ask for old Charlie.”
“Old Charlie? Oh man, you must mean Charlie Weise.”
The door opened and a man in a company jumpsuit came out and stood before Antonio. He was tall with a full head of brown hair and brown eyes. He wore glasses and a Yankees baseball cap.
“Charlie Weise retired last year. I can give you his phone number, but that's about it.”
Antonio thought a minute.
“Can you tell me anything about Freehold?”
The man looked to be in his forties. He may have worked with James Wilmer.
“I started in Freehold out of high school, 1965. What'd you want to know?” The man's security badge read Paul Christopher.
“I have some questions about shipments from the warehouse in the 60s.”
“This official?” Paul was watching Antonio.
“Well, ah, no. I have a personal reason for asking.”
“You got some time?” Paul turned to walk back into the warehouse. He turned at the door and held out his hand. Antonio stood watching Paul, not knowing what to do next.
“Your coat, give it to me.”
“Why, I just asked a question.” Antonio pulled his coat around him.
“No, no, I want to put your coat in the office until we come back.”
“Come back? Where are we going?” Antonio took his coat off while he walked towards Paul.
“It's time for my break. Let's go into town and get some coffee. I'll drive.”
Chapter 25
Paul and Antonio walked over to a small Mercedes Benz delivery truck. Paul unlocked the door and Antonio got in. They drove to Route 33 and headed towards Freehold. Paul turned onto Route 9. When they got to Freehold, Paul turned into the parking lot of the Jersey Freeze. They parked the truck in front and walked inside. Paul told Antonio to take a seat while he ordered.
“This is the Jersey Freeze, Antonio, the best ice cream store in Freehold. You want anything?” Paul asked.
“Just coffee, please.”
Antonio found a seat by the window and slid into the booth. Shortly thereafter, Paul walked over to the table with two coffees. He put them on the table and went back to the counter. He returned with the biggest sundae Antonio had ever seen.
Paul put the sundae down and slid into the other side of the booth. He put the plastic spoon into the mountain of orange sherbet with marshmallow sauce and whipped cream, scooped out a huge spoonful and shoved it into his mouth.
“Man, that's the best. Better than drugs, sex, booze, anything. I come here for lunch every day and I have one of these. I don't give a shit what my doctor says. Let every artery clog. I just love this.”
He scooped up another spoonful and gulped it down. Antonio stared in wonder at Paul's total ecstasy over the frozen mound of sugar and fat. The idea of diabetes kept popping into his mind.
“Don't let them fool you, Antonio. This is unbelievably wonderful.”
“It looks nice,” was all Antonio could think to say. He sipped his coffee and waited for Paul to speak. When Paul finished his sundae, he sat back and rubbed his stomach.
“Sorry man, I just love that shit. I know it's bad for me. But it gets me through my day, if you know what I mean.” Antonio just nodded politely. “So, you had some questions about the old Freehold facility. You know, they still own it. That's where they house the old files.”
Antonio felt the hairs on the back of his neck pop up.
“The old files, like from the sixties?”
“Yeah, and older than that. Wilmer's grandfather started there building guns and shit, and his dad started the lab. The place is filled with files.” Paul took a swig of coffee. “What are you lookin’ for?”
“I met James Wilmer in Florence when I was in school. He told me he sent medical supplies to Brazil. I wanted to see who authorized them.” Antonio waited for Paul to answer.
“I worked with Jimmy in the warehouse. His dad was a ball buster. He made his kids do the grunt work. Said it built character. Well, Jimmy was a character all right.”
Paul slapped the table and laughed at his joke. Antonio stared at him.
“Not funny, huh? Well, anyway, Jimmy and I would pack those boxes once a month. I remember they sent different stuff every month, kind of rotated it. This month thermometers, this month antibiotics. Always the same different stuff if you know what I mean. Never varied. No new medicines, etc. Nothing invented after 1955, it seemed. Like they were emptying out the warehouse and sending it to the rainforest. I used to imagine all these little brown kids with thermometers hanging out of their mouths. They are brown right?”
“Yes, they are brown, I was there.” Antonio had finished his coffee. “Is there a chance we can go there, to the warehouse here?”
Paul thought for a minute.
“Let me make a call.” Paul got out of the booth and dropped the paper items into the trash. He went outside to the pay phone. Antonio saw him speaking to someone. Paul hung up the phone and motioned for Antonio to come outside.
When Antonio got outside, Paul was getting into the truck. Antonio got into the truck and Paul started the engine.
“I called in to tell them I would be checking out the warehouse here.” Paul said as he pulled out of the Jersey Freeze onto Route 9.
They headed towards Main Street and crossed over the railroad tracks. At the first right, they turned and parked in front of an old factory building. Paul got out and walked to the padlocked door. Antonio followed him inside once Paul got the door open.
The whole factory floor was covered with shelving units filled with banker's boxes. Antonio could see signs taped to the top of each row with a year written on it.
“Up here we've got the thirties and forties. Next section should be the fifties and sixties.”
/> Paul headed towards the next section by walking towards the back of the building. Antonio once again followed him.
When they got to the middle of the building, Paul stopped and pointed to his left.
“’Fifties that side,” he then pointed to his right, “and sixties that side. What year you want to search?”
“The year you worked here with Jimmy.”
“1965 it is.”
Paul turned right and walked down the aisle. He got about halfway through and stopped. He waved Antonio over.
“This is the row for 1965. Up and down.”
He pulled a box off the top shelf. He placed it on the floor between him and Antonio. Paul pulled the lid off. He moved his fingers along the file tabs so he could read them. He found one from January that said “Medical Requisitions,” pulled it out of the box and handed it to Antonio.
Antonio eagerly looked through the file. There was one page listing a shipment to Margaret DeMorte. It listed what supplies had been sent and where they were going. Under authorized it said M. Wilmer.
“Who is M. Wilmer?” Antonio asked.
“That would have to be Jacob's dad. It might have been a standing order, you know, the same over and over. It wouldn't require real signature. They would just kind of rubber stamp it.”
Antonio felt so disappointed. He knew that any file they found here would be the same.
“How do we find out who started it?” Antonio asked.
“Jeez, I have no idea. This was going on for a long time before I worked here. And according to this,” Paul took the paper from Antonio's hand, “it didn’t originate here. The original order came from New Mexico, see?”
Antonio looked at the paper. On the bottom of the paper under location were the initials NM.
“New Mexico! Wilmer's has a lab in New Mexico?”
“Not exactly. And I’m not supposed to know this, but in the forties or fifties daddy Matthew left his old man to build a lab in New Mexico. He was really building a lab to create biological weapons. Now you didn't hear that from me. It's all very hush-hush now that they’ve gone all respectable, but that's where old Matthew started.
