by Carl East
Forever Young
Published by Carl East
At Smashwords
Copyright 2011 - Carl East
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Forever Young
The day has finally come; I have to move on again. My story is unbelievable, which is why through the many years that have passed it has only been revealed to a few select people. Sitting here at my desk I watch as the sun slowly sets. I’ve made the decision to write it down because I’m not sure what the future holds for me. You never know, I just may need it as a reminder to what transpired all those years ago. As it stands now, I’m two hundred and thirty-six years of age, yet to the average person I look about twenty. Of course, there’s a good reason for that, as I was twenty years old when this story began.
I lost both my parents in a boating accident when I was just fourteen and having no immediate relatives was sent to an orphanage to be raised. It wasn’t a bad life but as I approached the age of eighteen, it seemed as if the whole world beckoned to me and I wanted to answer its call. My thirst for adventure and knowledge was only exceeded by my desire to travel. I was determined to explore the world and wanted to see it all. My name is Claudia Francis and at the grand age of eighteen, I managed to secure a position on one of the many large ocean freighters that move the goods of the world around the globe. During the months of traveling from America to the various countries of the world, I visited many beautiful places but the one I fell in love with was Paris, France.
Leaving the security of the ship was the one decision that would change my life forever. I found work quite quickly and immersed myself in the culture of the city. Working and using my free time to explore I learned to speak like a native and frequented the cafes where discussions on life and the problems of the world were argued over cups of steaming coffee. It was there that I met a college professor by the name of Claude. He often joked that I was his female double and not just because of the coincidence of our names.
He was on permanent leave from his university for an explosion that destroyed his chemistry lab and injured many people. Proclaiming his innocence during the review proceedings had done little good, as it was not the first time that accidents had happened. However, it was the first time that anyone had been injured.
Anyway, he was a science professor and was doing many types of unusual experiments in a small lab that was funded by one of his personal benefactors. He was a curious man and wanted to know all the answers to all the questions that troubled his waking thoughts. His need to know how and why things worked led him to more questions of how they could be used to improve human existence. He said it was our thirst for knowledge, that made us twins lost at birth and it was on that fateful day that I went to meet him in the lab.
He was excited about his latest discovery and was determined to take me to dinner so we could discuss it in depth. I arrived early as usual and went straight into the lab to let him know that I had arrived. I never quite knew what to expect when I walked in and sure enough, there he was doing yet another experiment.
“Hi Claude, did you forget our dinner date?” I shouted over the hissing of butane burners and the clatter of beakers being moved about on machines that had some type of gears and wheels turning.
“No my dear, I’ve almost finished this particular experiment and will be with you shortly,” he replied.
I didn’t have a clue as to what this new experiment entailed, so I didn’t bother asking. Experience had taught me that his explanations took longer than the actual experiment so I stood silently to one side and just watched what he was doing. A sudden change in the pitch and volume of the noise in the lab filled me with apprehension. Suddenly, there was an almighty explosion and I remember being hurled through the glass window and its wooden frame before hitting the sidewalk outside.
Lying there on the cold cement with the wind knocked out of me people started to gather around to see if I needed help. Helping me to sit up, the first thing I noticed upon doing so was that I was covered with green slimy goo. I had seen something similar in the flasks and large jars of Claude’s experiment.
“Claude!” I suddenly shouted out.
Struggling to my feet, I heard the sounds of sirens and felt hands reaching to grab me as I ran back inside only to find that Claude had taken the brunt of the explosion and was clearly dead. Swaying on my feet, I saw that several people had followed me inside, and with the arrival of the police, I was led away. Tending to my wounds they began to ask countless questions on what the experiment was about. I could only reply that I knew nothing of what he was working on and kept explaining that I was waiting for him to finish, as we were to go to dinner. They finally allowed me to leave when it became apparent that I didn’t know anything of importance.
At the time, I didn’t realize what had happened to me, in fact, it took another fifteen years for it to finally dawn on me. I looked the same at the age of thirty-five as I did when I was twenty. For a long time after that, I rationalized that my appearance was just due to good living, but people began to notice. It was at the age of forty that I finally had to admit to myself that I wasn’t aging and the only possible explanation had to be Claude’s experiment.
That green slimy goo I’d been covered with must have held some special properties that were stopping the process of growing old. Of course, I had no idea what those properties were, or in fact, whether it could be reversed. In the end I finally accepted the truth of the matter and accepted the gift I’d been given.
With the burden of that knowledge, I returned home to America determined to settle into my old hometown and start a new life. Finding a job that offered educational benefits, I enrolled in the local community college. Time passed and I moved to a larger university to secure a four-year degree. It was my thirst for knowledge, which kept me sane in the coming years. I never seemed to tire of learning. As time passed, I’d select a different subject major so that I could expand my educational background. By the time I was one hundred years of age, I’d earned six college degrees.
Of course, they were all earned at different locations throughout the state. There were a few instances when people that I had known in my former life ran into me. However, as I got older the better my excuses became. I simply told them that the person they were referring to was my mother or grandmother. This worked every time, so it became easy to hide.
By now, you the reader must be thinking how lucky I am, living forever and never growing old may seem like a wonderful thing. The fact is there are consequences for the condition I find myself in. I realized early on, what would happen if the truth was ever revealed. One fear was that I’d be confined somewhere and experimented on. Another was that I’d be alone forever. I had already lost my parents and Claude and having a long-term relationship would be impossible. At least, that’s what I believed.
What I didn’t know at the time was that I was about to meet the love of my life. His name was Phillip Shipman and was a senior in the college I now found myself attending. He was the classic tall, dark and handsome who sat down next to me in class and when he smiled, my heart did a somersault in my chest. I buried my true feelings as we built our friendship and I dared to call him a friend. Study groups turned into lunches and after six months, he asked me out for dinner. I said yes.
What I wasn’t aware of though was the fact that he’d fallen for me too. H
e walked me home and for the first time we kissed. I knew in my heart that I should have ended it there and then but I returned his kiss with equal passion. We made love that night and every night thereafter and I consoled my heart by thinking when the time came to move on I could always break it off in the future.
That of course isn’t what happened, instead just one year later he asked me to marry him, which threw me into a tailspin. Should I tell him about myself, or should I keep it a secret for as long as I could. In the end, I decided that if this marriage was going to work it had to be built on trust, so I got him alone one day and told him my story. He didn’t believe a word of it, at least, not until I produced some concrete evidence. I’d always known that I would have to prove what I was saying to someone, and to that end, I had taken several photos during my many years.
These pictures clearly depicted the fashion of the day, also how I looked the same in every one of them. I also had my degrees from the various colleges I’d attended, all in different names. Phillip knew in his heart that I wasn’t the kind of person to lie, which is why he started to believe me. He asked me who else knew and I told him that he was the only one. I then asked him if he realized the consequences of marrying me.
The fact, that we’d have to move at least every ten or fifteen years, was something he couldn’t grasp at first. He couldn’t see what difference it made, until I told him what would happen to me if it became common knowledge. I would become a lab rat, an anomaly that needed to be studied. I asked him if he would be happy in such a situation and of course, he said no. Therefore, it was decided that we would marry and spend the first ten years near to his family. It was the happiest ten years of my life so far and I still cherish them to this day.
It was during those years that we had a daughter, who we named Crystal. She would become my closest friend and companion. My husband died when he went to fight in the First World War and to this day, I visit his grave every Sunday.
We’d spent a good twenty-five years together and I missed him so much at times, it was unbearable. I had Crystal though; whom I’d told my story to when she was in her teens. She was now in her twenties and like I said before was my closest friend and confidante. We travelled a lot together and I even took her to France to show her where the accident had happened. We went to Rome and Venice when tragedy struck once again. Crystal caught pneumonia and though she fought it bravely, she lost the battle and once again, I was left alone.
I became a sort of hermit after that, as I couldn’t accept the deaths of both my husband and my daughter when I’d had such a short time with them both. I would visit their graves every Sunday, to rearrange the flowers or cut away the weeds that seemed to spring up out of nowhere. I’ll always remember this one particular Sunday when I was kneeling down next to my husband’s grave and started to talk with him.
“Hi Phillip, I’ve been so lonely these past few months I don’t know what to do with myself. I hope and pray that you and Crystal are together and that we will see one another again someday.”
It was then that the words ‘move on,’ kept echoing inside my mind, as if it had been planted there by a higher power. At first, I thought it was my subconscious but as the days went on the suggestion continued until finally I could take it no longer and decided to leave. On the day I left, that suggestion stopped. I travelled for a while and gradually my passion for living returned and I became my old self once again.
I decided to teach, which, was probably the best course of action for me. I seemed to have a penchant for it and enjoyed the challenge of passing on my wisdom. I had a rival at my first teaching job, his name was Frank and because he’d been teaching for over thirty years, he thought he was more intelligent than I was. He was arrogant, egocentric and generally not liked by anyone.
He took great delight in putting me down whenever he could and it didn’t matter who was there. Fortunately, the other teachers knew him well and encouraged me to turn the other cheek where Frank was concerned. He’d be retired soon and I wouldn’t have to put up with him, at least that’s what they’d say.
Then one day I saw an opportunity to get my own back on him without making it look obvious. There was a teacher quiz created by the students, the idea being that whoever was first after taking the test would become the student’s choice for teacher of the year. Believe me when I say, that the questions for the quiz had been chosen very carefully and would test even the brightest teacher.
Frank believed he was going to ace it and openly mocked the other teachers. I’d love to say that when the students had tallied the scores together, that Frank was the first to go by the wayside. However, they started reading out the results from last to first in the assembly hall and got all the way up to the last five before Frank was knocked out. When it got to the second spot and it wasn’t me I knew I’d won and all the teachers turned to congratulate me before my name was announced. I then found out, that I’d gotten every question correct and that I’d impressed every single person there, including Frank.
I think what pissed Frank off more though was the fact that I won it for the next four years as well. He was going to retire that final year and would never have the opportunity to go up against me again.
I’d been there almost five years when I met Stewart, who was the new music teacher and a very talented one. By then I was at the point of deciding where I should move to next but his charm and wit made me want to stay a little longer. He got under my skin and into my heart and before I knew it, I was in love all over again.
Four months later he asked me to marry him and I decided to treat him the same way I treated Phillip all those years before. I told him my story and finished by showing him the proof but he couldn’t accept it. It took another ten years before he would, and I thought I was stubborn.
He sat in the chair waiting for me when I arrived home that day and told me that he’d been looking into a property opportunity near to the coast. When I asked him what had brought this on, he admitted that what I’d been telling him over the years must be true, because I hadn’t aged a day since then. He also said that several people had begun to notice and comment on the situation to him and he knew that it was time to move on.
We wasted no time, as there was little point. When the semester ended, we were saying goodbye to all the friends we’d made there and it has to be said that it was a sad day. I’d been happy there and would miss the people I’d come to know. Stewart kept our final destination from everyone, which was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. He knew that the people who were asking him would one day want to visit and they wouldn’t be prepared for what they found.
We settled in to our new home and loved the location. We walked a lot on the beach, which was, a few miles down the road. Then we both got teaching jobs at the same college and everything was good. I couldn’t have been happier, until the day Germany invaded Poland and everything changed.
Stewart was only in his twenties and was called up to go over to Europe. The day he left was full of tears and prayers. I remember telling him to come back to me in one piece and not to take chances. Seven months later, I received a telegram that he was missing in action. I wept that day for so long that I thought I’d never stop crying. I carried on teaching, the days turned into weeks, which turned into months and before I knew it, the war was over and Germany had been beaten. It had been over four years since being informed that my husband was missing in action and I hoped that he knew how proud I was of his sacrifice.
Two months after the war had ended; I was in the middle of a class when I could hear cheers coming from outside the classroom door. I, along with all the students, turned to see what was happening. The door was opened and there stood Stewart. I dropped the papers I was holding and ran towards Stewart’s waiting arms and threw myself into his embrace. I’d convinced myself over those four and half years, that he was gone and that I would never see him again. Yet here he was and when I looked over his shoulder, I could see the dean and a few pr
ofessors shaking each other’s hands in celebration of Stewart’s return. My heart was so full of joy I could barely contain myself and kissed him until he couldn’t take anymore.
Later, it transpired that he’d been a prisoner of war for most of his tour of duty and that he thought of me every day, until finally, their camp was liberated and he had to go through the long process of getting back home. The dean allowed us to go home and we made love for hours. It turned into the most joyous day of my life. Once again, life was worth living and we lived it to the fullest.
Forty-five years later Stewart died after suffering a heart attack. He was in his late sixties and had no regrets. He told me before he died that he loved me and never regretted a moment of our time together. I kissed him and he told me he’d be waiting for me on the other side. I held his hand and didn’t let go until he passed. I still looked like I was twenty and on that day I began to wonder if I’d ever get to see the two men that I’d fallen in love with again.
Now it’s February 2011 and I still teach. I go where the jobs lead me and even though I’ve written it all down, I still find it hard to believe. I still haven’t aged and I’m beginning to wonder if I ever will, but I am happy and when in the course of time I do pass on I hope that this story is read by everyone who has ever loved and lost. Love is such a wonderful feeling, that it needs to be shared by everyone.
The End
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About the Author
I was born in Hull, England. I’ve been writing for some years now mainly for the pleasure of it all but with the advent of self-publishing I’ve entered a completely new world. I hope you enjoy my stories as much as I enjoyed writing them. If so, I’d love to read a review from you just to show me that you did at least enjoy the story.
