Last Days Trilogy

by Jacqueline Druga

  The beep of the phone brought Marcus back for Reggie’s return text. In transit he paused to look at the large artificial womb that contained Devante.

  Devante hadn’t grown in eleven days. He remained a long figure with partially formed body parts, his heartbeat was a steady sixty beats per minute. No movement. No sound. Except the hypnotic quiet of the effervescent bubbles enveloping him.

  Marcus returned to his computer. He wished he were home. But he couldn’t be. He knew the minute he stepped out the door, the clone would pull another miracle, finish forming and awaken. Marcus wouldn’t leave, no matter what, until he saw the end results.

  “Anything yet?” Reggie’s message read.

  “You have got to be kidding.” Marcus spoke out loud. “Seven minutes and this is it. It’s text, not pony express.” Marcus simply typed, “No.” He folded his arms waiting to see her message. Reggie responded faster.

  “Sorry it’s taking so long. Wrapping, you know. It is Christmas for us Christians.”

  Marcus snickered and typed, “I’m Christian. Sort of.”

  No matter what, Marcus had always made it home for Christmas. He never realized how lonely a person could feel being by himself on the biggest holiday of the year. A part of him hoped that everyone could pack up and come to visit him the following week. But it wasn’t in the cards, he knew. Marcus recalled how tough it had been to get Reggie out of the institute and home safely; a visit from the whole family was out of the question. But at least Reggie was coming to stay for five days, no less.

  The repeated beep and ‘Marcus?’ drew his attention back to the phone. “Sorry,” he typed.

  “I have to go. Seth will be up early. We’ve done this message thing for four hours.”

  Marcus checked the time. “Shit.” He said. “Sorry,” he typed quickly. “You go on. Call me tomorrow? Night Reg.”

  Marcus got up. He was still hungry and figured he could slip away for some food at his apartment. As he turned and moved toward the door, his phone beeped again. He lifted it and a peaceful sad smile graced his face when he read the words from Reggie. “I love you and miss you very much. Merry Christmas, Marcus”.

  Marcus ran his thumb across her words. “Merry Christmas, Reg,” he whispered.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Seville, Ohio

  The tag said, “To Aunt Rose, from Marcus,” in red and green. Reggie pulled a wrapped present from one of the huge UPS boxes and handed it to Marcus’ elderly aunt who sat on the sofa of the Leon home.

  “Thank you,” Rose took the small package and felt it judiciously. “Tea towels. Bet me its tea towels. Ain’t got tea towels in a while.”

  “Maybe,” Reggie said, knowing they weren’t. Tea towels weren’t offered on the online retailer where Marcus did all his Christmas shopping.

  “Oh, look, how pretty.” Aunt Rose lifted a long silk scarf and a pair of driving gloves.

  From his chair, George looked at Rose, eighty-four years old, then over to the box of gifts. “Now when does my son think she’s going to wear driving gloves? And me a pen? What do I do with a pen?”

  “It’s a nice gift,” Reggie defended.

  “You can use it for your crossword puzzles,” Kyle offered.

  “Hmm.” George stared at his pen in a new light. “What did he get you, Kyle?”

  “Whiz socks,” Kyle replied. “You wear them with boots. Keep your feet warm. New material, shiny and thin.” He nodded.

  “Shiny socks, a pen, driving gloves, he got his mother a certificate to candles of the month.” George shook his head. “Last year he got me golf clubs. I don’t even golf. His sister a year’s worth of tanning appointments,” George chuckled. “What’s going through that boy’s head at Christmas time?”

  “Thinking white,” Kyle stated.

  Marybeth, Kyle’s proper girlfriend, grimaced and tapped Kyle on the leg. Softly, she stuttered, “N-n-now. Kyle, sweetheart. Please. That sounds so ugly and racist.”

  Kyle tossed up his hands. “We’re family, we know. You haven’t met Marcus, have you?”

  “No,” Marybeth stated. “He’s always out of town.”

  “Well, let me describe Marcus for you.” Kyle looked at George. “May I?”

  “Be my guest,” George said.

  “Marcus is, hmm, maybe five foot nine. Nice looking. No facial hair. No sports ability. He can’t dance. Subscribes to Architectural Digest. Wears a pocket protector, always has.”

  “Daddy,” Reggie interrupted. “No, he doesn’t and never did.”

  “Oh hell, yes, Reg,” Kyle smiled. “Wasn’t until recently that he quit wearing button down shirts.” He looked back to Marybeth. “Now he only wears black tee-shirts. Probably has two dozen of them. Always pressed. Always hung up. Tee shirts.” He paused, smiling. “If that isn’t bad enough, he watches golf and fishing on television.”

  Marybeth stifled a giggle and covered her eyes. “Kyle, please.”

  “Marcus is just versatile,” Aunt Rose said as she tried on her silk scarf and gloves. “No one’s like Marcus.”

  The doorbell rang.

  Reggie jumped up. “That’ll be my gift from Marcus. I’ll get it.”

  Eliza appeared in the living room as Reggie made her way through the maze of kids and guests. “Marcus is having Reggie’s gift delivered here?”

  Kyle shrugged. “Came yesterday, actually.”

  Moments later, Reggie returned from the foyer arm-in-arm with David, the computer guy. “Everyone, this is David.”

  Aunt Rose smiled. “Isn’t that sweet. Look at the handsome man Marcus got Reggie for Christmas. Didn’t get me one. I’d a taken him too.”

  George stood up and extended his hand to David. “My son got you for Reggie?”

  “Not really,” David smiled. “He got her a laptop, iPad and phone. I was there to hook her up… um, rather, it up.”

  “I see.” George cleared his throat, eyebrows raised. “And I got a pen. An iPad?”

  “And computer.” Reggie turned to David. “You already met my father. This is Marcus’ mom, Eliza. Eliza, I should have told you he was coming.”

  “We’ve always got plenty on Christmas.” She shook David’s hand. “Nice to, uh, meet you. Will you excuse me?” Eliza scooted from the room.

  Kyle quickly followed. At the kitchen door he heard pots banging, then was almost run over by two fleeing cousins and Eliza’s sister. Kyle walked in, unafraid. “I can tell Reggie to have him leave, if you’d like,” he offered.

  “I never mind company on Christmas. Never.” Eliza kept her back to Kyle.

  “Nice looking guy that David.”

  Eliza slammed a pot.

  Kyle jumped. “All right, Eliza, what is it? You’re mad.”

  “No.” Eliza turned from the stove, her arms folded. “Not mad. Maybe dejected. It’s just... well, Marcus,” Eliza sighed, “never had a relationship, marriage or not, last longer than a year. Reggie’s the only stable woman he has. I was kind of... well, with Reggie finally coming out of her shell, you know, Herbie was that first step. Thank God for Herbie. I was hoping, with this blasphemous clone thing in Marcus’ life, and the trouble he’s going to face...”

  “Eliza, you’re rambling. Spit it out”

  Eliza threw Kyle a scalding look. “Don’t be upset about this. But I was hoping that finally Marcus and Reggie would be together.”

  “Why would that upset me? And, I think your Marcus is thinking that way. He called Reggie up last month and asked her to have his baby.”

  Eliza’s eyes grew wide. “No. Kyle Stevens, you wouldn’t be telling me this to make me feel better now would you?”

  “No. It’s the truth. Called her up and said, ‘Reg, have my kid’. She was up for it, too, but something happened, I don’t know.” Kyle shrugged. “But now, there’s this computer guy... Eliza?” Before Kyle knew it Eliza had picked up a plate of cookies and hastened to the kitchen door. “Where are you going?”

  “Snacks.” She grinned ear-to-ear, b
acking into the kitchen door and humming Joy to the World.

  “Cookies!” she announced, as she set the platter on the coffee table. “And, Reggie, you eat up, sweetie. You’ll need to...” Eliza paused, and then added, “...with you and Marcus making me a grandmother soon.”

  Eliza continued humming in the resultant silence and headed back to the kitchen.

  Kyle stopped her as she passed him in the dining room. “Merry Christmas?” he asked, and then looked at the stunned computer guy.

  “Merry Christmas,” Eliza said.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Westing Biogenetic Institute - Chicago, Illinois

  Reverend Bailey’s vision of the typical scientist was shattered when Marcus met him in the Westing lobby dressed in his usual black tee shirt and Levis. Rev. Bailey was again disappointed by Marcus’s attitude, which didn’t match his carefree attire; and even more so in Marcus’ refusal to allow him past the lobby.

  “So you can see,” Marcus said, “There’s nothing I can tell you.”

  “You can let me see him,” Rev. Bailey suggested.

  “Impossible. He’s in utero.” Marcus raised his brow, and shrugged.

  “Horseshit,” Rev. Bailey snapped. “We both know that man is growing at a year a day.”

  “Nonsense,” Marcus said. “Now if you’ll excuse me. I have company.” Marcus turned to leave.

  “Why did you even bother to come down here?”

  “You asked for someone in charge. I’m it.” Marcus raised his hands as he walked away.

  “You can’t keep an event this important from the public. I will know when it happens.” Rev. Bailey yelled. “The Christians of the world deserve to know! You cannot suppress the Second Coming from....” The elevator doors closed. “Asshole,” he mumbled and turned to the main door.

  After being buzzed into the main apartment hall, the pager on Marcus’ hip went off. “Shit,” he mumbled.

  Overwhelmed by the sudden aroma of turkey, he smiled at Reggie in the tiny kitchen. “Hey, sorry,” he said.

  “Did you get rid of him?” Reggie asked.

  “I hope.”

  “You should have invited him up.”

  “Yeah, right. Smells good.” Marcus walked past the two-foot artificial Christmas tree on the coffee table and continued into the kitchen. “Reg, before we eat and unwrap gifts. They want me in the lab. Want to go?”

  Reggie turned off the stove. “You’re going to let me see Devante now?”

  “Yeah,” Marcus said. He took her arm. “I wanted to prepare you first. But…”

  Reggie paused at the door. “Prepare me for what?”

  “Holy shit!” Reggie’s voice carried from the main lab into the observing office where Marcus stood with Rose.

  “That was all?” Marcus asked.

  “Yes,” said Rose. “A two beat per second increase in heart rate.”

  Marcus nodded. “Text me if anything else happens. We’re having dinner and...”

  “Holy Shit!” Reggie yelled even louder.

  “I’d, uh, better...” Marcus pointed, and then walked into the lab. Reggie stood ten feet from the case. “Reg.”

  “You... you failed to tell me.” Reggie exclaimed, pointing to the case.

  “I wanted to.” Marcus grabbed her hand. “Here, get a closer look.”

  “Oh, I can see just fine.”

  “Come on.” Marcus tugged her.

  “He’s done now, isn’t he?” Reggie asked.

  “Yes. As you can see, he’s finished. We’re just waiting.”

  Devante was no longer an inchoate form. He was complete, with legs, arms, toes, fingers, eyes, even body hair sprouting on his chest and chin. Eyes closed, he looked like a naked man sleeping. A clutch of his long brownish hair dangled over his brow in his suspended state. A small beard graced his chin.

  “This, Marcus, is spooky.”

  “It’s just what I told you. All of this is scientifically impossible. We’re breaking ground here.”

  “He looks way taller than six-foot-one.”

  Marcus nodded. “Actually, we estimate his height at, ready for this,” Marcus swallowed, “six foot ten and a quarter. Give or take a quarter inch.”

  “Shit.” Reggie reached her hand toward the case. It hovered above it as if in hesitation. “Christ was a...” She paused as she examined the naked clone. “...big man.” Reggie whistled. “Well, at least there’s no question whether Christ was circumcised,” she giggled.

  “I can’t believe you said that.” Marcus moved opposite her across the case.

  “What will he be like when he wakes up?”

  “I don’t know. Scientifically, a shell, unable to walk, talk, communicate. Theoretically, he has no prior knowledge. Religiously, he has no soul.”

  “So, he may never wake up. He could be a shell of a man forever?”

  “Could be,” Marcus answered. “At least he wasn’t born on Christmas.”

  “Unless he wakes up tonight,” Reggie said.

  “Christmas is past, Reg,” Marcus said. “Our Christmas doesn’t count.”

  “But it is.” Reggie nodded. “It’s January sixth, Marcus, today’s the feast of the epiphany. Otherwise known as... little Christmas. Or celebration of...”

  Marcus leaned over and peered into the case, then to the heart monitor, which was signaling a new heart rate. He whispered, “...the revealing of Christ.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Marcus’ smile appeared blurred through the glass as he sipped his wine. He and Reggie sat on his living room floor. He reached over her bent legs to the gifts covering the coffee table. “These are all great.”

  Reggie leaned back against the sofa. “Well, everyone bought you the same thing.”

  “So what. I’ll wear them all.” Marcus fingered the stack of black tee shirts as if they were his treasure, then finished his wine. “Reg.” He shifted his body to face her. “May I tell you something?” Marcus stared at her for a moment, spellbound at her oblivious expression. “You know what?” He hesitated. “Never mind.”

  “Marcus?” She pulled his arm back. “You have something to tell me. Go on.”

  He shifted his eyes down to her hand as it grazed his. “All right.” he said, plucking up the courage, inching closer, and speaking softly and seriously. “This whole thing. You coming here. Making a little Christmas for me. It means a lot.” He raised his eyes to the ceiling absently, then back at her. “We’ve known each other for a long time and have seen each other through some hard times, haven’t we?”

  “Yeah, we have. You’ve always been there for me, Marcus.” Reggie smiled.

  “Yes. And you have always been there for me. But...” His voice dropped. “Never like now. Throughout this entire experiment… when everyone else backed off, when everyone else cringed, you stayed strong, and got stronger the more I lost support elsewhere.”

  “My protective instinct, I guess.”

  “I was hoping it was something else,” he murmured.

  She leaned closer, giggling. “What’d you say?”

  “Okay,” Marcus exhaled. “From the onset....” he began.

  “You’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you? You have it all worked out in your head.”

  “Reg, please.” Marcus ran his hand down his face and smiled. “From the onset you’ve played a vital role. You helped in every way you could. You did more than a friend should. And you knew and understood what I was going through. You withstood my boring ‘talking it through’ phases.” He paused. “And, something happened.” He drifted, confused, and then began to ramble. “Maybe I always looked at you differently, Reg. But for the past year or so, every day, I’ve begun to look at you really differently. As an amazing friend, and a remarkable woman. You’re irresistible, funny. Not to mention beautiful.” He leaned over to her. “And there’s nothing I’d like to do more now than to cross the boundaries of friendship... and kiss you.” Marcus moved back abruptly, eyes wide.

  Long moments pass
ed.

  “I can’t believe I just said that.”

  “Marcus... Do it.”

  Marcus quickly looked back. “I’m sorry?”

  “Do it. Now. Step over the boundaries. Kiss me.”

  “How?”

  “However you feel. Honestly Marcus, you’ve asked me for more... like when we were ten. Remember?”

  “Yeah, but, Reg, this isn’t two kids playing doctor.” Marcus swept his hand over the top of his head. “This is way different.”

  “Marcus.” Reggie lowered her eyes. “You were my first kiss.”

  “Yeah, but that was only to see if you would pee your pants.”

  “So what’s the big deal? I want you to kiss me.”

  “Really?” Marcus slid her way, his chest brushing against her knees. Slowly he lowered his lips to hers. “I’m nervous.”

  “So am I, so forgive me if I get giddy.”

  “Forgiven.” He tilted his head to the left, hesitantly bringing his lips closer. A slight giggle escaped them both as Marcus tilted to the right, parting his lips with a smile.

  In a quiet moment, Marcus could hear each beat of his heart, and touched his lips to Reggie’s. Her lips opened slightly before he pulled back.

  Marcus panicked when he heard her soft ‘Oh.’ “What?” he asked.

  “You made my stomach flutter,” Reggie whispered. “And my heart. Feel.”

  Marcus moved his hand to her neck and felt her pulse. “Rapid.” He smiled.

  “You.” Reggie shifted her eyes to his. “Marcus?” she said, breathless, “let’s try that again.”

  With a smile he leaned into her. Just as their lips touched, he felt a vibration on his hip. It wasn’t sexual, but he wished it was. He pulled back.

  “What’s wrong?” Reggie asked.

  Marcus looked down at his cell phone. “Oh my God.” He jumped up, his eyes blinking wildly over the room. “Reg... Reg!” Marcus sputtered. “The clone... Devante... he’s moving.”