“I strongly suspect him in a death.”
“Oh.” She paused a moment to see if I was going to elaborate. I didn’t. “Okay. Then I guess it wouldn’t hurt to be wary, but don’t stop seeing me for my sake. I don’t want to let anyone take someone I care about out of my life with threats.”
Had it been out of concern for her or for myself that I’d suggested we not see each other again? My eyes drifted down to her vandalized, patched-up backpack that sat next to her on the bench.
“What are you doing after the show tonight?” I asked.
She smiled. “Waiting to see you again.”
I gazed at her for a long time. “I don’t know how to tell you this without it sounding sappy.”
She leaned against my arm. “Well, I like sap.”
“Do you know what you’ve saved me from?” It began to dawn on me how close I’d come to living a life I’d have hated. That, like my c-father, I would always be ashamed of. “I was like those kids in Salinger’s book playing in the rye near the cliff. You came out of nowhere and caught me just as I was going over the edge.”
She shook her head. “That’s the sappiest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“I know, I’m sor–” I began, but was interrupted by her kiss. Our first kiss since the last time I saw her in second grade, but this one was on the lips.
Sondheim-2 got me a last-minute ticket, and Evelyn was even more captivating than the opening night. We went out afterwards for hot fudge sundaes, and I laughed more than I had since I was seven years old. Perhaps Evelyn was on a roll. Perhaps it was the relief of having finally at least hinted to someone else of the darkness swirling around my family life. Perhaps I was truly falling in love for the first time in my life, and she was returning that love.
We left the restaurant at two in the morning and walked to her car. We said an awkward good night, and then she came close with a mischievous grin on her face and kissed me. It wasn’t one of Lily’s over-the-top passionate kisses. It was softly, tenderly sensuous, and I wanted it to never stop. We kissed a couple more times before she pulled back, leaving me wobbly.
“Thank you,” I said.
“Thank you,” she responded.
“I guess this is good night, then?”
She laughed. “It’s not Friday Flip-up Day yet, if that’s what you’re hinting at.”
My face grew warm and I stared at my shoes for a moment, chuckling at my own embarrassment. When I looked up again she greeted me with one last, lingering kiss.
“Good night,” she said.
“Good night,” I answered, and I watched as she got settled in her car and drove out of sight.
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And so began my romantic relationship with Evelyn Green. We dated at least twice a week through the end of March and all of April. I was in the news again: Adam-2 breaks off his engagement with Lily-2 for his second grade sweetheart whom he once married on stage, and who was now starring as a clone on the professional stage. We even rated the cover of People-2 magazine.
Evelyn was still busy with Farewell Dolly, which was originally set to close in early May but was extended through June. I tried to focus on finals – my final finals to complete the MBA program at the University of San Diego. Evelyn came to my graduation ceremonies at the end of May, and Aunt Louise joined us along with Blue-3 and her new puppy Pierre-3, and without Lily-2 and Lyle-2. Louise seemed frazzled, and she admitted that she spent most of the time in her room with her pets or minding her own business in her glass garden.
“They’re always so cross!” she said. But she didn’t seem to blame Evelyn for their behavior and was actually very kind to her, at one point going so far as to note that we looked like a nice couple. I felt sorry for Louise. And guilt. They were cross because of me.
Meanwhile, career-wise, my new degree was to automatically bump me into a higher management position at U.S. Cloning Systems, but on my first day at work after graduation, I learned that some members of the board were opposed to my promotion.
“Who are they?” I asked Stan Kushman, my friend and supervisor.
“DeLain, Gainbridge, and Fallows.” Stan was as angry as I was, and only too eager to point them out.
“All three from Lyle’s reign,” I said. “And what are the others saying?”
“They’re trying to stay neutral.”
“I won’t let them.”
“What are you going to do?”
“My c-father left me plenty of information to ensure my place in the company should the old guard oppose me. It’s time to use some of it.”
Three days later a file was anonymously sent to all the board members, the CEO, several company presidents and vice presidents, and numerous media outlets. On it were the details of how board member Terry Fallows, whom my c-father had described as Lyle’s closest confidant, had forged illegal deals with government officials and members of Congress and had used his position to enrich his friends at the expense of the company and its shareholders. All the information was more than twenty-five years old, so the statute of limitations had long since expired, but it was enough to force his disgraced resignation. An investigation that followed would reveal he had continued such practices, and eventually he would serve ten years for his crimes.
After his resignation, I requested a private meeting with the remaining board members and asked them in a roundabout way if there were others opposed to my promotion. All eight of them voiced their unequivocal support. Loyalties to Lyle went only so far, especially since he was now a thirteen-year-old boy who could do little for them, or to them.
A week later it was announced that I was the new director of development in the Artificial Immune System (AIS) Department. I had defeated Lyle-2’s attempt to sabotage my career. It was pleasing, but I knew it was a reason to be more cautious. If he couldn’t get his revenge professionally, he could resort to something worse.
I jumped when I heard the doorbell late at night on Thursday, June 5, 2059 – the 60th wedding anniversary of Adam-1 and Lily-1 and the date Lily-2 and I had set for our wedding. But it wasn’t a vengeful Lyle. The screen revealed Lily leaning against the porch wall, swaying a little, her face downcast.
“Lily, what do you want?”
She reached out to touch the door without looking up. “Just to talk.”
“That’s not a good idea.”
“Please, Adam?”
“I’m gonna call you a cab.”
“No, wait!” she cried as she flopped herself against the door. “Please. I just need to talk for a minute.”
I sighed. “Okay, I’m going to open the door.”
She righted herself and beamed at the swinging of the door. “Thank you,” she said as she stepped through the doorway and then wrapped her arms around me.
“Come on. Stop it,” I said softly but firmly while closing the door behind her.
“We were going to marry today.”
“Is that what you came to say?”
She took a gold locket from her pocket. “Remember your wedding present to me?”
I remembered. I remembered that Christmas morning. The morning of my greatest failure. “I’m calling you a cab.”
“No, you can’t!” She grabbed my shirt and looked into my face, her eyes swelled with fear, the stench of tequila on her breath.
“What’s wrong?”
“You have to take me,” she said.
She grabbed my left hand and tried to pull it under her blouse. I yanked my hand from her grip.
“Lily, get out of here. Now.” My voice cracked. The gravity of what I’d done to her, all those years of misleading her, began to hit me. I needed her to go. Take my guilt with her. Never come back. She had to leave before I realized the events of that Christmas morning hadn’t been my greatest failure after all. That my greatest failure was all the years since.
“No. Please. I can’t live with him anymore. He scares me. He opens the door and looks at me when I’m
in the shower—”
“Jesus, Lily.”
“And sometimes I’ll wake up at night, and he’s standing over me.”
“Then leave,” I said, physically holding her at arms’ length, a feeling of revulsion rising like vomit in my chest. I wanted to be as far from Lyle and Lily as I could. Washed clean of my family. And of myself.
“Please, Adam. I think he wants to do what Daddy did to me—”
“Lily—”
“—and Sarah.”
My knees buckled, barely remained standing.
“That Christmas. You ran upstairs. And I tried to follow. And he picked me up and said it was okay. He said if you didn’t want me, he’d take care of me. And he carried me into his room. And did what he did to us before.”
“Lily, no,” I said, wiping away her tears. For the first time I began to see my mother’s resemblance in Lily. I saw my mom crying after Thanksgiving dinner. I stepped forward and slipped my arms around Lily, holding her close. Her entire body was quaking.
“And I’ve seen him now, in his room watching holotapes of Daddy with women who look like me. And Sarah.”
“Lily, I’m so sorry.”
She was quiet.
“Lily,” I said, raising her chin to look directly in her eyes. “You need to get out of there. Buy a house or rent an apartment. I’ll help you move.”
“Here?”
I backed away a little, holding her hands in mine, shaking my head. “I can’t.”
She frowned. She slipped her hands away and put the locket back in her pocket. “No. I’ll just stay with him, then.”
“Lily, please.”
“At least he wants me,” she said. Then she walked out the door.
I rested my head against the door, but I didn’t go after her. Instead I called Aunt Louise and told her what happened. Louise called me the next day, upset that she was unable to talk Lily into leaving. She said she had fingerprint locks installed on Lily’s bedroom and bathroom doors, but Lily wouldn’t use them. “I don’t want to make him mad,” she told her.
That night I went straight to the home of my free therapist, Reverend Jack Lewis. He had recently completed his graduate degree in divinity and been ordained as a Unitarian minister. But he was better known for his writings, which included numerous articles and now three books about clones and religion, which were widely praised and credited with having had a positive effect on acceptance of clones even among some fairly conservative Christians.
His wife Joy shook her head when she saw me standing at the door with a six-pack of Sam Adams for Jack.
“The Padres are already down three runs.”
“How’s he holding up?”
“He’s doing a lot of praying.”
I heard an expletive come from the living room. “Is that orthodox?”
Joy rolled her eyes and grinned. “I better take the kids out for a walk before the Dodgers score any more runs. You guys have a good talk. Take his mind off the game.”
As Joy readied their two-year-old twins, Jack greeted me with a hug and put four of the beers in the refrigerator, opening two for us.
“So. What happened?” he asked as he muted the game.
I took a drink. “Lily came over last night. She was drunk.”
“Yeah?” he asked. “What did she say?”
I bit my lip. Although Jack was my only confidant, I’d told him very little. “She said that Lyle-1 sexually abused her.” Jack set his beer down and ran his fingers through his hair. “And that Lyle-2 is watching holovideos of his c-father with prostitutes who looked like Lily, and he watches her in the bathroom and when she’s sleeping.” I took another drink. “She wants me to save her from him, but she won’t just leave him. I don’t know what to do.”
Jack was silent for a long time. “Well, you could confront Lyle, but I don’t know if that’ll scare him or make him bolder. She really needs to leave.”
“She won’t. She’d rather be with him than no one.”
Jack nodded. “Then you need to talk her into getting some counseling. I’ve got a contact you can give her. And she needs some self-esteem. Tell her that you love her, that you think she’s a great person, but that you just don’t love her that way.”
“I’ll try it,” I said, and took another drink.
Jack frowned. “I’m sorry, I don’t really know what to say. It’s bad.”
“Yeah.” I turned off the mute, and we watched the rest of the game in silence. The Padres lost.
*
I didn’t call her. I wanted to help Lily, but not as much as I just wanted to get away from her. I just wanted my past to be gone.
A few days later, when I got home, her car was parked in the driveway. I saw her body lying on the front porch. I called to her, but she didn’t respond. I ran, shook her shoulder. “Lily?” My voice sounded too shrill to be mine. What had I done? I held my fingers to her neck to feel for a pulse. I took my cell out, dropped it, picked it up with both hands and dialed 911. The operator answered.
“Please, I need help. 5701 Ridgecrest Lane.”
“What’s the situation, sir?”
“I don’t know. She’s unconscious. Please hurry.”
“Paramedics are on their way. Is she breathing?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know if she’s been drinking or taking any medication or drugs?”
I didn’t answer. I smoothed the hair back from her face. That face had once glowed at me. Back when it showed me the locket she got for Christmas. And the morning before we made love the first time. I’d dreamt that night of her hands covered in blood. My subconscious was as complete a hypocrite as myself.
“Sir? Are you still there?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know what happened?”
“Yes.”
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After they took her to the hospital, I called Evelyn. She arrived ten minutes later.
“Have you heard anything?” she asked as she held me close.
“She’s conscious. They’ve pumped her stomach. They think she’ll be okay.”
“Are you going to be okay?”
I nodded. “I have to tell you something,” I said as I took her hand and led her to the couch. But when we sat, I couldn’t start.
“Adam?” Her hand worked its way over mine, comforting me. “It’s okay.”
I told her what Lily said about Lyle-1 and her fears about Lyle-2. And then I told her what happened after we parted that last day before winter vacation in second grade: the real story of my mother’s murder, how I’d been running away in fear as she was shot, seeing Lyle getting ready to kill me in the reflection of my dead mother’s eyes and selfishly saving myself as her unseeing eyes watched me, my foiled effort to avenge her by killing Lyle, and my humiliation Christmas morning as the gun sat in front of me amidst the wadded photos of my mother while Lyle leered above me – and again I ran away.
I couldn’t look her in the eye as I told the story, holding my hands in front of my face. When I was done, she held me close. After a while she pulled my hands from my face and kissed me. She led me up to my bedroom and we made love for the first time. As she held me, her soft, jasmine-scented skin moving with mine, all my problems and all my failures temporarily disappeared from my mind. For a while I once again began to believe that there might be a heaven, and that the God in it might be good. And that I could be forgiven.
*
The show closed a couple weeks later, and the producers began making plans for its Broadway run. Evelyn decided not to return home to New York for a while, moving out of the temporary housing the theatre had provided and moving in with her mother.
From the first, Hannah didn’t support human cloning. Her resentment deepened when she lost her husband in an explosion perpetrated by anti-cloners. Before Lily’s suicide attempt, Hannah had been polite to me, though certainly never excited at my presence. Afterwards, she went from neutral to cold. I didn’t kn
ow what all Evelyn had shared with her mom, but the suicide attempt alone may have been enough to suggest my family was still a danger to hers.
Evelyn was upstairs getting changed, and it was the first time I’d ever been alone with Hannah. My palms were sweating as Hannah laid out her next game of solitaire on the dining table. I was hoping Evelyn’s backstage experience had made her a quick-change artist.
“So things are going well between you two?” she asked.
“Yes ma’am, I’m deeply in love with your daughter.”
She nodded as if she expected this, looking over her cards. She rubbed her earlobe hidden behind her gray hair. “You know, I remember the Winter Wonderland skit quite clearly. You almost abandoned my daughter at the altar,” she said slyly, jokingly. Humor, that was good! I relaxed a little.
“Just acting,” I said.
“Badly,” she responded.
“Everyone’s a critic,” I said, smiling. “I’d never act that badly to your daughter again.”
She frowned. Her eyes, which so closely resembled Evelyn’s, focused on mine and lost any hint of playfulness. “Don’t you think it might be better for her if you did?”
I shrugged. “I completely understand your opinion, Mrs. Green, and I suggested we end the relationship before it even got going, but that’s not the way Evelyn wants to live her life.”
“And I admire her for that. But you don’t have to live your life that way. You can save hers by leaving her.”
“Maybe you’re right, and maybe I should leave her,” I admitted. “But I love her too much to walk away.”
“You’re that selfish?”
“I guess I am.”
Hannah pushed all the cards together into a jagged mess. I figure I’d feel the same way if the situation were reversed.
“If anything happens to her, you’ll have her blood on your hands. But it’ll be too late.”
I stared at my hands. I said nothing.
Hannah broke the silence. “Was your clone-father so cold?”
A pile of embers in my chest started to glow. An old defensiveness. “That’s part of it, isn’t it? You don’t want your daughter to marry a human clone.”
“You know very well what concerns me. That and the fact that we have no idea what defects your children may face.”