18

A Chapter by Bob

They are on the road, it was all smooth sailing and not the fun kind. It’s one long dusty road and before they knew it they see the sign ‘Welcome to Wild Misty’. “Home not- so sweet home.” John laughed and although they’d dreaded coming back to their original birthplace, they knew it wasn’t that bad here. He had friends in the neighbourhood but when you’re five it’s not that hard to make friends. He learnt to ride bike here, played catch with the old man, had his first crush, all the those childhood memories you suppose to treasure when you get older. All those memories were hazy, the sub had to dig deep for some of them and even then, it was vague images. They drove to the old house, which wasn’t easy when you’re five you don’t really have much of internal compass. John thought it might bring back some of his memory if he saw his old street, old house or anything in fact; also, they had to find out where his father was. To them this was a get in, get it done and get the hell out of there job but when they got there it was not what they expected. “White picket fence, manicured lawn and even a tire swing. Jeez what kind of people lives here?” John thought it would be best to try to find information elsewhere and where better to find info than at the local watering hole. It was a cool afternoon and whoever’s at a bar, drinking this time of day definitely knows a thing or two. “Vaccines, it’s nice name for a bar.” John found exactly what he’d expected, a couple old men drinking in a dark dump in the middle of the afternoon. The place was all doom and gloom in there and it was going to take some convincing but he had to blend in. After two beers and gradually adding his two cents to the local sports news John started asking the questions he came here to have answered, “Damn this place hasn’t changed one bit.” “You can say again.” Answered the Ed he was the bald drunk next to him. “Believe me that aint a bad thing, still better than those big cities with their gay rights and hippie bullshit.” Charlie said. He was playing pool with another man that didn’t say anything but laugh. John broke up the laughter, “I used to visit here with my dad, and he had a friend that lived in the house up in Greenwich. He was some kinda scientist.” “Smart as a whip that fella.” The Barman was first to respond and that opened up the floor. “Yeah my wife said he was some kinda witch,” “he sure was a dumb b*****d to let that pretty red head go.” “I heard he was working on some top secret project.”, “I think I saw the feds at his place one time.” John had heard enough, “any of you know where he’s at these days?” “Aint he still in that house in Greenwich?,” said Ed “No there’s a new couple living there now,” said the Barman. The man that never spoke a word yelled from the pool table, “Hell he’s probably living in that damn lab, person that chooses work over his own family aint right in the head. No other place he’d be but there.”

It didn’t take John long to find the university, he took a private tour of the campus but was unable to find the lab. Eventually he started talking to different students, he said he was considering coming here and wanted their opinion. John used his vast knowledge to get them talking, not just about the curriculum but other things too, like rumours. One of the rumours being the mysterious lab in the basement, the one that’s never spoken about, you never see any people there just always things being delivered, “I saw them wheel in a body once, I mean I didn’t see the body, it was a silvery body bag,” said one girl that he spoke to. He snuck downstairs easily; opening the door to the lab, the smell of chemicals immediately overwhelmed him. It was a big lab, not what he expected though. It looked like the old man got this lab in the 60s and never changed a thing. He expected to see all white walls with glass sliding doors that opened when you approached but instead it was the complete opposite, it really looked like a basement, unpainted walls with a rusted door. He hoped to see some high tech equipment and touch screen computers up against the walls but instead there were pages everywhere, a very old computer and Bunsen burners, the sort of things you’d find in a high school science class.

There were noises emanating all around, the outdated equipment hard at work. However, above them all he heard someone speaking rapid and incomplete. It was a male voice talking to himself and John recognised the crazy talk, not the voice. The only reason for speaking like that was when you’re overflowing with ideas and they’re coming to fast. “You are not allowed in here, please leave.” The man didn’t look up, he just kept jumping from on board to the next scribbling alien equations. He looked the same, just older. His dress, lab, way of speaking made him seem a little crazy. “That’s a cliché Johnny, a senile genius scientist really?” “I’m here to talk to you.” John said while stepping closer so the old man could see him He sighed loudly and was about to dismiss the young man. When he saw John, he immediately recognised him, you could see it all over his face, “John is that you?” He asked “Yeah, in the flesh.”He took John’s face his hands and scrutinized it then his arms and legs “can we talk?” asked John. He wasn’t up for doing the reunion banalities so he decided to get down to business as soon as possible. “Of course of course,” he pulled two chairs closer and they sat in front of the blackboards.

They started with the usual, “What have you been up to?”, then the awkward, “How’s your mother doing?” and the inevitable, “Why’d you split up?” It wasn’t complicated, he was obsessed with his work (still is) and the family was amazing but not enough. John wanted to ask him about his gift but thought it better to get to know the old man first. They had a lot in common, obviously there intelligence. John senior was overjoyed at having someone he could talk science with, he walked John through his equations and John weighed in too. The old man was a hippie in his day too and listened to John’s stories without any judgment or parental need to address his behaviour. He took out an old record player and played Jefferson Airplane from a vinyl he bought before John was born. He told his own stories and for a scientist who is living in his lab with no human contact he sure was livewire back in the day. John senior made omelettes as the afternoon became night and they carried on with the pleasant conversations. As it was late and John hadn’t made any living arrangements he stayed with his dad in the lab, luckily he had a futon available.

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