Chapter 5: The Cure

“I'm a what?” Wade exclaimed.

          Ms. Corbin Leaned forward. “Is it so hard to believe? You arrived here in your mid twenties. You have no memories of your life before you arrived. You have no scars. You have no blemishes. And you learned what normally takes twenty-two years in fifteen weeks! You learned it all so fast because you have already learned it before. We simply had to remind you. Your name is Wade. It has always been Wade, or some variation.”

          Margaret took a deep breath and continued.

          “You remember when we learned mythology?” She asked. 

          Lila leaned forward, not wanting to miss his reaction.

          “Yes, it was my favorite subject. The ideas were insane. Why?” Wade asked.

          “Well, Your name is Wade. Originating from Wōden, the wanderer.”

            Wade's eyes lit up. “ Wōden? I was named after Wōden? If I am immortal, how old am I?”

            “You misunderstand Wade. You weren't named after Wōden, you were Wōden.”

            Margaret sat back and simply waited for Wade to comprehend. Lila, however, didn't have that kind of patience.

            “This will help you wrap your head around the idea.” Lila said as she shoved a needle in Wade's upper arm.

            Wade winced at the pain and blinked several times, as if to clear his eyes of debris. The peaceful feeling that had been with him since he met Margaret Corbin had begun to fade. He could feel his mind warm up. Synapses firing more and more. Suddenly a massive headache ensued. Bowling over, Wade held his head in his hands.

            “The headache will pass. I simply woke you up. We have been numbing your mind to prevent you from thinking too much about the environment we needed to keep you in. Your curiosity almost made the inoculation useless. Come back tomorrow morning and we will continue. Ms. Corbin, would you escort him to his new quarters please?”

            Margaret stood from her chair and lifted Wade from his seat. With a gentle tug, she led him out the main door and into the elevator. Descending to the living quarters floor, she opened up room seventeen, which was reserved for him. Dimming the lights she walked him to his bed and sat him down. Lifting his shoes off his feet, she couldn't look at him like an innocent anymore. She saw a confused man. A broken shell of a god. She had his file for a week before they were introduced. Studying every aspect of his chronicles and exploits. Knowing every dark secret and every legend and myth that surrounded him. He became much more to her than a patient. He became her role model.

            Pulling his socks off his feet, she turned his body to lay down. Leaving the rest of the clothes in tact, she pulled a light blanket over him and pulled a seat next to the bed. As she rocked back, he whispered.

            “Do you believe any of this?” Wade asked.

            “Any of this? You mean who you are or who I am?” She retorted.

            “Any of it.” Wade replied.

            With a soft whisper she answered.

            “I lived my life, I know my life. Just as you have lived yours. You left a legacy that can only be whispered. Your legend is so extraordinary that those of us who know the truth, have trouble believing it ourselves.”

            Leaning closer, her breath tickling his ear, she finished.

            “Wade, Waden, Vaden, Wōden, Odin, whoever you want to be called. You are special beyond your understanding. You are the oldest of all of us.”

            With the painful concepts flooding his fragile mind, Wade put them all aside and focused on silence. The silence of the underground room. Focusing on the smell of the fresh sheets he was covered with. The smell of the immortal by his side. In his peaceful room, his manic mind fell at ease only to Margaret's gentle scent. Peace once again, Wade fell silently to sleep.