Henry skulked home just as the sun began to peek over the horizon. We had spent the night on my porch swing, too tired to sleep.
The day broke, and still in limbo between wired and exhausted, I set to work on the items my boss sent me, having them done and dusted by noon.
The group text had churned up a date for our picnic, and we decided that the next day would suit everyone. There was a movie night planned in our local park, so we decided we'd arrive early, have dinner, and enjoy the film. Kirsten would be off work in plenty of time, and we were all eager to meet Jin-young.
I settled on the couch for a nap, and my phone pinged. A text from an unsaved number. Angela got me a phone this morning. I got your number from her contacts.
Who is this? I asked.
Henry. Though I'd rather you call me Mark.
I saved the number in a blink. I was impressed how quickly he was learning how to use his phone. He'd probably never had one before.
She's not upset is she?
No, she isn't. I don't think she even knew I was gone.
I let out a sigh of relief. Are you liking your new phone?
Yeah, its the newest model from Apple. I was really shocked at how much Angela spent on it.
I still have their 6th generation phone, I haven't even thought about a new one since this one works fine.
I chewed my bottom lip, then felt a slight smile creep onto my face. I don't know what it was about him, but he made me feel like a teenager again.
I've also texted Em so she could have my new number. She said something about a picnic and a movie in the park? he asked.
Yes. We're going early so we can eat before the movie.
Okay, I will let Angela know.
I was typing out a reply when I was interrupted with a phone call, "Hello?"
"I'm sure you know Henry got a phone. You were probably the first person he texted!" Em gushed.
"Very funny, Em."
"So about the picnic tomorrow. I think Kirsten and I have agreed we're all going to wear white sundresses. I don't want you to have to worry about a single thing. Finn and I will bring dinner for the three of us, and a blanket just for you."
"To what do I owe your kindness, Em?" I was suspicious. Usually when others were generous to me, they wanted something.
"You can pay me back in tawdry details. I recall clearly you had me checking to see if Angela had spiraled into a rage last night."
"The tawdry details are none of your business," I laughed, "however I will gladly dish the disappointing ones."
"Was he a bad kisser or something?"
"Em. You remember when we saw them pass by in the car?"
"Yeah, I also saw them coming back home, through my kitchen window, when I was doing dishes. What's your point?"
"Em, she took him back to the lab. They injected him with something, and apparently had to hold him down to do it."
Em was silent.
"You should have seen the state it left him in. Eyes wide as saucers, the anger, the panic, the paranoia, the..." I cleared my throat, "unusual appetite."
"Oh my god. Do you have any idea what they gave him?"
"Kirsten said it could have been a testosterone cocktail, but there's no way of knowing what it was without lab testing."
"I can't believe she would do that. To think that his unwillingness doesn't have anything to do with how he feels, that she can just force this on him."
"Em, you know she doesn't think like we do."
"I know a girl in my yoga class who just quit from her position as hiring manager at that company. She didn't tell any of their secrets, but she thoroughly described the amount of exit paperwork she had to sign, in the presence of their in-house legal counsel. My guess is some of those papers essentially said 'blab about this lab and we will destroy your life.' "
"Something is rotten in the state of Denmark."
"No kidding."
"On a happier note, I think Henry is probably excited to meet Jin-Young tomorrow."
"I'm excited to meet him," she dropped to a whisper, "Kirsten has sent me some pictures of them together, and he is gorgeous."
"Em! You are a spoken-for lady."
"I know. I still reserve the right to appreciate the beauty of other human beings."
"Fine. I will talk to you later, Em. I need to go eat something."
"Alright then. Don't forget, white sun dress tomorrow!"
"Sure, sure. Bye."
I heated some leftovers and checked my e-mail. Nothing more from work just yet. Out of curiosity, I Yoogled Andromedon Technologies LLC, and began to deep dive through the search results.
Video results showed interview after interview of successful couples. Lonely women of all ages made happy by their men, from trust fund brats to spinsters. I never understood how a woman could date a man half her age, but then again, I'd not aged enough to find out.
I clicked on the search result that linked to their website. It was littered with stock photos of beautiful men, and happy couples. I clicked 'about us,' and read a nauseating page about a single mother with a dream: to start her own business and attain her perfect man. So she poured her life's savings into backing the research that made this company possible. Her little blurb was tailed by a photo of the lead researcher, Susan Koeger. There was no information about her or the other researchers. Nothing to credit their education, or any other credentials were made public.
I clicked over to the legal team, which was astounding. Twenty lawyers, with five of them being in-house legal counsel. All of them attended prestigious colleges of law, and had every pertinent qualification listed. Why do you need twenty lawyers to defend a laboratory that fabricates people? They're real people, but they're products of genetic engineering. Or, what if they aren't?
I closed my browser quickly and tried not to think too hard. It was not the time to get ahead of myself. I did not need to be chasing conspiracy theories around my head all day. What if they're kidnapped people from the street, who have had their memories earased? What if they're clones made from people who didn't consent to giving DNA samples? What if they're stolen babies, forced to age through a miracle of science? What if they're paid actors, and this whole thing is a prank?
I flopped onto the sofa, covering my face with my hands. Henry was there for a year. They only took two weeks to prepare him for Angela. But how did they do that? Brainwashing? Drugs? Threats? Is he a paid actor, am I being punked?
I shook my head, as if to shake the strange thoughts out of it. There was no way Henry was in on it, everything he did was genuine. I drug my hands across my face, "I have to stop calling him Henry. Mark, Mark, Mark! He wants to be called Mark."
Like a certain stripe wearing film-character, you say his name enough times and he'll appear.
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