Lyle nee Jules: Chapter Two

Being who he was, it not surprising that Lyle Masters bypassed the increased security of the psychiatric wing. Ever since the public announcement of Cognizant Metastasis, people have been seeking Secondaries, poaching suicidal souls and the mentally disturbed. Jules understand why someone would find this ethically questionable but frankly, it was logical. And to be asked by Lyle Masters of all people, it was a no brainer.

He looked older than he did in the newspapers but carried the same air of jocularity, eyes twinkling even when gently placing his hand on hers and stating his proposition in a faint voice, a notch above a whisper. Lyle Masters. The built-from-nothing business man. The man who sits at the very top office of his record holding skyscraper. The man who clutches his morning coffee in the clouds, looking down upon his empire. The man that despite all the wealth, the accolades, the never ending conquests, carried no air of intimidation. Even his building cast a warm shadow, never an eyesore but a beacon of comfort only matched by the North Star.

And the fact that his insides were loosing the battle to cancer seemed to be the perfect evidence that life is completely and utterly dooming. 

That’s why Jules jumped (she enjoys joking with him because of the dark pun) at the chance to donate her life for his. It would be an act of defiance against the nature of human existence, to prove that a good man will live.

Still, Lyle felt only right that he should at least give her the pitch. The day after he found her she was moved to a private room filled with flowers. He sat by her side, slowly and deliberately executing his plea, insisting that he would find no fault in her if she rejected the offer. He would give her anything she wanted and erect buildings in her honor. Most of all he insisted that he wouldn’t abuse his gift and live his gifted life fully and justly. He insisted that she should hold him accountable from the afterlife. 

She did find it odd that someone so sure and comforted by the idea of heaven would be so reluctant to avoid it. He was a godly man, spiritual in all the ways that one should be. If Jules found the idea of death appealing, even when she frequently rejected the concept of an afterlife, why would she be the one racing toward the end?

The head scientists had mixed feelings on Primary and Secondary fraternization. Some believed that it could affect the process negatively. People do not get a chance to look at themselves fully from the outside, to see themselves as others see them. There would be series psychological implications to even unconsciously know yourself before becoming yourself, an existential spoiler alert. Other researchers believed that a Secondary had to know their Primary in order to obtain the purest sense of altruism. It gave motivation and purpose. The two opposing camps decided to study both cases, every week jotting down any evidence that their idea of procedure was better than the other.

Both camps did decide that Primary and Secondary communication needed to cease after week six, when the first signs of physical transformation started to appear. While Mr. Masters didn’t break many rules, he freely broke that one, bribing the nurses and guards to go for walks with Jules. It was the only thing that made the great experiment enjoyable.

In another life, a life in which she had found Lyle when she was a child or impressionable youth, she could have been happy. He was a calming man. He truly listened to people, indicating comprehension of not just their thoughts but their feelings. He would nod as he listened, staring slightly off into an unfocused distance. He had a particular quirk of “Hm”ing quietly by exhaling through his nose, indicating understanding but never judgement. The Hm would become more paced on particularly descriptive talks, a vocal tide rolling in and out but never changing volume or timbre.

She enjoyed how each talk would be like a separate encyclopedia entry from the talk before. One day, she discussed her upbringing; the rocky foundation beginning with a pill popping mother and a father frequently absent in both body and mind. She talked about the many times she ran away, only to return, feeling guilty about leaving her sister behind. She talked about the final time she ran away and then the final time she came back to find that she was too late. And that’s when that chapter ended. Her family was thankfully never discussed again. On to the next entry.

They tried not to discuss the infinite philosophical theories on Cognizant Metastasis. There was one attempt on a hot summer Wednesday and it ended with frustration. Jules wanted a true discourse with him about the deeper meaning of it all. The hypotheticals. Would she truly just disappear or would he sometimes catch flair of memory in a passing smell or song? What happens to a person erased? And if it was possible to be completely saved, what is to stop him from finding another secondary, absorbing souls until the end of time?

It must have been her sheer bluntness on the futility of life that bothered him. He didn’t Hm, he pursed his lips and furrowed his brow. She knew he struggled with the idea of her glee in nonexistence and often reassured him that once the procedure was over he would presumably not remember her at all, not even her name, and that would surely assuage him from any guilt. But he still pursed and furrowed and finally walked off. It was the only time she ever thought of him as a coward.

The day after was the only conversational sequel they ever had. Reluctantly, he indulged in philosophy and theory. They talked for a very long time, well into the evening, both missing scheduled dinners and making their nurses deeply concerned. The discussion ended in a concrete conclusion. It was decided that for now, she would tell him her stories. There was no need for any of his emotion or attempts of empathy. There was no need to waste time spinning circles around the theoretical. He would appreciate the life he was taking by giving it its final moments in the sun.

After her drip she shuffled back to her room to shower and throw on some make up over her increasingly pallid face. It became an easy task to sneak out through the stairwell at the end of the dorm hall. Skipping down the steps and out the door, she sauntered into the purposefully cleared garden which was actually Lyle’s donation to the hospital many years before. He was waiting on the regular bench, under the shade of a tree, eating almonds.

“Hello.” Jules settled next to him, helping herself to some almonds.
“Hi there. How are you feeling?”
“The knees are starting to kill me. They’re so stiff.”
“I know how you feel.” He winked.
“What kind of story are you in the mood for? Sad? Scary? Fun?”
“Happy.”
“If I had those kinds of stories I probably wouldn’t be there.”
“I disagree. If you didn’t have any at all you wouldn’t have even gotten a chance to meet me.”
She thought for a moment, somewhat caught off guard at his bluntness. “I guess that could be true.”
“Come on. I would like happy today.”
“OK. Happy....happy. Let’s see...” She looked up at the sky, trying to see where one cloud ended and another began, scanning her memories. “Yes. OK. I got one. I’m ready.”

Mr. Masters leaned against the tree behind him and closed his eyes, getting ready to Hm.