All my belongings were moved into an upstairs bedroom. That first day, I walked to the desk in front of the window that looked out to the large backyard. The yard was filled with trees, their leaves just starting to turn yellow and red. The afternoon sun came through and filled the room.
“All right, well, Robert and I will be downstairs if you need anything.”
“Thanks, Aunt Cathy.”
They didn’t know their voices carried upstairs from the living room.
“Are we really doing the right thing?” Cathy asked.
“No doubt. I don’t want him raised by their long-forgotten second cousin who lives in a God-knows-where little town in Iowa,” Robert said.
“I guess,” Cathy said. “But talk about a lot of changes for the poor child. I just hope we can get him through them all.”
“There’s a team of lawyers working it all out. He’ll get a healthy chunk of money just from the selling of the house and furniture, not to mention John has 40 percent ownership in the company.”
“I’m not talking about those changes! I mean living here, with us, in this house. The boy is going to feel like a stranger here. We’re going to have to work very hard to make him feel welcome and at home,” Cathy said. “I can only imagine how he feels basically losing both parents.”
“We will, honey, we will. We owe it to him, and it’s the least we can do for Sean.”
I could tell that Uncle Robert and Aunt Cathy had tried their best to comfort and help me through the previous few months. I didn’t feel bad about being there; I truly liked them and couldn’t think of a better place to be, given the circumstance.
The stable home life enabled my academic work to pick up speed. Early graduation from high school, then Harvard. Again, an early graduation with my Bachelor’s and Master’s degrees. I won’t take up space here listing my academic achievements; they can be found online easily enough. Just before I started on my Ph.D., I made a trip home. Aunt Cathy insisted. I assumed it was because I’d been away for such a long stretch and she wanted to make sure to get some time before the Ph.D. work started. It was on my second night home, once we were seated at one end of the long dark mahogany table in the dining room, when Uncle Robert broke the news.
“I’m retiring.”
I was stunned for a moment. “Well, well that is great! What are you now, forty-five? Still young, Aunt Cathy is even younger. You guys can travel the world, see some sights. God knows you have been working hard for the last twenty years. You’ve done well so you can do whatever you want. I have to say, though, I am surprised. A life-long workaholic like you, checking it in early.” I smiled at Uncle Robert, who didn’t smile, then at Aunt Cathy. She didn’t smile back either. “So how come I’m the only one who seems to be happy about this?”
“I really didn’t want to retire, but Cathy and I think it is the best decision considering…”
“Considering what?” I looked at Cathy, who was looking down at her plate.
“I went to the doctor a few months ago, had some tests run. And the results weren’t good news. They tell me I have cancer.”
“What kind of—”
“In my brain.”
I could feel a surge, something like fear and panic, but I could see no threat in front of me and my mind couldn’t reconcile it. “Did you get a second opinion?” I asked.
“Three of them. They all said the same thing.”
“What are they going to do? There must be something?”
“There is medication and radiation… because of where it’s located, surgery isn’t an option. We’re going to fight it, but the doctors did not sound too optimistic. So, we thought it was important for you to know. Cathy is going to need your help one day. But who knows, maybe some brilliant doctor like yourself will come along and find a cure.
“The board has already picked my replacement. His name is Dr. Phillip Jones. I think you should meet him. You’ll be on the board of directors soon enough, so I think it’s important to start introducing you around.”
“If you say so.”
“Good, we’ll go tomorrow.”
I remember the next day, looking up at the three-story red brick building. The parking lot for employees was across the street. At the very top of the building, in shiny metallic letters, was written “The Numen Company.” I hadn’t been there since my father died.
“A lot has changed inside. We have a much bigger lab and a lot more people,” Robert said.
The receptionist gave us a nod. Uncle Robert swiped his identification card over a gray pad next to a door on the left side of the lobby. He pulled the handle and we entered a hallway with doors to many offices. As I walked by each one, I saw one or two people seated at desks busily typing at the computer or talking on the phone. Near the end of the hall, where it made a right-hand turn, Robert opened a door with the nameplate “Dr. Phillip Jones.” To the right a blonde secretary was typing away at her computer.
“Good morning, Elizabeth,” Robert said.
“Good morning, Mr. Edward. Dr. Jones is expecting you.”
Robert opened the oak door to the left of the secretary’s desk, and we stepped into the office.
Dr. Jones sat behind a large dark oak desk with papers in disarray on top. He was older than Robert, with almost totally white hair and a receding hairline. He had a barrel-shaped upper body and almost no neck. He wore a white long-sleeved dress shirt, whose buttons were under a bit of a strain just above the belt, with a blue tie and dark dress pants. In front of the desk sat a young man in jeans and a brown tweed jacket, who appeared to be in his late twenties. He had thick glasses on his nose and a kippah on top of his head. Both men stood when the door opened.
“Hello, Robert,” Dr. Jones said. “And this must be John Numen. It’s a pleasure.” Dr. Jones extended his meaty hand across the desk and I shook it. Dr. Jones nodded to the man in the thick glasses and said, “This is Dr. Ethan Shinwell. He’s our newest and brightest biochemist at the company.”
I felt like a teenager who had been set up on a blind date with his cousin.
“Dr. Shinwell has done some very interesting work at NYU. He has been with us about a year now and has really hit the ground running.” I shook Ethan’s hand. “Dr. Shinwell stopped by to talk about some matters with the lab. I suggested he stick around to meet you. I mean, after all, it won’t be long before John here will be on the board of directors. You and John will be working here together some day.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” I said. Have you ever met someone and you can tell right away they don’t like you? That was what I felt from Ethan. I didn’t know then that he treated the whole world like that, with a constant air of moral and intellectual superiority. He was always sure either in one or both of those ways he was superior to everybody else. I’m sure he wanted to work his way up in the company; he knew about me before I’d ever heard about him. He thought I would be an obstacle to his advancement. He didn’t know how right he was.
“It was nice to meet you both, but I really need to get back to the lab. If you will excuse me.” He left the room and closed the door. Dr. Jones motioned for me to sit in the chair Ethan had vacated, and Robert sat in the other chair.
“I like that young man, but he has the social skills of a seventh grader,” Dr. Jones said.
“Not everybody can be as charming as you,” Robert said.
Dr. Jones smiled. “I sure am going to miss you blowing smoke up my ass around here. How old are you now, John?”
“Twenty-four.”