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For the next two weeks, Tim was busy making plans for his trip to the Dominican Republic and saw little of Mary Ann. He did go to the Goose, but Mary Ann was doing her usual “you’re just another customer” routine.
Tim was getting better at not paying attention to her. Tim was becoming so good at not paying attention to Mary Ann, in fact, that he was also missing the loving looks she would occasionally send his way. Mary Ann even sent him a text asking if he still liked her, which Tim responded to with three red hearts.
But Tim’s mind was on his trip.
The night before Tim’s flight, Mary Ann came over with a pizza. She made Tim give her his contact information at the CBSCRC, then helped him pack and spent the night with him. In the morning, Mary Ann made sure he was in a cab headed to BWI, kissed him goodbye, and watched him drive away.
Tim watched as they turned the corner and suddenly wondered if he was making the right decision. Maybe he should just try to get Mary Ann out of that bar so that they could live out their lives together—but he wondered if Mary Ann would ever consider giving up her independence to be with him. Perhaps Tim should just see this stem cell treatment through and decide about Mary Ann when he returned. Sure, that made sense...or he hoped it did, at least.
Tim’s flight to Santo Domingo from Miami was uneventful (as all of Tim’s airplane flights had been), and two large and smiling Dominican men met him as he exited through customs. One held a sign that read, “Mr. Timothy Hall, Baltimore, MD.”
“Are you Mr. Hall?” the man with the sign asked.
Tim just nodded.
“From Baltimore, Maryland?”
Tim mumbled, “Yes,” and began to look around the small but very busy airport.
“Welcome, sir. How was your flight? May we take your luggage?”
Before Tim could answer, the man took Tim’s bag, saying, “Please, sir, this way.”
Tim followed the man with his bag and noticed the other man falling into step directly behind him.
There was something going on out in front of the airport, perhaps a protest of some kind. There were police and maybe soldiers all around, but Tim’s escorts paid this little mind and continued to walk through the crowd.
They stopped at a black SUV that was waiting in the parking lot. There was a third man in the driver’s seat. The man with Tim’s bag sat next to the driver, while the big man sat next to Tim.
“I have been to Baltimore. It’s a beautiful city,” the man said to Tim.
Tim ignored the comment and continued to observe the protest. Two soldiers were dragging a screaming woman from the airport parking lot. “What’s going on here?” he asked.
“They are just having a fight,” the big man answered with a smile.
Tim decided to drop the matter.
The SUV traveled almost a quarter of a mile through lush flowers and exotic trees before it reached the main entrance to the CBSCRC, which looked more like a resort than a hospital or clinic. The car took one loop around the circular driveway and stopped at the front.
At that point, another smiling man stepped forward and opened Tim’s door. “Mr. Tim?” he asked.
Tim looked up and replied sleepily, “Yeah, my name is Tim...”
The man cut him off. “Mr. Tim, my name is Amin, and I will be your guide as you embark on your new journey.”
At first, Tim had thought that Amin was another Dominican man, yet he was somewhat smaller, and his accent did not sound as French. More Middle Eastern or Pakistani? Tim wondered how he would even know what nationality someone was, anyway.
“Come,” Amin said. “The doctor would like to see you right away.”
Before Tim could say another word, he was led to an elevator, taken one flight up, and escorted into the waiting room of Dr. Richard Justice. Amin led Tim to a chair and disappeared through a door.
The same door opened a minute later, and an attractive nurse with shoulder length red hair appeared. “Tim? I’m Jennifer, Dr. Justice’s nurse. If you will come with me, we can take some blood.”
Tim followed Nurse Jennifer down a short hallway and into a room with a large chair with straps on either side of the arms. Nurse Jennifer smiled. “This is my chair of torture. Please take a seat.”
Somehow, Tim found her request a little sexy and did not think twice about sitting in a chair that included restraints.
Nurse Jennifer looked at both of Tim’s arms before deciding on the left one, then looped a Velcro strap around it. Next, she picked up the largest needle Tim had ever seen in his life, softly saying, “If you’re afraid of needles, I suggest you look the other way.”
Tim closed his eyes, but he still felt Nurse Jennifer stick needles in his arm several times in different places. Every so often, Nurse Jennifer would reassure Tim that she was almost finished, yet the blood-taking seemed to last forever.
Finally, after twenty minutes or so, Nurse Jennifer cheerfully remarked, “All done.”
Tim glanced over at his arm and counted seven bandages. “What the fuck?” he said, but Nurse Jennifer had already left the room.
Amin was now standing in the doorway, saying, “Dr. Justice would like to see you now.”
Amin led Tim into a large office with a window overlooking the water. Tim had no clue what water he was looking at, since he hadn’t bothered to look at any maps, but he assumed it had to be some part of the Atlantic.
There was a knock on the door, and a stout man in his 50s entered the room and extended his hand. “Richard Justice at your service, Mr. Hall.”
The doctor sat behind his desk and opened a file, which Tim imagined to be his own. They sat in silence, minutes passing before the doctor spoke again.
“Mr. Hall, you are 70 years old?”
“I’m in my late 50s.”
Doctor Justice didn’t seem to hear Tim. “And I would say that you have probably five more years to live. Would you agree with that, Mr. Hall?”
Tim was shocked to hear such a prognosis. “How the hell can you make that prediction? I’ve only been here an hour.”
Dr. Justice held up his hand for Tim to stop. “Calm down, Tim,” he said, taking a more personal tone. “I have in front of me your medical records for the last 10 years. Without going into great detail, that is how it looks to me. I assure you; I have been doing this for a very long time.”
The doctor pulled a paper out of Tim’s file and began to read. “For example, your most recent blood work, the blood you provided to your dental implant clinic, shows me a number of markers that indicate that you will have a stroke before you are 70. Your body is really not programmed to live much beyond 80 years. That’s a fact...but perhaps we can change it.”
Tim sat back, astounded. How the hell had these people gotten his medical records? Wasn’t that illegal? But he was in the Dominican Republic now, where American laws did not apply, he remembered.
“Mr. Hall, we feel that we have discovered a process using stem cells that will completely rejuvenate your cell structure. At a certain age, we no longer produce new cells, which is why we age. However, if the human body could continue to grow new cells, well, sir, we could become immortal.”
Tim had been looking down at the floor, but now looked up to see Dr. Justice standing by the window, staring out to the ocean. “You were chosen out of thousands, Mr. Hall, because your body is at the correct stage to begin such a treatment,” he continued. “So, it is we who need your help. Will you help us?”
Tim got up and joined the doctor at the window. “Now look, doctor, I came down here with my life savings of $20,000. After deducting my airfare, $17,500 is what I have left. The price of immortality would be somewhat higher than that, would you not agree?”
Dr. Justice turned and placed his hand on Tim’s shoulder. “Tim, I am a doctor and scientist. I am not seeking to make a fortune.”
The doctor returned to his desk and sat down. “However, every bit of funding helps our research, so your $17,500 donation is greatly appreciated.”
Amin, Tim’s guide, suddenly appeared at the door. “Amin will make sure that your donation is successfully transferred from your bank in Baltimore, Mr. Hall,” the doctor added. “At that point, we can begin your treatment.”
Dr. Justice turned and slipped through the door.
Amin turned to Tim. “Mr. Tim, would you follow me to my office?”
Tim stared at the door the doctor had left by, then followed Amin downstairs.
Later, Tim laid back on his bed in the oceanfront room the CBSCRC had given him and logged into his bank account from his smartphone. Gone was his $17,500 left in savings, and only $575 remained in his checking account. They certainly didn’t waste any time, did they?
Tim did have a lot more money in other accounts, but he certainly was not going to let anyone at the CBSCRC know about it. Tim also thought that it was strange that he observed no other patients on the premises.
There was a TV in his room and a phone, chairs, table, and a small desk like any hotel room would have, plus a balcony looking out to the ocean. Tim also had access to the beach, but little else. Anytime Tim attempted to wander around the facility, he was stopped by one of the friendly Dominican men, who directed Tim back to his room. It had been two days since his meeting with Dr. Justice, and Tim was beginning to become suspicious. Was this all just some elaborate scam to get a hold of his lousy $17,000?
A soft knock sounded on his door all of a sudden, and Amin entered Tim’s room. “Mr. Tim? We are ready to begin your procedure.”
“At four fucking o’clock in the afternoon? What kind of place is this?” Tim demanded.
Amin simply ignored Tim’s outburst and held out his hand.
Tim put his shoes on and began to follow Amin down the hallway. Amin used an ID badge to open another door, which led to another hallway. Tim now noticed that an additional Dominican man was behind them. This was all becoming a little strange to Tim, and it began to occur to him that maybe he should reconsider the entire procedure. Tim turned to make a retreat but felt the strong hands of the man behind him placed on both of his shoulders.
Amin turned to Tim. “Mr. Tim, you have come too far,” he said gently.
Amin opened a door for Tim to see a brightly lit room that was crammed with a variety of medical equipment. There were also six doctors or nurses waiting inside of it, all gloved, gowned, and wearing surgical masks. With the Dominican still holding Tim, a woman who Tim thought was Nurse Jennifer stepped to his right and administered an injection, saying, “Tim, this will help you relax.”
Tim felt his entire body go limp, although he was still very awake.
“Amin prepare the patient,” said a voice that Tim recognized as Dr. Justice’s. Tim tried to speak but found himself paralyzed to the point where he could only make unintelligible sounds.
Amin and the other Dominican man took Tim into a side room and began to undress him. Tim was soon in a hospital grown and laid out on an operating table. Tim was completely freaking out now, yet there was absolutely nothing he could do.
Dr. Justice stood over Tim and spoke. “Tim, I apologize for proceeding in such a manner, but we have our reasons, which I will explain later. Now, we are going to be performing several kinds of injections that may feel uncomfortable. Some of these injection sites will be in and around your eye sockets, and we need you to be completely still, which is why we needed to use certain sedative medications. For the remainder of the procedure, we think it is best that you are unconscious.”
Dr. Justice turn and nodded to someone. “Now, Tim, if you just start counting backwards... 10, 9, 8—”
Tim made it to 7.
He woke up on his back, staring at a white ceiling fan. He slowly started testing each of his limbs for movement. He did have a tremendous headache, a type of headache that he had never experienced before.
“Mr. Tim, Mr. Tim, are you back with us?” a voice next to Tim called out.
“Yes, yes, I’m back. You’re the man in charge, right?”
Tim knew right away that he was making no sense. Coming out of anesthesia was always a strange occurrence, but in this case, getting back to reality was important. Tim tried harder.
“My name is Tim Hall, correct? And I am in, am I, am in...” Tim paused for a moment. “I am in a place where the laws do not apply,” he finally decided to say.
That statement even made the stoic Amin laugh out loud. “Yes, Mr. Tim, you are in a land where American law does not apply, but you must hurry. You have a plane to catch back to your home in Baltimore that you will not want to miss.”
“Plane? Baltimore?” Tim exclaimed. “What about seeing the doctor? What about aftercare?”
Amin laughed once again. “You have received the treatment that Dr. Justice prescribed. The doctor may indeed want to follow up with your progress, but there is no—how do you call it? —aftercare.”
Tim had never been to any medical facility where he did not have to sign a stack of forms in order to be released. He was getting the feeling he was getting the bum rush out of the CBSCRC—but why?
“Amin, don’t you think I should speak with Dr. Justice or at least Nurse Jennifer before I leave?”
Tim could tell that Amin was becoming impatient. “Mr. Tim, both doctor and nurse have examined you thoroughly, and they have given you permission to leave. Your passport is only valid for seven days, and you have now been here for six, so it is imperative you leave today.”
By this time, Tim was dressed, and his bag was packed (although he didn’t have a clue how any of that was done). Before he could ask any more questions, he was seated in the SUV with Amin heading back to the airport, then aboard flight United 2259 to Dallas-Ft. Worth International Airport. Tim was not pleased with the small 50-plus seat jet or the connection he needed to make at DFW, but he soon fell asleep.
He was awakened by the flight attendant welcoming everyone to the greater Dallas-Fort Worth area. All of the passengers deplaned directly onto the tarmac and were required to take a bus to the main terminal.
On arrival, Tim was disappointed to discover that he, along with the rest of the passengers, would need to be screened through the TSA once again. When Tim arrived at the checkpoint, he encountered the longest line he had ever witnessed. In addition, there did not seem to be any order to the screening process. Apparently, a group of travelers had attempted to bring some sort of energizer beverage on board that was forbidden by the current FAA rules. Somehow, this act by itself had shut down the entire DFW TSA, and the line through screening was becoming longer and longer.
Tim’s line was slowly merging with another line, which was leading to the one TSA gate in operation. To Tim’s right was a young blond man with an even younger blonde woman. The man wore sunglasses and looked like he was going on a skiing vacation. When he spoke to his girlfriend, Tim noticed some kind of accent, maybe English or Australian.
As the line moved another inch, Tim inadvertently kicked the younger man’s bag (everyone’s bag was on the airport floor at this point). The blond man shot Tim a look and remarked, “You got a problem with my bag, mate?”
Feeling angry or perhaps just frustrated, Tim replied, “I ain’t your fucking mate, you asshole.”
As Tim was turning back, he saw the blond man’s fist coming straight at him through the corner of his right eye. Tim instinctively raised his right hand and caught the man’s fist, beginning to squeeze.
The blond man cried out in pain and fell to his knees. “Let go, let go!” were the only words he could get out. The blond man’s girlfriend also screamed, yelling at Tim to leave him alone.
Tim released his grip and took a step back, not totally understanding what had just occurred. An airport cop approached and asked Tim and the blond man if there were any problems, but the blond man just shook his head and told the cop that everything was okay. At that point, the TSA line finally began moving, and Tim passed right through.
Tim’s flight was scheduled to leave, and he found himself sprinting to the gate just as the door was closing. As he sat in his seat and fastened his seat belt, he noticed that he was not nearly as winded as he would have expected. Tim wondered what that fight had been all about and how he’d been able to bring a younger man to his knees simply by squeezing his hand. Something was going on...but what?
Tim arrived at BWI expecting Mary Ann to meet him, but then remembered that he hadn’t told her when he was coming back. Tim was supposed to call her from the Dominican Republic, but he hadn’t had time. Hell, he had not had much of a chance to do anything, since he’d slept on both of the return flights.
He wandered through the airport until he found himself at the ground transportation section, then in the back of a taxi. “I need to go 5456 Lovettsville Road,” Tim told the driver.
“Lovettsville Road? Where the heck is Lovettsville Road?” the driver responded.
Tim thought the same thing. Where the hell was Lovettsville Road?
“I mean North Washington Street in the city,” he quickly corrected.
“That address I know,” the driver laughed. “But Lovettsville Road is a new one to me.”
It was a new one to Tim as well.
It was early Sunday morning, and the Goose would not be open until sometime that afternoon. Tim considered going to Mary Ann’s apartment above the Goose but decided that probably was not a very good idea. Showing up at a woman’s home uninvited had never worked out well for him—something about the invasion of their space. Tim couldn’t remember the exact reason, but he’d decided long ago never to show up uninvited again.
Tim made his way to his condo, opened the door, and threw his bag on the floor. He went to bed and began to dream. In his dream, he found himself on a road with trees on either side that was close to a river. There was also a house, a large brick house that overlooked the river. A woman was coming out of it.
Tim woke up and saw that the time was 4 p.m. Maybe the Goose would be open now. He could not remember the last time he’d eaten.
Before he could get dressed, though, Tim turned on the TV in his living room and fell right back to sleep. This time, Tim dreamed of being in a car with other people that he did not know. They were driving in a city, and they were escaping from someone. Tim woke again and saw that it was now 7 p.m. Why all these dreams, he wondered. Tim usually had the same dreams over and over, but these dreams were new and extremely vivid.
Tim decided to take a shower. He undressed and stood in front of the full-sized mirror in his bathroom to examine his body. Tim removed several band aids, which revealed numerous needle marks. What the hell had those maniacs done to him at the CBSCRC?
After the shower, Tim dressed in a sweatshirt and pants and laid down on his couch. This was the last thing he remembered.