All My Tomorrows (22 page)

CHAPTER 25

"Take her up, John," Jordan said as she stood on top of the pallet of hay bales, riding it to the loft where she swung the pallet onto the deck. "Give me a minute to unload these and I'll send it back down again," she said.

"I can come up there and give you a hand with that, if you'd like," John offered.

"Not necessary. It'll just take me a minute or two. In fact, I'm nearly finished already." Jordan hopped onto the empty pallet and gave John the signal to lower it back to the barn floor.

"I'm kind of glad you're home, Jordan. Miss Maggie worked herself into an unhealthy state after you left."

"What do you mean?" Jordan asked as she stacked new bales of hay onto the pallet.

"Well, she was neglecting Shawny and not taking very good care of herself. The morning Miss Gina came after her, I knocked on her door at ten in the morning and she was still in bed. That's not like her."

"Well, I'm back and nothing is going to chase me away again."

"That's good to hear. You're good people, Jordan… and you're good for Miss Maggie.”

"Thank you, John."

Jordan stacked several bales onto the pallet in silence before addressing John once more.

“I understand you saw my transfer into the barn on the morning the winch fell from the rafter. Why didn’t you ask me about it?” Jordan asked.

“It all happened so fast. I saw the flash of light, then Maggie came out of Shawny's stall, right into the path where the winch fell and you pretty much acted on instinct and pushed her out of the way. I knew right then that you meant us no harm,” John explained.

“But weren’t you even curious about it, John?”

“Sure I was, but I figured if you wanted me to know, you’d tell me yourself. Besides, if I’ve learned anything in my life, it’s that it don’t matter none where you come from as long as you’re good people.”

Jordan wiped the sweat off her brow with the back of her sleeve. “Well, I certainly appreciate your open mindedness, John. I want you to know I love Maggie with all my heart and I would do nothing to hurt her. I came here to save her from Jan — not to hurt her.”

"So, Maggie tells me you're a scientist. I kind of thought as much. You seem smarter than the average person. I wish you all the luck in the world on your research project."

"I've got my fingers crossed that it will be funded, John. I should be hearing from the board at the spinal institute in a couple of weeks about whether they've accepted my proposal."

"And if they don't?"

"Then I'll seek funding elsewhere. I'd like to keep the research local, but I'll go national if I have to." Jordan once again climbed on top of the pallet. "Round two… take her up."

Jordan had just finished unloading the second pallet of hay bales when she heard Maggie calling her name from across the barnyard.

"Jordan? Where are you? The mailman just delivered a letter from the institute."

"In the barn, Mags." Jordan rode the second pallet to the ground as Maggie waited below.

"You go on and take care of business. I've got this next load," John said.

"Thanks, John." Jordan draped her arm around Maggie's shoulder and walked out of the barn with her. Once outside, she took the letter from Maggie and stared at it intently.

"This doesn't feel right, Maggie. It's too soon. My presentation was only this past Monday, just four days ago. I'm afraid that's not a good sign."

"Or it could be a good sign," Maggie said hopefully.

"Sweetie, no one makes a decision to spend this kind of money without thinking about it long and hard, and running it through a lengthy return on investment analysis. Trust me, I've been here before."

"Well, open it," Maggie said.

Jordan tore open the flap and retrieved a one-page, typewritten letter. She quickly scanned the letter then lowered her chin to her chest. "It's just as I thought," she said.

"Let me see it," Maggie said, taking it from Jordan and reading it out loud.

Dear Miss Lewis.

Thank you for presenting your ideas to us this past Monday on your approach to the treatment and cure of complete SCI's. We regret to inform you that your application for a research grant has been denied. This rejection is due to your lack of verifying credentials as a certified expert in the field of spinal cord injury treatments. We feel irrefutable and spotless credentials are a requirement to move forward with a project that would require the degree of funding your proposal implied. We sincerely hope this will not discourage you from continuing your research.

Sincerely,

Dr. Robert Hollinbeck, PhD.

Assistant Director of the Vermont Spinal Cord Institute

University of Vermont Medical Center.

Maggie put her hand on Jordan's back. "Sweetie, I'm so sorry."

Jordan fought hard to hold back her tears of disappointment. "I was so sure my presentation would convince them to fund this project. They are being so shortsighted."

"The letter implies they rejected the proposal because of your lack of credentials. I don't think it has anything to do with the project itself."

Jordan nodded. "I guess I can't blame them. After all, what do they know about me? I'm an unknown entity that literally fell from the sky. I'll need to find a way to fabricate my credentials before I try again. I don't want to risk another rejection."

"That might be best," Maggie said. "Why don't you come into the house and have an iced tea with me before going back to the barn. Okay?"

Jordan nodded as she and Maggie walked toward the house. Just then, her cell phone rang.

"Who could that be? The only people I really know around here are you, Gina and Sam, and this is definitely not one of their cell numbers," Jordan said as she looked at the screen. She pushed the answer button and held the phone to her ear. "Hello?"

"Jordan Lewis?" a man's voice said.

"Yes, this is she."

"Ms. Lewis, my name is Charles Malone and I…"

"Charles Malone. Yes, I know who you are." Jordan looked at Maggie and raised her eyebrows.

"Yes, anyway, I have reason to believe you received a letter today from the Vermont Spinal Institute. Is that correct?"

"As a matter of fact, I'm holding it in my hand right now."

"I'd like to talk to you about that letter, and about your proposal, if I may."

"Of course, Mr. Malone. What time would be best for you?"

"I can be there in five minutes."

"Five minutes? I… I'm afraid I've been working in the barn and…"

"Don't worry about the way you look, Miss Lewis. It's your brain I'm interested in, not your hygiene."

"Well, in that case, Mr. Malone. I'll have a glass of iced tea waiting for you when you get here. We're located at—"

"I have your address from the funding application. I'll find you."

"Okay then. We'll see you soon."

Jordan shut her phone off and slipped it into her back pocket. "I've at least got to wash off the barn dust. Could I bother you to pour us all some iced tea?" Jordan asked.

Maggie smiled. "Of course, love."

Jordan ran up the front steps, taking them two at a time while Maggie followed at a slower pace. By the time she heard the sound of tires on gravel, Maggie had three glasses of iced tea poured, as well as a selection of sweet breads laid out on a plate. "I just heard a car pull up out front, Jordan," Maggie called out.

Jordan entered the kitchen just as they both heard a car door close. She was visibly nervous.

"Calm down, love. It'll be okay," Maggie said. "Deep breath."

A knock on the screen door called their attention to their visitor on the front porch. Maggie opened the inside door then pushed open the screen door for Mr. Malone to enter.

Jordan's eyes opened wide. "You! You were at the presentation," she said.

Mr. Malone stepped forward and extended his hand to Jordan. "Yes. Chuck Malone," he said, firmly grasping Jordan's hand.

"It's nice to see you again," Jordan said. She stared at him for a few seconds, before shaking herself out of her reverie. "I'm sorry, but you remind me of someone."

"I get that a lot," Malone said. He turned to look at Maggie. "So who is this lovely lady?"

"Sheesh, where are my manners? Mr. Malone, this is my fiancée, Maggie Downs. Maggie, Charles Malone."

Mr. Malone shook her hand warmly. "Your fiancée, huh?"

"Is that a problem, Mr. Malone?" Jordan asked.

"Chuck. Please call me Chuck, and no, it's not a problem. It's so nice to meet you, Ms. Downs."

"The pleasure is all mine, Chuck, and since we're on a first name basis, please call me Maggie."

"Maggie it is." Chuck looked around. "You have a beautiful home. It's very comfortable."

"Speaking of comfort, please have a seat. I've poured some iced tea for all of us," Maggie said.

Chuck pulled out a chair and made himself comfortable at the handmade wooden table, then helped himself to the sweet breads on the table in front of him. "These are amazing," he said.

"Maggie's the cook. I'm afraid I burn water," Jordan joked.

"You too, huh? My wife wouldn't even let me in the kitchen. Maggie, you'll have to give me the recipe for these before I leave. My daughter, Jessie will love these."

"How old is she?" Jordan asked as she too bit into a sweetbread. "Wow, Mags, Chuck is right. These are incredible."

"Thanks, love," Maggie said. Then, to Chuck, "So how old is Jessie?"

"Jessie is thirteen, going on twenty."

"God love you," Jordan said. "Speaking from personal experience, raising girls is not a lot of fun sometimes."

"You got that right," Chuck exclaimed. "One minute, she's all sugar and spice and the very next moment, she's having a high-speed come apart over nothing."

"If it's any consolation, it gets better," Maggie said.

"Well, it can't happen soon enough."

"So, Chuck, what brings you out here?" Jordan asked.

"First, I want to tell you how impressed I was with your presentation, Jordan, and I'd like to learn more about how your device works."

"I'm sorry, Chuck. Since the institute rejected my proposal, I will need to seek other funding, and quite frankly, I need to protect the IP for those donors willing to invest in its development."

Chuck smiled. "I like your attitude and your conviction, Jordan, and I totally understand your reluctance to release any IP relative this device, but I am that donor willing to invest in its development."

Maggie reached across the table and took Jordan's hand.

"You? Chuck, forgive me for being confused, but it's a well documented fact that you are the primary benefactor of the Spinal Institute, and as you know, they rejected my proposal."

"Correction, Jordan. I was the primary benefactor of the Spinal Institute. I have withdrawn my support starting immediately."

"But, why?"

"Let's just say their focus and their priorities diverge with my beliefs. It is time to make a change, for me, and for Jessie."

"Jessie?"

"If you've done your homework on me, and I believe you have, you will know that Jessie has been in a wheelchair for the past three years."

"Car accident," Jordan said. "I read about it. I'm sorry about your wife."

"I was devastated. At least I didn't lose both of them. Jessie was severely injured in the crash. Her spinal cord was severed at the L1 vertebra."

Jordan's gaze darted to Maggie as they exchanged a knowing look.

"Jordan, your presentation has given me a reason to hope again… to hope that some day, Jessie will be able to get out of that chair and live a normal life."

Jordan closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. When she opened them, she looked directly at Chuck. "Chuck, with the right team and the right funding, I am confident I can get Jessie out of that chair and on her feet within a year."

Chuck's hand flew up to cover his mouth in an attempt to stifle a sob that successfully escaped. Tears spilled over onto his cheeks. Jordan reached out for his free hand while Maggie stood and wrapped her arms around the sobbing man. For the next several minutes, no one said a word as Chuck slowly regained his composure.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"No need to be sorry," Jordan said. "I feel your pain, Chuck. Trust me on that one."

Maggie released Chuck and circled around the table to stand behind Jordan, placing her hands on Jordan's shoulders.

"Don't ask me why, but I do, Jordan… trust you, that is," Chuck said. "Do you mind if I ask you a question?"

"Not at all."

"How long have you been out of your wheelchair?"

Jordan could feel Maggie's hands squeeze her shoulders. She tilted her head back to look at Maggie, who simply placed a kiss on her forehead.

Jordan returned her gaze to Chuck. "For about three years."

CHAPTER 26

"How did you know?" Jordan asked.

"I didn't know for sure, but you mentioned during your presentation that your device had already been tested in a human subject and I figured that since the medical community wasn't aware of it then the recipient had to be someone attached to your research. I took a chance that it was you."

"I see."

"How were you injured?" Chuck asked.

"I was thrown from my horse. I was sixteen at the time."

"And how long were you in the chair?"

"Fourteen years."

"Fourteen years? Damn. You said you've been out of the chair for three years now?"

"Technically, I was out of my chair for two years, then back in it for a few months while a second device was perfected."

"So, how does it work?"

Jordan paused.

"Why don't I leave you two alone to talk business," Maggie said as she excused herself. I'll be out in the barn if you need me for anything."

"Okay, love," Jordan replied as she watched Maggie leave. She turned her attention back to Chuck. "Chuck, as much as I want to explain the device to you, I really need to understand what your intentions are."

"My intentions, Jordan, are to do whatever is humanly possible to get my daughter out of that wheelchair. I watched you walk back and forth across the conference room when you gave your presentation earlier this week. Now, you're sitting here in front of me, with full range of motion and absolutely no telltale sign that there is anything wrong with you. If you are speaking the truth and you are indeed the test subject you mentioned in your presentation, then I want that device, and I am willing to pay any price to get it."

"Did you read the terms and conditions I included in my proposal?" Jordan asked.

Chuck sat back in his chair. "I did."

"And—?"

"And I am prepared to meet every one. The funding is not a problem. As I'm sure you know, I have access to the kind of money required to bring this device to market… that, and more if necessary. I am willing to double the salary you asked for, and IP ownership of the device is yours. I will even have my lawyers draft the patent application for you."

Jordan maintained eye contact with Chuck while he spoke. "And the identity issue?" she said.

"That one, I need a little help understanding," Chuck said.

"It's actually pretty simple. I have no way of proving who I am. I have no birth certificate, no social security number and no access to my educational and medical records. Because of that, I can't get a driver's license and I can't get a credit card. I can't even marry the woman I love. Don't get me wrong, Chuck, I'm no slouch. I'm not running from the law and I have no reason to hide other than my inability to prove who I am. I need you to help me establish an identity so I can live life normally."

"Are you an illegal, Jordan?"

"No, I am not. I was born right here in Vermont. I grew up on a farm here in Shelburne. I was educated in one of the finest medical universities this country has to offer… and I can't prove any of it."

"Why? Why can't you prove it?"

Jordan took a deep breath. Can I trust this guy? she thought. She looked down at her hands in her lap then raised her eyes to look into Chuck's face. "Because the records don't exist yet."

Chuck narrowed his eyes at her. "They don't exist yet?"

"That's right, and that's all I'm going to say on the matter for now."

Chuck got up from his chair and walked back and forth across the kitchen, one hand on his hip and the other running over the stubble on his chin. Finally, he stopped in front of Jordan and placed both hands on his hips.

"I'm willing to work with you on this, Jordan, but before I commit to doing something that just might be illegal, I need you to prove to me that you're telling the truth about this device. It's a lot of money and a lot of risk on my part to enter into this contract blind."

"Fair enough," Jordan said. She rose to her feet. "I'll be right back. I'd like Maggie here for this."

"Of course," Chuck said.

Jordan returned several minutes later with Maggie in tow. Chuck rose to his feet when they entered the kitchen.

"What's this all about?" Maggie asked.

"Maggie, Chuck has offered to set up a private foundation to bring the device to market. He's agreed to all of the terms, including resolving my identity problem, but he's asked for proof that I am who I say I am. I know of only one way to do that, and I thought it might be prudent to have you here."

"I see," Maggie said.

"Chuck, please sit. I owe you some background information before I divulge the proof you're asking for."

"Why don't I make a pot of coffee? This might take some time," Maggie said.

"Coffee would be wonderful, love. Thank you."

"Chuck?" Maggie asked.

"Yes, please," he said, never taking his eyes from Jordan.

"Okay. I guess the best place to start is with my own accident. As I mentioned earlier, I was sixteen at the time. I had taken my horse for a ride and we stayed out longer than planned. It was nearly dusk before we headed back from the north pasture. As I rode, I kicked my horse into a gallop and soon, we were flying across the field. About halfway back to the house, my horse stepped into an old well that was covered over with rotted plywood and sod. I suddenly became airborne and landed in such a way that my spine was broken and my spinal cord completely severed at the L1 vertebra."

"L1? That's exactly where Jessie's was severed," Chuck said.

"Yes. Anyway, like I said, it was nearly dusk when we headed back and almost dark by the time the accident happened. I lay there on the cold, dew covered ground next to my dying horse for several hours before I lost consciousness. The next thing I knew, I woke up in the hospital unable to move my legs. Unfortunately, my horse didn't make it."

"That must have been so awful for you."

"What was awful was spending the next fourteen years in a wheelchair. Believe me when I say, Chuck, that suddenly becoming the only handicapped kid in my high school was pretty traumatic. High school is hard enough on a normal kid. You can imagine what it was like for a kid with special needs. I mean, I had no feeling or control over anything below my waist. I constantly needed help reaching things, and with no bladder control, I had to wear catheters and carry around this bag of urine all the time. It was a nightmare. It was experiences like that which contributed to my decision to become a scientist in the spinal cord injury field."

Maggie put creamer and sugar on the table then carried two cups of coffee to Chuck and Jordan. Jordan detained her with a hand on her arm. "Thank you, my love," she said.

Maggie spontaneously kissed her. "You're welcome."

Chuck sipped his coffee as he watched the tender scene. "Great coffee, Maggie. Thank you," he said.

Maggie returned to the counter and poured herself a cup then joined them at the table.

"Where did you go to school?" Chuck asked.

"Johns Hopkins University in Baltimore, and before you waste your time, you won't find any records or transcripts on me there. I graduated in the top one-percent of my class with a degree in kinesiology and specialization in spinal cord injury treatments."

"So how did you go from being in a wheelchair to walking around like your injury never occurred?" Chuck asked.

"After I graduated from medical school, I joined an institute dedicated to the study of spinal cord injuries and potential cures. I was assigned to a project that was developing a device to restore mobility. I worked on it for several years and three years ago, volunteered to be the test subject. It was an uphill battle to convince them to accept me as the candidate because by that time, my injury was already fourteen years old. As I'm sure you know, Chuck, with traditional spinal cord injury treatments, the speed at which you treat it is critical to minimize cell death."

"But they accepted you anyway," Chuck stated.

"Yes, but not without a fight, and not without a lot of good people backing me up, including my roommate, Kale."

Jordan suddenly sat back. "That's it!" she said. "That's who you remind me of, Kale. It's gotta be the hair. I used to tease him all the time about looking like a mad scientist."

Chuck ran a hand through his hair. "Damned mop. There's not much I can do except keep it cut short, and as you can see, I'm overdue for a haircut."

Jordan chuckled. "I'm sorry, Chuck. I didn't mean to tease you."

"No problem. So, go on. You said three years ago they accepted you for the first device. Did it work right away?"

"It did, although I needed to learn to walk again. After fourteen years in that chair, my brain lost all knowledge of how to put one foot in front of the other."

"So the device cured you then?"

"Not exactly. It gave me
mobility
, but I still had no feeling below my waist. I might have looked more normal, but I didn't feel normal."

"You've said the word
first
a couple of times relative to the device. That implies there was more than one."

"That's an astute observation, Chuck. Yes. There was a second device, designed not only to restore mobility, but over time, to restore feeling as well."

"And did it restore feeling in you?" Chuck asked.

Jordan reached across the table and took Maggie's hand in her own. She squeezed it and smiled. "Yes. Yes it did. It was a slow process, and I'm still not fully there, but it seems to be working toward the restoration of full sensation."

"Jessie's doctors insist her spinal cord will never be healthy again and that she's destined to be in that chair for the rest of her life."

"At this point in time, and with the knowledge that exists today, that is true."

"But you said…"

"I said, at this point in time."

"So, how does it work? Your spinal cord was completely severed. How is it you can walk and have feeling below the injury site?"

"That is information I can not share right now. It's not that I don't trust you, Chuck, but I need to know your offer to fund this research and development is legit."

Chuck frowned. "Like I said, Jordan, I need proof. Your words and your apparent knowledge give me hope that some day Jessie will get out of that chair, but where's the proof before I pour millions of dollars into this project?"

Jordan looked to Maggie. "Sweetheart, could you give me a hand with this?"

Maggie got up and walked around the table to stand by Jordan's side.

Chuck remained seated, intently focused on Jordan and Maggie.

"Turn around, love," Maggie said.

Jordan did as she was asked and turned her back to Chuck.

Maggie pulled Jordan's shirt tail out of her jeans. "Okay, go ahead and unbutton and unzip your jeans."

Again, Jordan followed Maggie's instructions, allowing Maggie to push the waistband of Jordan's jeans just below her hips.

Chuck leaned in as Maggie raised Jordan's shirt, exposing her back from hip to shoulder blades.

"For the love of God," Chuck said. "That scar has got to be nearly a foot long."

Jordan reached back and touched the scar just above the small of her back. "The injury is right here. The scar is so long because of the required access to insert the device and all its trappings."

"Trappings?" Chuck asked.

"Yes. I will explain all of that in good time," Jordan said.

"Give me your hand," Maggie said to Chuck.

He extended his hand to Maggie.

"Feel this," she said.

Chuck's eyes grew large. "What the f—! It vibrates. What is it?"

"It's all part of the device. Again, I will…"

"You'll explain it all in good time," Chuck said for her.

Jordan pulled the waist of her jeans back up and tucked her shirt in, then turned around as she fastened her belt. "Is that proof enough for you, Chuck?"

Chuck stared at Jordan's face for several moments. "Who are you Jordan? Where do you come from? Better yet, when do you come from? They don't make things like this yet."

"No, they don't. Not for another eighty years anyway," Jordan replied.

"Will Jessie realize the same results as you?" he asked.

"In theory — yes. In practice, we'll have to see how her body responds. Everyone is different, but I have confidence it will work just fine for her. She has an advantage I didn't have. Two, in fact."

"What's that?"

"First, she's sixteen years younger than I was when I got the device. Children often heal faster than adults. And second, her injury is only three years old, whereas, mine was fourteen years old. Like I said in the presentation, with the right scientists and the right funding, I think I can have the prototype developed in about a year, or maybe even sooner."

Chuck looked at Maggie. "Maggie, do you have a piece of paper and a pen?"

"Sure. Let me get it for you."