Forever Young: Blessing or Curse (Always Young Trilogy) (23 page)

BOOK: Forever Young: Blessing or Curse (Always Young Trilogy)
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It
seemed perfect, but an unbiased eye was essential to confirm his assessment. An
out-of-state biochemist, Larry Donato, seemed the perfect solution, qualified,
not well known, and easily eradicated. Even if Donato had not discovered its
flaws, his knowledge of the formula would have been enough to ensure his
destruction.

Using
the widow as the first guinea pig had been genius, not only to keep an eye on
her, but also to check the pill’s effects on her naturally sluggish thyroid.
Fortunately for her and him, the pill worked. Still, he needed more subjects
before he’d chance the leap. Would someone with a normal thyroid survive the
young pill if a hormone blocking drug were added? His studies had proven
inconclusive, though Donato’s had predicted disaster. Michael McIntyre’s demise
validated Donato’s conclusion.

Another
possibility remained, which Donato had discounted due to his concern over
addiction and the other side effects. Kill the thyroid with radioiodine.
Eliminate the endocrine secretions warring with the young pill.

He
wasn’t foolish enough to risk his own health. More subjects and more testing
were necessary before the interminable agony of his wait could be concluded.

With
each passing day, it became more difficult to hold off.  He was so close,
he could almost taste it. Soon there’d be no hiding. He’d be young again, yet
wiser and normal looking, retaining all his memories and knowledge.

No
one would stand in his way.

***

Roman’s
thoughts whirled, as he watched the elevator numbers light up. He loved acting,
and had gotten so deep into his role at the Institute he’d almost forgotten he
wasn’t in charge.  The squat man who paid him held the real power and
genius.

At
first he’d switched from job to job, utterly bored. Then, five years ago, as a
last resort, he’d come up with the brainstorm of applying for an acting gig.
Though he possessed no formal training, he knew he could pull it off. When he’d
seen the ad from a small talent agency in the Phoenix Daily, to test his
theory, he’d applied.

From
the beginning, he’d encountered an alluring air of secrecy. The recruiter, a
nondescript middle aged guy, had stepped out and scanned the waiting room’s
applicants before gesturing for Roman to follow him into his office.

“Remain
standing while I look you over,” the man ordered, and proceeded to slowly walk
around Roman, examining his features and build.  

“Hmm,
you look the part. Say something so I can hear you talk. What was last night’s
dinner?”

“A
carryout hamburger and fries, but I would have preferred a T-bone and mashed
potatoes. Unfortunately, those luxuries are denied me for want of a decent
job.” 

The
man’s eyes lit up. “Wait here. I’ll be right back. You may get that T-bone
yet.”

Sure
enough, a few minutes later, the man reappeared with a slip of paper containing
an address. “Okay, this is where to go.”

 “Thanks.
Oh, hey, can you give me some details and tell me who to ask for?”

The
man shook his head. “I would if I could. I only know it’s an acting job. You’ll
get filled in when you arrive. The instructions say to come at nightfall, no
sooner. Good luck to you.”

The
man had seemed nice, genuinely sorry he couldn’t be more helpful. Too bad he’d
come to a bad end, caught in a house fire a week after the interview.

As
Roman had pulled up to the dark turreted frame building with the desert cacti
backdrop, he wondered if he’d stepped into the setting of a horror movie. The
battered and flimsy dwelling looked as if the tumbleweeds could lift it up and
blow it away.

It
couldn’t be the place. He must have misread the address. He switched on the
overhead light, pulled out the slip, and confirmed that the numbers and street
name matched.

Maybe
this was the movie set. Shrugging, he headed up the creaking wooden steps. At
the top, after some difficulty, he located the doorbell in the dark. A voice
from the speaker asked, “Are you alone?”

“Yes.”

“Good,
I’ll buzz you in.”

The
secrecy intrigued Roman. He sensed an adventure to lift him from his boredom.

Once
inside the semi-lit hallway, Roman could barely make out the approaching figure
of a short stocky man. When the man drew closer, Roman sucked in his breath.
Even in the darkness, the carnage of the man’s face was evident. My God, had he
been born that way?  If so, what did his parents look like? 

“Come
with me.”

The
man led him into a study down the hall, then gestured for Roman to be seated.
After verifying Roman’s credentials from the agency, the man stood up, trained
a goose arm lamp over Roman’s face, and turned the light in various directions.

He
didn’t mind his looks being scrutinized, but wondered if the man was some kind
of masochist, or an evil scientist out for a skin graft.  If so, Roman
would fight tooth and nail to protect his prized possession.

The
man nodded. “Yes, I believe you’ll do. We’ll add some highlights to your hair,
and grow it out a good five inches. In the meantime, a wig will suffice. About those
grey eyes, blue will work better. Easy fix with contacts. Any objections? “

“I
have no problem with that.”

“Good.”

“Could
I ask what the job entails?”

“All
in good time. Now, let’s see, the agency said you have no acting experience, but
would like to try. Is that correct? Tell the truth. I won’t hold it against
you.”

“I’ve
never acted professionally, but I can pull the wool over almost anyone’s eyes.
Also, I’ve
developed an extensive vocabulary, which adds credence to what I say.”

The
man steepled his hands and rested his disfigured chin on his fingertips as he
gazed at Roman. Telling himself it was good acting experience, Roman
unflinchingly returned the stare.

“Do
you like taking chances?”

“If
there’s something in it for me.”

The
man nodded, apparently satisfied.

“You’d
need to be away from home. Any family to tie you down?”

“Not
at all. My parents are dead; I never had a wife or kids.”

“Are
you a religious person?”

“Only
when I need to be.”

“Are
you a stickler for the law?”

“Again,
only when I need to be.”

“Are
you on good terms with the IRS?”

“Same
answer.”

“So,
it wouldn’t bother you to accept a bonus or two under the table?”

Roman
smiled. “Not at all.”

Finally,
the man nodded. “Okay, let’s give it a try. Remember, what I’m about to say is
highly confidential. If word got out, extreme consequences would result. Here’s
what I want you to do…”

The
proposal seemed farfetched. The man was certifiable. His plan would never work.

Roman’s
heart sank. He’d looked forward to stretching his acting muscles and seeing
what would happen. Instead, he’d need to return to the agency to find more
suitable employment.

He
half wanted to make a fast exit, but curiosity made him stay. Just how far did
the man’s delusions reach? Did the frightening creature believe what he
proposed?    

“Forgive
me for being skeptical, but what you suggest sounds impossible.”

“That’s
why I need an actor such as you to convince people otherwise.”

“You
need more than that. How about proof?”

“I’ll
furnish that. You need only be convincing and look pretty. For that you’ll
receive  a handsome recompense, along with a percentage of the sales.”

The
man went on, explaining how they’d build the public’s trust first through
various fool-proof products before unleashing the cash cow. Even if the end
plan didn’t materialize, Roman would still receive guaranteed compensation in
the meantime.

It
could turn into a fun gig. For sure he wouldn’t be bored.

His
“I’ll do it,” clinched the deal, setting into play a wild, exciting ride. The
grand adventure began, taking place in the sprawling, white stone building
turned playground in Scottsdale, where Roman ruled as king, while the power
behind the throne hid in the sub-basement.

The
position proved heady. He enjoyed the power, though his authority was only
through the askance of the other man.

The
first stage of concentrating on health aid products to gain consumer confidence
proved easy. He enjoyed performing the infomercials and reeling in customers.
He hadn’t a clue if the products worked and could care less. His job was to
make sales and he did. Who wouldn’t believe such a sincere, angelic looking
man?

Countless
people fell for his spiel on the placebo weight loss pills. Some lost weight,
more likely through diligence in calorie counting and following an exercise
regime, rather than through the pills themselves.

He’d
made a tidy sum from the health aids, but now, with the Forever Young pill
deposits, real money came rolling in. Who’d believe that what the squat man had
promised would actually come true for the widow? He had to hand it to the man
for genius.

Roman
didn’t blame him for doing all in his power to protect his interests. One wrong
move and the man’s hard work, hopes and dreams would be squashed.

Not
to mention Roman’s acting gig.

***

Jeanne
called Dorrie early on New Year’s Day. “I’m sorry I flew off the handle the
other day. I don’t know what got into me to say that mean and vicious stuff
about your baby. You didn’t deserve to hear that. You’re in a tough situation.
I know you’re coping as best you can.”

“And
I’m sorry, too, for going off on you. You’ve had it rough lately, with losing
your Dad. I should have realized you didn’t mean what you were saying. Anyway,
I’m glad we’re starting the New Year off right.”

“Me,
too. Darn, I’ve got to run. The animals are hungry. I’m their last hope.
Everyone else is off visiting relatives.”

It
was good her friend had found something worthwhile to occupy her time, and keep
her mind off of Mike’s absence.

The
next morning Roman called her into his office. Feeling as if she were answering
the voice of doom, she slowly got up. He met her at the door and closed it.

A
trapped feeling overwhelmed her. Squaring her shoulders, she tried to appear
nonchalant.

“Sit
down, my dear.”

Once
she was seated, he began. “There’s a misconception I’d like to clear up before
questions are raised. I believe your friend, Jeanne McIntyre, is still under
the impression my pill caused her father’s death. Am I right in that
assumption?”

Dorrie’s
throat went dry. What was he getting at? How much should she admit?

“I
can see from your expression I am. Listen, Dorrie, let’s be honest. If I were
in her position, I’d think the same thing. I wish I’d had the opportunity to
explain the matter thoroughly, but given her distraught condition, I didn’t get
the chance.

“I
understand this whole unfortunate incident leaves you in a delicate position,
working for someone your friend believes is the devil incarnate, so to speak.”

“I
wouldn’t say that.”

“No
use denying it, my dear. She gave me an earful. I know exactly how she feels.”

Dorrie
thought of what she’d seen on the app. Jeanne wasn’t the only one with doubts
about this man.

“My
dear, what I’d like is for you to be an emissary and tell your friend the true
facts. Can you do that for me?”

She
nodded, wondering what kind of fabrication he’d present.

“It’s
true the first versions of the Forever Young pill were flawed. The tests
performed by your husband indicated it could cause thyroid hormone hyperactivity,
resulting in an  overreaction most likely leading to thyroid storms, rapid
heartbeat, arrhythmias, and other dangerous side effects.

“Fortunately,
not long afterward my own studies presented a breakthrough, and I was able to
scrap portions of the earlier formula in favor of a secure one. The new formula
is what you’re taking and what Michael McIntyre took, and also what the other
test market subjects will receive. I assure you, the Forever Young pill is
absolutely safe in its present form.”

He
looked sincere. What he’d said had to be true. Thank goodness, he’d chosen to
place her in his confidence. A great weight lifted from Dorrie’s shoulders.
Free from guilt, she could in good conscience continue as the pill’s
spokesperson.

“Do
you think you can relay that to your friend?”

She
smiled into his eyes. “Oh, yes, Roman, I will certainly do my best to convince
Jeanne she’s wrong in her assumptions.”

 Roman
bent his head down. “I only wish I could have gotten to her father earlier,
before his heart condition worsened. It might have made all the difference.”

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