An Underground River

I remember how it all seemed like a dream. Sometimes a moment can seem to last forever. At other times unfortunately, that moment does last forever.

Such a fool! Naïve is what I was. But how? Rage builds inside as I stumble from left to right. My shoulders slump. I try to forget, or to remember how I fell into this trap.

Don’t look at me that way, like I’m just a reflection from some nightmare. And don’t lecture me about how wrong I was. I know. I was there! I feel the salty sting across my cheeks still, but I try to ignore it. Whatever might have been the confident Charles Matthews, rising to the challenge of always being positive, always looking to the bright side, is lost. A shattered past with too many pieces missing.

I remember that last day in the hospital. That empty feeling of loss. That helpless caving in when you are witnessing a piece of your heart being torn away from you. Seeing my dear Aunt Clara in that bed was difficult enough. But hardly recognizing her as the once warm spirit she was. It was agonizing. I can’t begin to imagine the constant pain she had been going through these last three months. Wow. Is that all it’s been? Three months of the pancreatic cancer waltz. The nurse remarked that she’d never seen anyone shrivel away so quickly.

So I sat there for six hours holding her hand as she battled through a high fever. Clearly a last stand by her overwhelmed body. I could hardly bring myself to look her in the eyes or say a few words of comfort. But I had to if only for one last chance to say thank you. She was my whole life. I owed her everything. Aunt Clara was my true mother, looking after me since I was 3, my parents the unfortunate victims of a plane crash, technical systems malfunction landing them in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. Aunt Clara answered the call without a moment’s hesitation.

She taught me that love comes first and conquers all. Yes, the eternal optimist, drilling into my growing awareness that humanity was made up mostly of good caring individuals. And I believed that and practiced it into the core of Charles Matthews.

In school I was the poster child of a shy and sensitive boy, always trying to make friends but not really knowing how to do it. So I buried myself in books.

Mostly I was drawn to books about unique scientific achievements. How could there be any greater power than to change the course of human progress through innovation. Particularly, chemistry. Nothing was more important than making people healthier, to live longer, look younger, beat all disease.

There my Aunt lay in pain at the hands of a faceless disease. I couldn’t do a damn thing. How to repay her for all that extra work she put in to ensure my best education? Her self-sacrifice for my degrees. I could not look her in the eye.

After the funeral I was brought into the executer’s office to discuss her ‘estate’. I didn’t expect anything other than some family heirlooms. You know, some crystal wine glasses or some old locket. In shock I discovered she left me $20,000. I’d never had more than a few hundred in the bank before. To me it was a huge sum.

She had also left me a personal journal, a beautiful handwritten book expressing her loves and some favorite memories. But it’s the ending that reverberates through time and space.

“You have a beautiful spark, my beloved Charles. A heart as big and deep as the blue abyss. You can’t always explain how things happen for good or bad, or how you got to this point, but it’s like discovering an underground river. You don’t know how you found your way and you don’t know where the light is coming from. But don’t waste time trying to figure out from where or to where the river flows. You may never again see it. Choose the mystery. Make it count.”

It’s so hard to recount those last words she left me. Her most priceless gift, the true wake and legacy of her having been here.

A few weeks of mourning later, I walked outside again. I took the check from my pocket, held it up to the sky. The clouds were still, the sun piercing through in throbs. At last, the heavens answered. I could now make out the castle of my dreams. Not in the sky, no, but right here on terra firma. I would use her money to start a fund to help young aspiring chemists, for those young minds who truly saw how good we all can be if we put in the work. If I couldn’t save the world by myself, then at least I could get as many minds as possible to join the cause of curing the human body through chemistry.

To my surprise the foundation was a success, small but growing as it attracted investors from all over.

Then the call came that echoed through my dreams. An invitation to meet with Cooper Doyle of the Harmony Corporation. Now this guy was famously the top dog in genetic research, his company performing scientific miracles.

Stepping into his office was like passing through heaven’s gate. He lavished me with praise and told me he was blown away by my thesis. He told me that he’d been looking for a genius like me to head his new department of cell regeneration with the potential of wiping out cancer as well as age-related diseases. He offered me my own lab with my own team and a salary that would have made my Aunt faint. Oh, my Aunt. I wished she were here to see this. This is what she fought so hard for. This is what I, Charles Matthews, fought so hard for.

The first day could not come fast enough. I woke up extra early and walked the entire hour trek to work. My steps felt so light I could swear the wind at my back was blowing me to my destiny. Little did I know about flights of fancy and their perils.

As I approached the mammoth Harmony Inc. complex, I felt a sense of belonging that I had only read about in adventure books. How could this possibly be considered work? It was life itself.

I strode confidently into the lab, my lab, for the very first time. Aah, it had the delightful aroma of a new book, never before opened. A fresh canvas awaiting new discoveries to be inked into it forever.

My team, all brimming with youthful exuberance, was introduced to me one by one. And oh my, there she was. Galyna Westera, a vision straight out of my fondest dreams. Our eyes locked instantly. I literally forgot who I was and what I was doing there. Something about her, far beyond simple chemistry. It was magnetic. It was existential. It was about thirty seconds before I realized I was staring at her, like gawking. But she reciprocated, blushingly, endearingly.

It took a few weeks for my shyness around her to finally subside as I had gained confidence as the leader of my squad. We were making great progress in our oncology research which definitely created a tightly knit family-bond feel to it all.

Every night I would stay until I was the last to leave. But was it due to my commitment and passion to giving it my all, or perhaps because I kept hoping I would find the courage to ask Galyna out for a late dinner?

Then one night I headed to the parking lot as usual, and there she was. Staring at the moon as she sat on the concrete stairs. It’s almost as if the light of the moon had targeted her from afar. Almost as if she was waiting for me. Regardless, I boldly seized the moment and took her for a moonlit drive along the coast.

Remember? Remember how it all seemed like a dream? Like all the dreams I’ve ever had. The way she looked at me, her glowing smile. In looking back I guess I never really had a chance. There was a breeze, soft and salty, up from the shore sparkling under the moon. The coast glistened like a beach of diamond crystals. Not that I actually took note of it. My mind was on other things, feelings I had never experienced before. When I was younger there’d been moments like this, brief flashes when I didn’t think or care about the minor imperfections under my mask. But this was so different. I laughed when she laughed, ran behind her, feeling the sand slide and crunch beneath my feet, the cool wind brushing the hair from my brow. I felt the night deeply, as I’d never felt any before.

Before long we were going out almost every evening. It didn’t matter what we did. Just that we did it together. I couldn’t stop staring into those eyes. Truth be told, I’d never had a woman look at me like that either. They never hung around long enough to really see me.

Then came last night. An appropriate description. The last night.

I was investigating as to why my unfinished formulas were being taken out of my lab at the request of Mr. Doyle himself. Every time I asked for an explanation, I was told it was being taken for further testing by other departments for second opinions. But something wasn’t sitting right.

Eventually I stumbled onto a lab on the lower levels and discovered that my findings were being used for Project Sphinx - a military-backed project to use my formulas on soldiers to make them heal faster and be more endurable on the battlefield. No different, I immediately grasped, from the Nazis pumping their soldiers full of methamphetamines.

I ran up to Mr. Doyle’s office to confront him about it. And there he was. And there she was. Betrayal, disillusionment, truth. Call it what you will. The rage was so all consuming that I just went numb. Sure, she tried to explain away what was going on, but she gave up after a few minutes, realizing for the first time I could see past her eyes and right through her. Doyle didn’t say anything of course. Just stared contentedly.

Where the coast meets the rocky cliffs beyond the city limits was where I found myself. How did I get to this point? Running yes, but where? I wanted to cry to the heavens. I yearned for the pain to flow. I lay prostrate on the grass. Then suddenly I was falling, falling, right through the grass and mud, 20 feet or more.

Here I am. Lost in a dark hole. How will I get out of this? Will this be my final burial place?

Then I see a small black notebook. I tug it out of the mud, but it seems almost untouched by time. I would read it, but it is too dark in this cave. Then a light grazes upon the pages. I look up to see the hole I fell through has widened, the light of the moon piercing through. And there it is. This large magnificent flowing river revealed.

I knew you would come; I knew you would save me. Clara softly whispered.

“You can’t always explain how things happen for good or bad, or how you got to this point, but it’s like discovering an underground river. You don’t know how you found your way and you don’t know where the light is coming from. But don’t waste time trying to figure out from where or to where the river flows. You may never again see it. Choose the mystery. Make it count.”

Let’s see where this takes me.