“I told you from the beginning, it would be a challenge.” Johnny contemplates their moral compasses, quite askew from his, both of them prone to doing the ‘right’ thing.
“I know. I know. You doubt their greed. Their desire for the power I can give them. The same power I gave
you
with the combination of
their
blood.” Dr. Godfrey encourages Johnny, at the same time making sure he knows where his bread is buttered. “Their blood that is in limited supply,” he reminds of the significance of their participation, their donations to his small lunch cooler that he preserved from the lab explosion becoming scant. “They are the key, my boy. We have to have their cooperation at some point. Otherwise, none of this makes a difference.”
“Well, you’re gonna be hard-pressed to get them to go along with any of this now.” Johnny rehashes, in his mind, Lon’s baby news.
“Why? What has happened? Tell me. I cannot manipulate what I do not know.” A master-tasker, Dr. Godfrey grows as agitated as Johnny with the thought that he is unaware and uninformed.
Johnny shakes his head as he paces, coaching himself to keep his mouth shut about Brianna’s pregnancy. A child has no business being dragged into this
mad scientist
bullshit, he is convinced.
What does it even mean that they are pregnant? Would the baby be affected by this blood stuff?
He wonders.
“You’re the first, Johnny. The first of your kind. If you want to protect that, I need to know everything,” Dr. Godfrey preys on his hunger.
“She’s pregnant, alright,” Johnny snaps, disappointed in himself for divulging.
“Pregnant,” Dr. Godfrey expels as if he never considered the notion. “And it’s young Lon’s?” His mind begins a whirl of somersaults with the possibilities of what a pristine, moldable fetus would mean to his operation—
their
fetus.
“Who else’s would it be.” Johnny rolls his eyes.
“How far along? What month is she in?” Dr. Godfrey urgently tabulates each step from the formation of the egg and the sperm through birth. “It would be best to catch her in the first trimester. Otherwise, we cannot manipulate the embryo.”
“What do you mean, manipulate the embryo? You can’t bring a child into this. You wouldn’t bring a
baby
into this, right?” Johnny’s conscience grows empathetic. “I thought you were one of the good guys.” He doubts his teaming up with the seemingly harmless hematologist rather than the incontestably corrupt Dr. Shaw.
Dr. Godfrey chuckles. “In my line of work, there are no good guys. Everyone does what they have to do to get results.” His surpassing middle age only a reminder that he has yet to establish anything more than theories and hypotheses in his
extraordinary
research in pursuit of the extraterrestrial. He is certainly not about to grow scruples, not now, being so close to a breakthrough. Throwing a reprimanding glance in Johnny’s direction, he says, “You called me. Remember?”
“Yeah, yeah. I know.” Johnny shakes his head. “I wanted in on all of this. I still want in on it,” he admits, the adrenaline rush from the superhuman strength that courses through his veins with the mixture of Brianna and Lon’s blood given to him by the
mad
hematologist all the incentive he needs.
“Loverboy
and
Jolie Blonde,
they deserve what they get.” He ponders over their obsession with one another, including him in the loop when it suits their purpose, but leaving no real place for him in their lives. “But a baby? Come on, Doc. Even you have to admit that’s over the top. Kids should be off limits, right.”
Dr. Godfrey spans his arms out at shoulder height, spinning in place, his hands, like pointers, aim about the room at all of his overblown laboratory equipment. “Everything I do is over the top.” Slowing to a stop, he eyeballs Johnny once again, his beady peepers elevating up over his bifocals. “And nothing is ever off limits.”
“Well, I don’t think it’s gonna do you any good, anyway. She’s too far along,” he fibs, not knowing the real truth about Brianna’s trimester status. “She dropped out this semester because she can’t hide it anymore.”
“Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!” The uncharacteristic cuss words sound nearly foreign coming out of Dr. Godfrey’s mouth as he stabs a pile of molding clay in his workspace with a scalpel.
Johnny watches him, wondering which will ultimately emerge, Jekyll or Hyde? He has been coming to visit the gentle doctor for five months now for blood transfusions, training, testing and the like. This is the first time he has witnessed him lose his cool.
“Easy now, Gerry,” Dr. Godfrey coaches himself, once again using the childhood moniker assigned him by his mother. “‘You’re bright and brilliant, and one day the world will see,’” he continues his matriarch’s encouraging sentiments. As he forces deep breaths in through his nose and out his mouth, the voices in his head (those of heinous laughter—people laughing at him, not with him) cease. “Maybe I shouldn’t have been so hasty in convincing Dr. Shaw to give up on young Lon and his fair-haired love.” He contemplates how Dr. Shaw’s spying on them would have come in handy over the past few months, alerting him that she was pregnant.
“It’s best that Dr. Shaw stays out of this. You said so yourself,” Johnny urges, instantly upset with himself for considering Brianna’s protection yet again.
Why does he still care?
“Besides, she was around me all last semester, and I couldn’t tell she was pregnant. What makes you think Dr. Shaw’s flunkies would have been able to figure it out?”
“You’re right, my boy. Dr. Shaw is no ally of ours. Best to leave him at ETNA, with no inclination of what it is we’re embarking on here. He would only muck it up. Try and take credit for all of my hard work.” He circles around from behind his desk, his hands desperately but gently taking hold of Johnny’s arms. “But we cannot miss an opportunity like this again. Do you understand?” He tightens his grip.
“Yeah. I get it.” Johnny jerks away from his grasp, symbolism that he is not too keen on being controlled in any light.
“You wouldn’t be experimenting with your powers outside the laboratory, would you?” Dr. Godfrey inspects the scrapes and bruises on Johnny’s face, the ones from his tussle with Lon. “We cannot be exposed.”
‘What the hell have you been up to?’ Lon’s question zings through Johnny’s mind, the look on his face curious yet knowledgeable at the pale blue glowing eyes staring back at him. “You worry about the lab. I’ll take care of myself.” He turns to walk away.
“Your affinity for her will only grow stronger now that her blood courses through your veins. What are you going to do with all of that pent-up emotion?” Dr. Godfrey speaks, causing Johnny to pause. “I
will
oversee the laboratory,
and
you. I started this,
Daredevil,”
the unfavorable title meant to intimidate and remind Johnny of his place in the pecking order, “with the peace of mind that I could end it if things get out of hand.”
“You threatening me? I have to play by your rules. Is that what you think?” Johnny turns, facing Dr Godfrey, once again engaging his powers, his pale blue eyes begin to glimmer. He takes his time approaching closer to the docile hematologist, allowing his amped body to deliver. “I’m nobody’s pawn. You got that?” His voice distorts, his persuasive hand mangling the material around the collar of Dr. Godfrey’s lab coat.
Johnny grows disturbed when the action does not faze the elder scientist, who simply smiles up at the bad boy, the lenses of his bifocals shattering and popping out of their frames as Johnny finds himself the alarmed one. Emerging from behind the dainty wire frames still resting on Dr. Godfrey’s cheekbones are his brown eyes, the irises simmering a very controlled shade of crimson red. He darts them up at Johnny’s, the unbridled power behind them zapping out his understudy’s immature pale blue ray.
With a small, bony hand, the happy hematologist pries Johnny’s grip from his lab coat without much effort at all. Jabbing his thumb into a pressure point on Johnny’s hand that he now holds in his, Johnny falls to his knees on the floor, the pain excruciating. Dr. Godfrey continues smiling very gallantly, extending his junior a friendly wink before turning loose of his appendage.
“Now, where were we?” Dr. Godfrey dusts off his lab coat, readjusting the mangled collar. His brown eyes, retreating, leave no trace of the crimson red glow, as if he has an on/off switch. Extending a hand to Johnny, which the bad boy reluctantly accepts, he helps him to a standing position. “Ah, yes. We were discussing the future of our relationship, weren’t we, Johnny, my boy.”
Johnny watches him, his expression somewhere between loathing and awe, completely stifled.
“You are going to mind your Ps and Qs. No showing off outside the laboratory.” Dr. Godfrey continues working away at his station, his head and eyes down, immersed in more studies of Lon and Brianna’s blood samples. “You are going to maintain your friendship with young Lon and his jolie blonde. Where you will report to me anything of significance. More specifically, another pregnancy.” He pauses his work, his eyes shifting up and to the right with his thought of what catching such a miracle of life at the appropriate stage could do for his project. He cannot help but smile with the possibilities.
Finding his voice box, Johnny attempts to deliver his question as a mere curiosity, camouflaging his concern. “How do you figure you’re gonna get them to cooperate?
If
there is another pregnancy?”
“That’s not for you to worry with. That’s my department.” Dr. Godfrey looks up at him, his eyes flexing over the top of his bifocals as usual. “I wouldn’t hurt the child. Just groom it, that’s all. Giving it a most unusual existence.” He views the extraordinary coupling of Lon and Brianna’s blood under his microscope, wondering what one more addition—that of their offspring—would do to the mix. Surely it would only synergize, resulting in even more superhuman strength and power. “Maybe even immortality,” he adds.
“Immortality?” Johnny whispers, glancing down at his arms, the veins there (the ones Dr. Godfrey pumped a combination of Lon and Brianna’s blood through) are easily observed. The brunt of the bittersweet promise of eternity registers inconceivable.
“And don’t kid yourself, Johnny, my boy. There will be another child. Maybe more. Young Lon and the fair-haired one are destined to be together. You can see it in their blood…one of the most basic components of human existence.” Dr. Godfrey continues eyeing the attraction of the viscous substances under his microscope, winding and whirling earnestly about each other as if performing an intimate dance.
“But it could be years,” Johnny excuses.
“Possibly. But it’s worth the wait. You mark my words,
Daredevil,”
the term spoken with endearment this time, “it will be the best thing that ever happens to you.”
“You mean, the best thing that ever happens to
you.”
“Oh, I will benefit greatly.” Dr. Godfrey chuckles. “But you. You will finally have your connection to Jolie Blonde. Quite possibly her
mini-me,”
he contemplates the sex of the child.
Johnny shakes his head, backing away toward the exit, wondering what the hell he has gotten himself into. “I completely read this all wrong,” his underlying comment being that he would have been wise in partnering up with the outwardly ruthless Dr. Shaw—at least he would have known what to expect.
The idiom
a wolf in sheep’s clothing
becoming more and more applicable to the situation as the tame hematologist exposes his true colors.
“See you this weekend,” Dr. Godfrey calls after him cheerfully as Johnny backs out the door. “We have much training to do, Johnny, my boy.” He lets loose a gratifying chuckle at the new developments in his research, only propelling him to work longer and harder. “Sleep? Who needs sleep?” He continues talking to himself preparing for another all-nighter, completely unaware that delirium is upon him.
Another five months have passed, a forgiving winter skipped spring altogether, resulting in a typical and punishing New Orleans summer. It’s mid-June and the bayou that runs parallel to Lon’s parents’ home only adds to the humidity, and ultimately the heat.
Lon rounds the long stretch of backwater in his father’s motorized airboat at an excessively high rate of speed. Killing the engine, he lets it coast up onto the bank to the side of the modest home there. The momentum with which he hits, results in a rocky docking. Already on his feet, he uses the force to jump out of the boat onto dry land.
“Now, son, don’ go breakin’ ma boat,” Alonzo greets him, helping him to safely anchor the vessel. “I make ma livin’ wid dis here ting.”
“I know. I know. Sorry, Pop. I got here as fast as I could. How’s she doing?” Lon’s mind runs as fast as his heartbeat. “I didn’t miss anything, did I? Dammit. I told her I’d be here for her.” He manhandles the tie-downs, frustrated.
“Ya didn’ miss a ting, son.” Alonzo puts his arm around Lon’s shoulders, escorting him to the house. He purposely keeps his pace slow, hoping it will have a calming effect on his boy. “She jus’ contractin’, dat’s all. Mama say she gettin’ close.” The preceding twinkle in Alonzo’s eyes is all the affirmation Lon needs that his father is excited about the arrival of his first grandbaby.
“That house I found today. The one near campus to rent, so Brie can finish school. It has a spare room. I figure we’ll use that for the baby.” Never having witnessed the astounding event that is the birth of a child, especially his own, Lon focuses on the things that seem important—providing for and taking care of his flock. “It’s kind of small, Pop. But if we can just make it work for a little while. Until I get my feet underneath me with this new job. Get some money in the bank.” He makes frank eye contact with Alonzo. “I’m going to build her the house of her dreams. I swear I am. I just need some time to get there.”
Alonzo smiles at him, giving his shoulder a sturdy squeeze, quite proud of the man he has raised. “I know ya will, son. No doubt in ma mind.” They near the steps to the house. “But you need ta let all dat stuff go fer now. You don’ tink ’bout none of it. Now’s da time fer you an Jolie Blonde ta jus’ be. An welcome dat sweet mir’cle inta da world.”