The Apotheosis. Darrell Lee

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СКАЧАТЬ company, found financial backing, and in five years had his new drug from “The Numen Company” on the market. That was the same year I was born.

      In the first year, the company earned $300 million, more than anybody at that time expected. Sales continued to climb every year thereafter, as new drugs were developed and brought to the market—all of them the brainchild of my dad. The year of my tenth birthday party, sales exceeded $15.7 billon.

      All stories, just as all lives, have a beginning. My life has two beginnings. There is the obvious one, the day I was born. The second was on my tenth birthday. There is a before and an after, with this day in between. I was very advanced academically for my age by this time. I had begun taking high school-level courses the year before. Everyone else in my classes was five to seven years older than me. Without friends at school, my birthday parties became more sparsely attended. My parents tried to fill the gap with children of couples they knew from work or social events. They meant well, but you can’t fake friendship. So, this celebration was like the one the year before—more routine tradition than a real party.

      On a cloudless, warm September afternoon, under the shade of a large elm tree beside the pool, the table stretched out ten yards in front of me, half of its length covered with brightly wrapped presents. Everyone sang “Happy Birthday” and the gifts were opened. It was nice. But what I was waiting for was the annual football game.

      “All right, let’s see how many players we have,” my father said as he stood by the table in his running shoes, blue jeans and t-shirt, holding a football in one hand. He counted out the children at the table. “Looks like ten. But I believe I can get Robert to join us, then I can play on the other team, giving us a decent six-man game.” He winked at me. My dad loved the chance to play a game of backyard football.

      “What do you say, Robert? Want to join the game?” My father looked over his shoulder at my Uncle Robert, who stood by the bar in the cabana. He was my mother’s brother. Whatever maternal instincts she lacked he was gifted with.

      Of course, I always played on my dad’s team. The game went on for an hour. Uncle Robert’s team was leading by a touchdown when the moment arrived. One of the boys on my team picked up the “kick-off” and started left. Heavily pursued, he could see his mistake, so he quickly tossed the ball backwards to me. I ran right, but two opposing players quickly converged on me, so in an instant I turned and threw the ball half the width of the field to my father, who was standing in the clear. He was as surprised as anybody to see the ball coming his way. Instinctively, he caught the ball and began running upfield. Uncle Robert stood behind all the other players. He was the only one who would be able to catch my dad and so he began his pursuit.

      My dad ran hard to his right, trying to get around the angle of pursuit. Uncle Robert gave chase, adjusting his original bad angle to reach for the flag dangling from my father’s hip as he ran by, but he wasn’t able to grab it. Now it was a foot race to the far goal line. I ran behind them as fast as I could. Uncle Robert slowly gained ground and reached for the flag on my dad’s belt a second time, just as he crossed the goal line for the tying touchdown.

      I cheered. All the kids on my team cheered. I was still running to him. Uncle Robert stopped and put his hands on his knees to catch his breath. I was almost to him. My dad walked slowly away from me, dropping the football from his hand. I stopped at his side. His hands came up to his chest and his shoulders hunched forward. He stumbled and pushed me out of the way as he fell. I watched his last breath go out of his body as I knelt in the grass beside him. My father was only forty-three.

      The next six months were a blur. Much to my mother’s surprise, I was to inherit 40 percent ownership of the company and a place on the board of directors upon my twenty-fifth birthday. She got 5 percent ownership. She took out her anger and shame on me at this revelation and numbed herself with alcohol. By the beginning of the next school year, I was living with Aunt Cathy and Uncle Robert. They didn’t even have to fight for legal custody. She let me go. And I was better off for it, I am sure. They didn’t have kids, so it was a good fit.

      All my belongings were moved into an upstairs bedroom. That first day, I walked to the desk in front of the window that looked out to the large backyard. The yard was filled with trees, their leaves just starting to turn yellow and red. The afternoon sun came through and filled the room.

      “All right, well, Robert and I will be downstairs if you need anything.”

      “Thanks, Aunt Cathy.”

      They didn’t know their voices carried upstairs from the living room.

      “Are we really doing the right thing?” Cathy asked.

      “No doubt. I don’t want him raised by their long-forgotten second cousin who lives in a God-knows-where little town in Iowa,” Robert said.

      “I guess,” Cathy said. “But talk about a lot of changes for the poor child. I just hope we can get him through them all.”

      “There’s a team of lawyers working it all out. He’ll get a healthy chunk of money just from the selling of the house and furniture, not to mention John has 40 percent ownership in the company.”

      “I’m not talking about those changes! I mean living here, with us, in this house. The boy is going to feel like a stranger here. We’re going to have to work very hard to make him feel welcome and at home,” Cathy said. “I can only imagine how he feels basically losing both parents.”

      “We will, honey, we will. We owe it to him, and it’s the least we can do for Sean.”

      I could tell that Uncle Robert and Aunt Cathy had tried their best to comfort and help me through the previous few months. I didn’t feel bad about being there; I truly liked them and couldn’t think of a better place to be, given the circumstance.

      The stable home life enabled my academic work to pick up speed. Early graduation from high school, then Harvard. Again, an early graduation with my Bachelor’s and Master’s degrees. I won’t take up space here listing my academic achievements; they can be found online easily enough. Just before I started on my Ph.D., I made a trip home. Aunt Cathy insisted. I assumed it was because I’d been away for such a long stretch and she wanted to make sure to get some time before the Ph.D. work started. It was on my second night home, once we were seated at one end of the long dark mahogany table in the dining room, when Uncle Robert broke the news.

      “I’m retiring.”

      I was stunned for a moment. “Well, well that is great! What are you now, forty-five? Still young, Aunt Cathy is even younger. You guys can travel the world, see some sights. God knows you have been working hard for the last twenty years. You’ve done well so you can do whatever you want. I have to say, though, I am surprised. A life-long workaholic like you, checking it in early.” I smiled at Uncle Robert, who didn’t smile, then at Aunt Cathy. She didn’t smile back either. “So how come I’m the only one who seems to be happy about this?”

      “I really didn’t want to retire, but Cathy and I think it is the best decision considering…”

      “Considering what?” I looked at Cathy, who was looking down at her plate.

      “I went to the doctor a few months ago, had some tests run. And the results weren’t good news. They tell me I have cancer.”

      “What kind of—”

      “In my brain.”

      I could feel a surge, something like fear and panic, but I could see no threat in front of me and my mind couldn’t СКАЧАТЬ