The Apotheosis. Darrell Lee

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      “What are they going to do? There must be something?”

      “There is medication and radiation… because of where it’s located, surgery isn’t an option. We’re going to fight it, but the doctors did not sound too optimistic. So, we thought it was important for you to know. Cathy is going to need your help one day. But who knows, maybe some brilliant doctor like yourself will come along and find a cure.

      “The board has already picked my replacement. His name is Dr. Phillip Jones. I think you should meet him. You’ll be on the board of directors soon enough, so I think it’s important to start introducing you around.”

      “If you say so.”

      “Good, we’ll go tomorrow.”

      I remember the next day, looking up at the three-story red brick building. The parking lot for employees was across the street. At the very top of the building, in shiny metallic letters, was written “The Numen Company.” I hadn’t been there since my father died.

      “A lot has changed inside. We have a much bigger lab and a lot more people,” Robert said.

      The receptionist gave us a nod. Uncle Robert swiped his identification card over a gray pad next to a door on the left side of the lobby. He pulled the handle and we entered a hallway with doors to many offices. As I walked by each one, I saw one or two people seated at desks busily typing at the computer or talking on the phone. Near the end of the hall, where it made a right-hand turn, Robert opened a door with the nameplate “Dr. Phillip Jones.” To the right a blonde secretary was typing away at her computer.

      “Good morning, Elizabeth,” Robert said.

      “Good morning, Mr. Edward. Dr. Jones is expecting you.”

      Robert opened the oak door to the left of the secretary’s desk, and we stepped into the office.

      Dr. Jones sat behind a large dark oak desk with papers in disarray on top. He was older than Robert, with almost totally white hair and a receding hairline. He had a barrel-shaped upper body and almost no neck. He wore a white long-sleeved dress shirt, whose buttons were under a bit of a strain just above the belt, with a blue tie and dark dress pants. In front of the desk sat a young man in jeans and a brown tweed jacket, who appeared to be in his late twenties. He had thick glasses on his nose and a kippah on top of his head. Both men stood when the door opened.

      “Hello, Robert,” Dr. Jones said. “And this must be John Numen. It’s a pleasure.” Dr. Jones extended his meaty hand across the desk and I shook it. Dr. Jones nodded to the man in the thick glasses and said, “This is Dr. Ethan Shinwell. He’s our newest and brightest biochemist at the company.”

      I felt like a teenager who had been set up on a blind date with his cousin.

      “Dr. Shinwell has done some very interesting work at NYU. He has been with us about a year now and has really hit the ground running.” I shook Ethan’s hand. “Dr. Shinwell stopped by to talk about some matters with the lab. I suggested he stick around to meet you. I mean, after all, it won’t be long before John here will be on the board of directors. You and John will be working here together some day.”

      “It’s nice to meet you,” I said. Have you ever met someone and you can tell right away they don’t like you? That was what I felt from Ethan. I didn’t know then that he treated the whole world like that, with a constant air of moral and intellectual superiority. He was always sure either in one or both of those ways he was superior to everybody else. I’m sure he wanted to work his way up in the company; he knew about me before I’d ever heard about him. He thought I would be an obstacle to his advancement. He didn’t know how right he was.

      “It was nice to meet you both, but I really need to get back to the lab. If you will excuse me.” He left the room and closed the door. Dr. Jones motioned for me to sit in the chair Ethan had vacated, and Robert sat in the other chair.

      “I like that young man, but he has the social skills of a seventh grader,” Dr. Jones said.

      “Not everybody can be as charming as you,” Robert said.

      Dr. Jones smiled. “I sure am going to miss you blowing smoke up my ass around here. How old are you now, John?”

      “Twenty-four.”

      “Robert tells me you are doing well at Harvard,” Dr. Jones said.

      “Yes, sir.”

      “Looks like this nut didn’t fall far from the tree. Your dad was the same way, just as smart as could be. One helluva guy. You know you look a lot like your dad; tall, fit, same hair, but your eyes have the same shape as your mother’s.

      “I wanted to spend time with you and show you around myself today, but I have an important meeting with some customers. I’m sure Robert knows more about this place than I do anyway, so you’ll be in good hands.”

      “No problem, Phillip,” Robert replied. “I didn’t bring him here to put a crimp in your day. I’ll give him the tour. I just wanted you guys to meet face to face before John goes back to school next week.”

      We walked around the whole building. Most of it was boring offices, but on the third floor was the laboratory. Stepping off the elevator, we walked down a long hallway. Halfway down the hall were gray metal doors on each side. We stopped at the doors, and Uncle Robert swiped his card at the door to the right. A buzzer sounded and we walked in. It was one large room with tables gathered in groups in different areas and desks lined against the wall next to the windows. Men were working at different tables with equipment or computers. Ethan was there but at the far end of the long room. What he was doing wasn’t very clear, but he looked focused on the task at hand.

      “This is where all the real work gets done for the company. We don’t want to bother any of these guys; I just wanted you to see it.” Robert opened the door again and we walked out into the hall. I pointed to the other gray door across the hall.

      “What’s in there?”

      Uncle Robert swiped his card across the door’s pad and we stepped in. It was a large empty space, as large as half of the building, with a dirty, gray cement floor, unlike the white linoleum in the lab across the hall. It was dark and cold; a group of five narrow windows in the center of the far wall let in the only light.

      “This is where we hope to expand one day.” Robert’s voice echoed. “If you come up with the right idea, it can be yours.” I looked around the large, hollow space. Uncle Robert didn’t know it, but I already had an idea for the space. That day I was introduced to two things that would change my life: the future home of my new lab and Ethan Shinwell.

      There are a hundred things that make me think of her. Some don’t occur very often, but some do. Just the name Ethan Shinwell reminds me of the first time I saw her.

DECEMBER 2018

      HOLIDAY PARTY

      John stepped off the elevator and walked down the same third-story hallway as he had every day for the past three years. When he got to the gray metal door, he swiped his access card. A buzzer sounded. Upon his entry, the overhead fluorescent lights hummed to life. John approached a large table covered with computer circuit boards and computer screens. He removed his coat and jacket and СКАЧАТЬ