Saving Face

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Uncertain

Dressed in simple tan slacks and a white blouse, Marilyn rang the doorbell at Walter and Gladys' house. A maid answered the door and showed her to the back patio.

Instead of sunning their gorgeous bodies in skimpy swimsuits like the last time she had seen them, the couple sat in padded chairs under a wide awning near the pool. Gladys was arguing with her nurse about some medication, while Walter sat hunched in front of a small table piled high with official looking documents. Two men in suits flanked him, and they were talking heatedly.

When Marilyn arrived, Walter rose to greet her. He looked haggard, with deep circles under his eyes. While Gladys had been restored to her own aging body, his had been destroyed in the fire, so Alterego had provided him the body of a convict. It looked young and fit and the tattoos were easily covered by his shirt.

Seeing the two of them together drove home the tragedy for Marilyn. Despite claims by Alterego that they would set everything right, they could never restore Walter to his former self. He was stuck in a different generation than his wife, and would be doomed to watch her die in a few years while he would live for decades.

As the horror of it settled over her, she fought to hide a wave of tears by giving Walter a fierce hug. Then she knelt beside Gladys and gently embraced her.

"How are you?"

Gladys managed a weak smile, but Walter growled, "We're in a right mess, Marilyn. Look at us."

"Is there any hope?" she couldn't help but ask.

"I don't see any." He dropped back into his chair. "I mean, I'm sure I could find some old guy willing to swap with me, but the technology was lost. No one knows how to do it any more."

"They'll think of something, dear," Gladys said with forced confidence.

"I hope so. In the meantime, it's a legal fiasco."

"Have you heard any more news from the congressional hearings?" Marilyn asked. Although her contract had been lost in the fire, no one had yet contested her ownership of the young body she wore. Walter was not so lucky.

He waved at the piles of legal documents on the table. "We're mired in a mess that'll take years to clear up, and threatens to consume all our life savings. In the meantime, there are hundreds of lawsuits out there. There's no precedent for this, and no one even has the final count of the dead. All the records were lost."

"I heard the family is suing you directly."

"Just one of the suits they filed. They filed for wrongful death of Jim, the guy whose body I ended up with, but life insurance companies don't know how to react. Do they count him as dead, or me? His consciousness is gone, but his body is living. My body is dead, but I'm still here."

Gladys piped in, "According to the courts, they're still trying to decide who poor Walter is."

"And if they decide I'm really Jim, then his family is preparing to sue me for child support!"

Marilyn didn't know how to respond. She hadn't considered all the legal issues hovering just under the surface of the rental program. She'd only ever focused on the fantastic gift of being young again.

"At least you have clear legal ownership," Gladys said to try to steer the conversation to a happier topic.

"Yes," she nodded, but couldn't help adding with a sniffle, "But when Bill learned the truth, he left me."

"Oh dear, you poor thing," Gladys said, and opened her arms for Marilyn to come for another hug.

"He doesn't deserve you then," Walter said harshly. "You'll find a better one, don't worry. Any man in his right mind would want you."

Gladys whispered into Marilyn's ear, "After I'm gone ..."

Marilyn recoiled, shocked by the implied suggestion.

Gladys gave her a sad smile and whispered, "Don't be such an old lady, Marilyn. You're the only person I know that I'd feel comfortable for Walter to marry after I'm gone."

Walter pretended not to hear, and the conversation turned to mundane gossip. Marilyn excused herself a few minutes later when the nurse reminded Gladys it was time for her afternoon nap.

As she slipped behind the wheel of her Cadillac, she wondered at the marvelous gift of youth she'd purchased. Was it a gift, or a curse?