Aphasiac

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Sumter County Correctional Center

Harold couldn't sleep. His cot was too hard. His thoughts were too heavy. What could he possibly say that would make people believe that he was a good man with a good heart? Probably nothing. He missed his mother more than he could ever remember. In the fourteen years since she had died he had barely thought of her. Now he wished for her with all his being. Wished for childhood and her lap and her rocking chair and her whisper of a voice. "It was just a dream, Harry. Hush now. It was just a dream."

If only.

There was a picture of her on a dresser at home. He longed for home and he longed for that picture. The evident laughter in her eyes might help him deal. It would at least help him remember better days. At least offer a touch of comfort to the bleakness that seemed to embrace him. It was the coldest hug he had ever experienced.

He felt sorry for Jonah. He felt sorry about the guilt the poor man must be feeling right at that moment. He felt guilty about making Jonah feel guilty. He liked Jonah. Missed him a lot, in fact. Poor Jonah. He probably didn't have a choice. The cops or somebody probably worked out a deal for him. Testify and you're clean. If you don't we'll book you as his accomplice. Poor Jonah.

Goetz Residence

Poor Jonah was sitting in his living room thinking that maybe he should be crying because he did a terrible thing and thinking that he was terrible because he couldn't find any tears to cry. Despite what he thought of him, Jonah hated to see the man go down like this. It was pitiful.

Jonah fought off any guilt by reminding himself that he had no choice. When the cops came to him and showed him what they had on him there was no other way. It was kill or be killed. Talked or be killed. Whatever. It made sense in his head and he wasn't about to try and make it not make sense. He felt bad enough already.

So there he was. Jonah Goetz with a clean slate. No bad word under his name. He was relieved. And sad. Poor Harold.

"Want some cocoa?" Megan looked pretty in her yellow sundress. Solomon was already in bed.

"Hmm." He barely heard her. Wasn't sure what he was agreeing to either.

Lauren Gaye was a reporter for the local station. She was filling the television screen with her red red lips and breast implants, looking smart in a navy suit. She flirted with the camera as she spoke outside the city courthouse. A light breeze was blowing some of her perfectly styled hair out of place.

"America is in an upheaval after discoveries made today during the cloning trial of the well known and respected multi-million dollar retired surgeon Dr. Harold Donnelly." An unflattering shot of Harold leaving the building, cuffed hands covering his face to avoid the excited snapping of photographers cameras.

"Dr. Jonah Goetz, partner and friend of Dr. Donnelly," cut to photo of Jonah. Not bad. He could've been smiling a little more though, "revealed, when he took the stand today, the mind blowing fact that Dr. Donnelly had successfully cloned his wife. A woman who died over ten years ago.

"The American public is in an uproar, terrified of what this means."

Cut to street interview. Young woman lugging bags of groceries and two kids. "I think it's outrageous! Completely devastating! If this man could do it anyone could. We might get an army of Hitler's or Manson's someday very soon."
Back to Gaye. "Of course, live cell samples are needed to do this but just the revelation that this is now a reality has sent shock waves of panic throughout this peaceful community, our nation and soon the world.