A little security on the edge of the abyss. Can I really have that?
― Erich Maria Remarque
Safe Refuge
Feeling secure in my own house―is that too much to ask? I don't think so.
Sarah from my security detail dropped by to check in on me. I was feeling so vulnerable I wanted to ask her to spend the night. Now, I don't mean anything sexual by that, although she is incredibly beautiful.
I just wanted her to sleep on the couch or curl up on the floor, but I didn't ask and she didn't offer.
But when I woke up this morning her stealth vehicle was still parked just outside my door.
I was tempted to go out on the verandah and wave her in for coffee, but I figured that would be pushing things too far. Hell, she already thinks I'm a player―little does she know I'm introverted around women.
But me a player? That's rich.
I've been played by everyone, with the exception of Paige and possibly Claire, but I have huge gaps in my memory so who's to know what's real and what isn't? Certainly not me, hence my memory research.
I suppose some researchers like Banting and Best, and of course, the Curies, can be motivated by pure altruism, but not me―I admit it, I've got an agenda.
I want to uncover hidden parts of my past ,so unlike those other disinterested medical heroes, I'm no knight in shining armour―I've got skin in this game.
And the damnable thing is Paige knows something I don't and it's bugging the hell out of me.
So this is me―an anxious man with an angle to pursue, having to struggle with three strong women any one of whom is far more talented than me―and maybe I should add a fourth, and lump Sylvia into the mix.
I think I need to recover my lost memories just to compete on equal ground with these amazons foolish men call the weaker sex.
I'm back at the Hart House Grill enjoying my before-class coffee and croissant when Sylvia shows up. She looks particularly fetching today in a black mohair sweater and designer jeans.
"Hey Prof! You all right? I missed you yesterday." She's comfortable enough now not to wait for an invite but just sits down opposite me munching on a cheese croissant like me.
"No worries―had a service technician in to fix a leak in my house. It's all taken care of now."
Her eyes danced. "The tyranny of the mundane. They say it's the little foxes that spoil the vines."
You have no idea, I mused inwardly.
"Well, It's back to business as usual,"I said breezily, but could tell she wasn't buying what I was selling.
"You looking for volunteers for your memory project?"
"I don't handle that aspect of the research―recruitment is handled by Professor Daly."
"Maybe you could put in a good word for me. I'd love to participate in an actual drug trial and frankly I could use the extra cash."
Judging by her wardrobe and professional hairstyles and makeup I seriously doubted she wanted for anything.
"I'll pass along your name, but it's probably too late―the drug trials are beginning next week."
"Really―that soon?" She looked surprised.
"Have you participated in testing trials before?" I asked.
The question caught her off guard and she looked defensive.
"I was just wondering how you knew how long it would take to set up a research drug trial?"
"I don't," she sputtered, "I just figured your project was moving faster than I might have expected."
"We have an excellent team in place. I think that makes all the difference."
She nodded and seemed fidgety. "Well, I better get going. I have to look after a few things before class."
I smiled bleakly knowing one her tasks would be to notify Sloane Kettering immediately about our rapid progress. I would love to see the look on his face when he learned his sabotage hadn't slowed down our progress.
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