The Reconnection Program
By Jennifer Hart
Fifty years we spent together, and now it was coming to an end. I sat in the hospital room watching her chest move up and down. It was getting weaker with each breath she took. I reached forward to stroke away a strand of gray hair that had fallen across her face, and her eyes opened at my touch.
“Henry” she said, smiling up at me. Her voice was just a whisper. She looked so small and helpless lying in that cold hospital bed, but for an instant I could see her as she was when we first met– a young girl with flowing brown hair, so happy and full of life. I could feel tears forming in the corners of my eyes, and Elaina noticed. She placed her hand on top of mine, the simple movement taking all her strength.
“Don’t cry Henry, we’ll be together again soon,” she said. I smiled down at her. “Soon,” I agreed. I gently pushed her hand to my lips. Her eyelids seemed to become heavy then and closed. The quiet beep of the heart monitor slowed until, after a moment, it stopped altogether. An alarm sounded, causing a nurse in blue flowered scrubs to rush in. She hit a switch on the monitor, then hovered over Elaina.
The nurse turned to me. “She’s gone Mr. Harris.” She glanced at the clipboard above Elaina’s bed. “You’re participating in the reconnection program?”
“Yes, we- I am,” I said, fidgeting nervously in my seat.
“Alright then, please step outside and go to the office at the end of the hall. Dr. Turner should be waiting there for you.” She held out her hand to help me from my chair.
“Oh, ok. Thank you.” As I left the room I took one last look at the Elaina I knew. I wasn’t supposed to be upset; we would be meeting again in only a few years, but it was still so hard to let her go.
I knocked on the door at the end of the hallway. “Come in,” a jovial voice called from the other side. I pushed open the heavy wooden door to see Dr. Turner sitting at his desk. He looked up at me, his thick glasses magnifying his eyes to double their regular size.
“Mr. Harris!” he said. “So good to see you again. Take a seat, we just have a few details to work out.”
I sat down across the desk from him. An elderly man and woman, holding a vial of clear blue liquid between them, grinned at me from a poster on the wall. At the bottom was printed: Karnosine Reconnection- never lose another loved one!
“Let me just pull out your file,” Dr. Turner said, rummaging through a stack of papers on the corner of his desk. “Ah, here it is. I see you’ve chosen euthanasia?”
My stomach gave a nervous lurch at the sound of the word. “Yes,” I responded.
The doctor nodded. “A very good choice, we highly recommend it. You’re in good health. It could be years before you pass naturally! And it really is unseemly to have a twenty year old woman dating a ten year old boy no matter what their history may be.”
I nodded silently.
“Now I’m going to ask you to sign here, here, and here,” he said, handing a slip of paper to me. He made an X on each line as he pointed to them. I didn’t bother reading the document, just put my signature where he had marked.
“Good. Finally, I’m going to take a blood sample to have on record. Otherwise we’ll have no means of matching you once you’re reborn.” He walked to a cupboard on the side of the room and pulled out a small device with a needle at the end.
“Put out your left pointer finger please,” he instructed. I did so, and he jabbed the needle into me. A drop of blood formed at my fingertip, which he collected on a little strip of paper. “Great, we’re done!” he said, pushing the paper into the back of the device. “That will just need to sit for a moment.” He placed the device on the desk between us.
“So, you must be very excited! We don’t have your karnosine type on file, so that would mean this is your first time participating in the program?”
“It is, yes,” I said.
“Alright then, let me explain the process to you. It’s very simple really. When we’re done here, you’ll come with me into the operating room where you’ll be euthanized. After passing, it usually takes about six months for you to be reborn. Since the discovery of the chemical, every infant is of course tested for their unique karnosine composition so that we can match them with their prior lives.” He browsed through my file. “I see you and Elaina have chosen to be reconnected when you’re twenty?”
“Yes,” I said, glancing at the device which had begun humming quietly.
“A wise decision. You’ll be out of those awkward teenage years by then but still young enough to have a long life together.” He looked through the file again. “You know before the discovery of the chemical no one even knew that people were reborn?” he said as he scanned the documents. “Imagine going through life that way! Terrible, just terrible. Well, I suppose the Buddhists knew. Anyway,” he looked up at me again, “once you’re reborn and matched, we’ll wait until you’re twenty years old and send you a note informing you of your participation in the program. You’ll come in, look at your file, find your designated meeting place and time, and the rest is up to you! Very romantic really. So any questions, concerns-” The device emitted a loud buzzing noise, cutting him short.
Dr. Turner furrowed his eyebrows and scratched his head. “That’s strange.” He picked up the device and looked at the small screen in the center of it. “Oh my… Oh no.”
“What is it?” I asked.
“Oh Mr. Harris, I’m so sorry,” he began, his bug eyes staring at me from across the table.
“What do you mean you’re sorry?” I demanded. “What’s the problem?”
“Mr. Harris, I’m not quite sure how to tell you this. You see sometimes, very rarely, a person is born without karnosine, and so cannot be reborn. I’m sorry, but,” he turned the device to me so that I could see a large flashing ZERO on the screen. “You’re karnosine null, and cannot participate in the program.”
My heart sank into my stomach. “But there must be something you can do? Some kind of therapy or a transplant or something?”
Dr. Turner took a deep breath. “Well, there is a transplant procedure, but it’s very risky-”
“I don’t care if I die, I’ll take the risk!” I blurted out.
“Mr. Harris, the risk isn’t that you’ll die during the procedure. No, the transplant itself is really quite straightforward, though if done incorrectly it may not take. It’s the donor that’s the risk.”
I shook my head. “I don’t understand.”
“Well what kind of person would give up their chance to be reborn? There has to be all kinds of testing done to make sure their karnosine is uncontaminated. And the waiting list for viable karnosine was over ten years the last time I checked.” He put his hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry Mr. Harris, but I’m afraid it just isn’t an option for you.”
A nurse knocked on the door then and peeked her head in. “Dr. Turner, you’re needed in room 201.”
“Alright,” the doctor said, pushing himself up from his seat. “Mr. Harris, again, I’m terribly sorry, but there’s nothing that can be done.”
“But what do I do now?” I asked, trying to hold back my tears.
“You go on with your life, Mr. Harris,” Dr. Turner said simply. He patted me on the back and walked out of the room.
I wandered into the hallway trying to contemplate what my life would be like from now on. I was seventy years old, would probably live at least another ten or fifteen years, and I would be all alone. Forever.
“Mr. Harris?” a voice called from behind me. I turned to see a middle aged janitor holding a mop.
“Yes?” I responded.
“Hi, I’m John,” he said, outstretching his hand for me to shake.
“Do I know you?”
“No,” he said, then lowered his voice. “Listen, I overheard what happened to you in the office. I think I can help.” He looked over his shoulder before continuing. “I’ll cut to the chase- I’ve got a friend, a doctor, who could do the transplant for you.”
My heart skipped a beat. “Dr. Turner said the waiting list for a transplant is ten years long.”
John shrugged his shoulders. “Well my friend has some connections, knows some people who can get it quick.” He reached his hand into his shirt pocket and pulled out a small white card. “Here’s his business card,” he said. “Think about it.” The sound of footsteps could be heard behind us then. John put his mop on the ground and began to sweep.
“Thank you,” I whispered, and left the hospital. When I got into my car, I dialed the number written on the card.
“Hello?” a gruff voice answered.
“Hello, I’m calling for…” I checked the name on the card. “Dr. Felton.”
“Hold on,” the man’s voice said. There was a clicking noise as he set down the phone, followed by a few seconds of silence.
“Dr. Felton speaking, who’s calling?” came another man’s voice through the phone.
“This is Henry Harris,” I began. “I was given your card by John at Burlington Hospital.”
“Of course,” Dr. Felton said. “How can I help you Henry?”
“Well, I…” my voice faltered slightly, “I was told you could help me get a karnosine transplant.”
“I see,” the doctor said, and was quiet for a moment. “Yes, I would be able to help you with that.”
My heart leapt at the news. “I know the waiting list is very long, but I would like to have it done as soon as possible.”
“Oh I could do it within the week,” Dr. Felton said. “But acquiring the chemical… Well, it’s very expensive.”
“I don’t care about the price, I just need to have the procedure done,” the words poured out of me.
“Alright then Henry, come to my office on Thursday at 2:00 pm. The procedure is quick and painless.” He continued to give me directions to his place, and the price. I thanked him and hung up the phone, and waited for the next three days to pass.
#
On Thursday afternoon, I arrived at Dr. Felton’s office. I had to empty out my bank account to afford the transplant, but it didn’t matter. I was about start my life all over again and had no need for the money.
The office was small, the brick façade had been painted over several times in an attempt to cover the graffiti, but now was chipped and peeling in places. As I opened the door to go inside, a bell rang. A bearded man sitting behind a desk at the side of the room looked up at me when I entered.
“Henry Harris?” he asked with his gruff voice- this was the same man who had answered the phone when I first called.
“Yes, I’m here for my appointment,” I said, and hoped he wouldn’t hear the nervousness in my voice.
“Dr. Felton is ready for you in the back room,” he said. “But you pay here first.”
I handed over my life savings, then turned and walked through the little blue door next to the desk. I entered the room and found Dr. Felton waiting inside, wearing a long white lab coat. He had short brown hair that was graying at the sides and his chin was covered in stubble. He walked over and introduced himself.
“Nice to finally meet you Henry,” he said, shaking my hand. “Please take off your coat and shirt- you can leave them over there,” he said, pointing to a small office chair in the corner. “Then lie down on the table.”
I did as instructed and laid back on the cushioned table. My stomach twisted into a knot, but I reminded myself that this was the best thing I could be doing.
“The procedure will take about a half hour,” Dr. Felton said, coming towards me with a machine that looked like two large IV drips attached to a metal box. “It will be completely painless, but I find it’s best to sedate patients. Otherwise you might move and knock out one of the tubes.”
He pulled a gas mask out from under the table and put it over my mouth. The room grew fuzzy. As my eyelids began to close, I saw Dr. Felton take a vial of thick, brown liquid from the cabinet.
#
We had chosen to meet on the eighth of May, our anniversary, at sunset. We would be meeting at the same place we had our first date. I was worried that I wouldn’t remember, but I did. I remembered everything- the way she looked, the way she smelled. So many years had gone by since I had last seen her, and I was so very old now. But I remembered.
I walked to the park an hour before the sun was due to set. It was only a few blocks from where I lived but it still hurt my joints to walk that distance. She wouldn’t recognize me, I thought. But it wouldn’t matter. I would know her anywhere.
I sat in the park and watched the people go by. Children ran by the lake chasing geese, a young couple had prepared a picnic. As the sun began to set, I scanned the horizon for her. I feared she may not come. But then, in the distance, there she was- Elaina. She looked exactly as she did when we first met. Young, beautiful, her brown hair down to her waist. She had come to meet a man she knew nothing about, only that in her past life she had loved him so deeply that she wanted to spend her next life with him, and that was enough for her.
Elaina sat down on a bench at the other end of the lake. It took a few minutes for me to build up the courage to go to her. Finally I did, and as I had expected, she didn’t recognize me. But then again, how could she? I wouldn’t have recognized myself.
At first she was startled when I appeared, but then she smiled at me. She had always loved animals.
“Well hello there!” she said in her familiar voice. “And who are you?” She ran her hand through my fur.
I turned my head and licked her hand, wishing I could tell her who I was, wishing I could do something to make her understand. But there was nothing that could be done. She could never understand. So I sat with her while she waited. She watched the sun sink behind the mountains, every few minutes glancing around to see if the man had come. Finally, after a few hours, she gave up and left. She had tears in her eyes when she walked away.
I returned to the park the next day to see if she would come back, and she did. She came back every day for a month until she at last decided her past life’s love had abandoned her. If only she’d known that I had been there with her all along. The last day she came to the park was the last day I ever saw her. It broke my heart to know how hurt she was.
I went to the alley I called home and laid down on a heap of old newspapers. I was so tired, my body ached everywhere. My eyelids grew heavy until I could no longer hold them open. I knew my time was coming to an end, but as my eyes closed, I felt a flicker of hope. I had lived a good life, I had always been a good boy. And now I would be reborn.
- - -
Jennifer lives in New Jersey and is a law school graduate. She enjoys painting and writing speculative fiction. Her work has most recently appeared in Flashshot.
