Mutation

The Franks felt triumphant as Victor pulled his Oldsmobile Cutlass into the crushed stone driveway leading to their clapboard farmhouse. All the planning and anguish of the in-vitro fertilization process had paid off. The search for an appropriate surrogate mother, the dreary trips to Detroit had worked. They had a child, and Marsha cradled the infant in her arms, thanking God for His gift.

Marsha watched as the car rounded the final bend. Lifting the child up and pulling aside the edge of the blanket, she showed the boy his home. As if comprehending, Victor Jr.

stared out of the car windshield at the pleasant but modest house. He blinked, then turned to smile at Victor.

“You like it, huh, Tiger?” said Victor playfully. “He’s only three days old but I’d swear he’d talk to me if he could.”

“What would you have him say?” Marsha asked as he lowered VJ into her lap. They had nicknamed him that to help distinguish him from his father, Victor Sr.

“I don’t know,” said Victor, bringing the car to a stop at the front door. “Maybe say he wanted to grow up and become a doctor like his old man.”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake,” said Marsha, opening the passenger-side door.

Victor jumped out to help her. It was a beautiful, crystal-clear October day, filled with bright sunshine.

Behind the house the trees had turned a brilliant profusion of fall colors; scarlet maples, orange oaks and yellow birches all competed with their beauty. As they came up the walk the front door opened and Janice Fay, their live-in nanny, ran down the front steps.

“Let me see him,” she begged, stopping short in front of Marsha. Her hand went to her mouth in admiration.

“What do you think?” Victor asked.

“He’s angelic!” Janice said. “He’s gorgeous, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen such blue eyes.” She held out her arms.

“Let me hold him.” Gently she took the child from Marsha and rocked him back and forth. “I certainly didn’t expect blond hair.”

“We didn’t either,” Marsha said. “We thought we’d surprise you like he surprised us. But it comes from my side of the family.”

“Oh sure,” kidded Victor. “There were a lot of blonds with Genghis Khan.”

“Where’s David?” asked Marsha.

“Back in the house,” said Janice without taking her eyes from VJ’s face.

“David!” Marsha called.

The little boy appeared at the doorway, holding one of his previously discarded teddy bears. He was a slight child of five with dark, curly hair.

“Come out here and see your new brother.”

Dutifully David walked out to the cooing group.

Janice bent down and showed the newborn to his brother.

David looked at the infant and wrinkled his nose. “He smells bad.”

Victor chuckled, but Marsha kissed him, saying that when VJ was a little older he’d smell nice like David.

Marsha took VJ back from the nanny and started into the house. Janice sighed. It was such a happy day. She loved newborn babies. She felt David take her hand. She looked down at the boy. He had his head tilted up toward hers.

“I wish the baby hadn’t come,” he said.

“Shush now,” said Janice gently, hugging David to her side. “That’s not a nice way to act. He’s just a tiny baby and you are a big boy.”

Hand in hand, they entered the house just as Marsha and Victor were disappearing into the newly decorated baby’s room at the top of the stairs. Janice took David into the kitchen where she had started dinner preparation. He climbed up onto one of the kitchen chairs, placing the teddy bear on the one just opposite. Janice went back to the sink.

“Do you love me more or the baby?”

Janice quickly put down the vegetables she was rinsing and picked David up in her arms. She leaned her forehead on his and said: “I love you more than anybody in the whole world.”

Then she hugged him forcefully. David hugged her back.

Neither realized that they only had a few more years to live.

1

March 19, 1989

Sunday, Late Afternoon

LONG, lacy shadows from the leafless maple trees lining the driveway inched across the broad cobblestone courtyard that separated the sprawling white colonial mansion from the barn. A wind had sprung up as the dusk approached, moving the shadows in undulating patterns and making them look like giant spiderwebs. Despite the fact it was almost officially spring, winter still gripped the land in North Andover, Massachusetts.

Marsha stood at the sink in the large country kitchen, staring out at the garden and the fading light. A movement by the driveway caught her eye, and she turned to see VJ

peddling home on his bicycle.

For a second, she felt her breath catch in her throat.

Since David’s death nearly five years ago, she never took her family for granted. She would never forget the terrible day the doctor told her that the boy’s jaundice was due to cancer. His face, yellow and wizened from the disease, was etched on her heart. She could still feel his small body clinging to her just before he died. She had been certain he had been trying to tell her something, but all she’d heard was his uneasy gasps as he tried to hold on to life.