Incarnate...

 

As water drips down a leaky hotel faucet, a woman peers into an oval shaped mirror contemplating her not so distant future. A duet of voices breaks the silence. One is masculine and anxious. “Marjon are you ready yet? We have to be downstairs in twelve minutes...” The other is an innocuous child’s mimicry. “Yeah twelve minutes…” A shrill, irritated voice muffled from behind the cloak of a hotel washcloth replies, “I’m coming... hold on!”

Dr. Marjon Pedhala Oldham - wife, mother, scientific journalist, freelance columnist for Lunar Magazine and tonight’s recipient of the OMNI award for excellence in the field of scientific discovery in journalism. This is to be her night to shine. A live cable broadcast banquette honoring her with the award is scheduled to start in one hour. With this comes an allotted twelve minutes for her to speak in acceptance. But Marjon has other plans unknown to her newlywed husband, Peter, and four year old, amazingly gifted and intelligent, daughter Sarafina. By now, they have been knocking on the bathroom door in tandem for nearly five minutes.

“Honey… we have to be leaving an-” Peter is cut short by the opening of the door. “I said I was coming.” A more relaxed Marjon, now adorning a Mona Lisa-esque half smile, exited the bathroom. With no hesitation, Peter rushes on. “Good, we have about seven minutes. The C-SPAN guys phoned earlier and need you down there to mic you up. And… are you okay? You seem distant.”

“Mommy are you alright?” The voice of Marjon's angelic child spoke.

Their words are not heard. They seem to bounce off the shell of a woman deeply in tune with what she’s about to do. “I’m fine,” she squeaked. And with that the three left the quaint little suite to be unexpectedly met by two young men wearing C-SPAN laminates pinned to their matching uniform style shirts. The younger looking of the two hesitantly stepped forward and spoke.

“Dr. Oldham, ma’am, we were sent to escort you down to the proper area for your treatment.” Their words seem foreign to Marjon, who stands half startled and stiff while Sarafina tugs at her evening gown, staring at the young men. “Okay”, Peter replied as they began to follow the young men.

The walk down the thin corridor to the elevator was long and seemed to move in slow motion. Sarafina skipped to stay in stride and continued to tug at her mother’s evening gown as her tiny feet occasionally got caught in the drugget. But Marjon, now inwardly focused, transfixed herself like the biggest card counting cheat keeping a poker face in Vegas. At the same time, keeping in step with the awkward pace of their designated leaders. And as if the tense pain staking silence of an eighteen floor controlled plunge downward wasn’t enough, the walk from the elevator to the Eden Lauré Ballroom seemed to be the most hectic. Each step shook the planet; moreover, the world of a now rubber legged scientific journalist.

Minutes or so have passed and Marjon is now mic’d and made up. Peter and Sarafina had disappeared in the sea of anxious supporters and colleagues a short while ago. But she wasn’t thinking of them. The moment for her speech is almost here and the ballroom, converted banquette hall, is probably as full as it’s ever been.

The energy of the room is directed towards a dimly lit podium area where on either side laid banquette seating. Marjon couldn’t help but be reminded of a comedic roast by the nights’ settings. However, tonight is no comedy of errs. As the people scatter to their respective seats, it’s fairly evident to Marjon that her moment is nearing.

The preliminary banquet ceremony is now ending and Conrad Sellers, the OMNI organization’s leading proprietor, is about to introduce Marjon to the television-viewing world. Following the air of applause and a brief introduction... “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m proud to introduce to you your OMNI award winner in the field of scientific discovery in journalism... Dr. Marjon Pedhala Oldham.”

The applause, at first, is almost mesmerizing to Marjon. Following a brief pause in her actions to take it all in, she speaks. “Thank you”, she mumbles. “This award is very special to me in ways that you could possibly never imagine. It is however, very ironic as well...” She pauses to clear her throat. “See when I started my exploration in DNA in the late seventies, there were set boundaries as to what extent one could examine without disturbing the sensibilities of peoples who think that certain perimeters of human understanding be better left unknown. In order for you to further understand, I must now revert to a story from my early days of undergraduate studies at MIT...” Looking perplexed, she shuffles through a stack of cue cards then hastily continues.

“Picture this, it’s a few hours past dawn in Allain, a small border town on the outskirts of Lake Ontario, Canada. The time is 9:43 a.m. and the residue of last nights’ rainfall is fading across an orange and silver skyline, supplying the backdrop for an otherwise normal day. The date is August 9th, 1974; a calm, serene Saturday morning on Sherman Street, where the echoes of cartoons are jostled into a horrifying uproar with an unsuspected joint siege by both the Canadian Mounties and the FBI on the estate at 1539 - a heavily guarded plot of land that served as home, office, and private laboratory for Samuel A Levesque, one time yogi and world renowned physicist and botanist...”

The audience of peers and supporters respond in astonishment with sordid whispering and “oohs” and “ahs” dancing between the dialogues of their honoree. Marjon adjusts to the adverse reaction and continues.

“The siege, which included numerous gunshots and apparent casualties, witnessed by a neighborhood of encapsulated onlookers peering behind an unnoticed cloak of Venetian blinds and curtains, ended with Dr. Levesque arrested, his entire estate ‘confiscated’, and the entire surrounding neighborhood quarantined in a three-block radius for nearly four years. With ongoing investigation, eyewitness account was documented as to the neighborhood inhabitants being taken and placed in military camps similar to those used by the U.S. government during the last world war in their treatment of the Japanese-Americans.

Reports of grueling and dehumanizing series of examinations took place. The few willing to talk about it quoted this as being the ‘treatment tests’. This brought about almost immediate attention to this matter by Amnesty International, the ACLU, and various other groups of this nature, but... no one responded. The public never found the end result and Dr. Levesque was never seen in Allain or anywhere else again.

The events following his arrest are unclear. It seems that even now, countless years after the siege, that no one is all the more clever of the situation. Dr. Levesque’s estate is now open to the public to examine, but apparently all intrinsic evidence was taken and only fragments of jumbled data are left. An apparent cover-up, right...?”

The hall is silent and has been for some time now. The desperation in her voice is evident. The totem of which the name Dr. Marjon Oldham was held seemed to be plummeting as she spoke, whereas the only feed-back was that of the clashing frequency noises between her blouse microphone and her podium microphone. Nonetheless, she continued.

“...He was unfolding miracles that would potentially change the world forever.” The pitch in which she spoke shifted with each emphasizing remark. Still there was silence. Simultaneously, two cameras flashed, startling Dr. Oldham like an alley junkie cowering from dancing shadows. Apparently rattled by her audiences’ rather stiff reaction, she continued.

            “...Um, for the past eleven years I have been receiving information detailing the experiments Dr. Levesque was working on. Code-named ‘INCARNATE’ – an exploration in DNA examining... an… And splicing. Splicing to recreate life.” She is again as boisterous as when she started. “Dr. Samuel Levesque spliced DNA. He took samples from various different sources, and created actual beings. Now I don’t know if scientifically we can call them humans, but their structure and appearance are those of everyday living human beings.”

Clearing her throat, Marjon continues. “This award tonight is for the exact same experiments Dr. Levesque started way back in 1973. Except he was shunned and eventually damned for his works and now you’re honoring me.”

            The audience is outraged into uproar. A once esteemed colleague, on this the night of indoctrinating her talents to prestige, now appears to be falling into the anonymity of a common loon. Even her husband Peter, judging by his skewed facial expression, can’t believe his ears.

           As the clamor of the audience stills to a dull roar, Marjon nobly thanks her crowd of peers for the award and vanishes behind the curtain that served as the backdrop for her iniquitous outpour. Still amazed by Marjon’s speech of sorts, all eyes (including Peter’s) now curiously turn toward her beautiful, amazingly gifted and intelligent daughter Sarafina, as the news cameras flash repeatedly.

Author's Note

author's note: i don't really dream anymore. instead, i get images in my head similar to polaroid snap shots. these are the premise to the bulk of my writing. most times the snap shots are difficult to put into words. this is an instance where i think i captured the image. lemme know what you think...

Reviews

[mick weller]

He's cut short by the opening of the door. (who? Peter?)
Peter is cut short... better?

adorning a Mona Lisa-esque half smile (maybe just a half smile?) Lisa-esque a bit clumsy? - the imagery draws your reader away from the story?

Does this refer to what is said next? ie blurts:

the angelic child's voice spoke. (?) voice? spoke? (back note: now I see this was a 'seed'... for the perfect child?)

squeaked (?) - she said I'm fine - I heard her ok?

'exited' - ok once i think as in - She exited the bathroom. (In the hallway they were met by two...)

O.k.", Okay?

pain staking

comedy of errs - errors?

(") Reports of... - add " - also here? "The events... (just to add a little precision perhaps?)

Ok so now we understand the 'perfect' daughter...
yes I can see that you have captured the image here... and I can see why it has been difficult to put into words - you are expecting a lot from your reader in the complexity of getting onto the stage to deliver what is essentially the 'BIG' confession* as well as aluding to a major scientific bombshell, and I suspect that the significance of the 'perfect' angelic daughter is lost on most readers (I never read other reviews as I like to read the piece 'clean')

*all eyes (including Peter's) - so her husband doesn't realise the daughter is part of the DNA experiment (?)
'...and created actual beings. Now I don't know if scientifically we can call them humans, but their structure and appearance are those of everyday living human beings." '

'The audience is outraged into uproar. A once esteemed colleague, on this the night of indoctrinating her talents to prestige, now appears to be falling into the anonymity of a common loon. Even her husband Peter, judging by his skewed facial expression, can't believe his ears.'
This doesn't 'help' the reader - but then I can see that it's not meant to... it does build tension to what is to follow... hmm...
I think, this piece extends you, as the writer, beyond - 'what you know' - but from what you say, as your inspiration for the piece is a single image - it's a good job. But you need to concentrate on getting that final vital piece of the jigsaw across more clearly I feel...
But a fantastic image you have there - kind of X files stuff? and who knows what's gone on 'out there'
your big challenge as I see it is to get those 'snap shots' into a more disciplined framework...
great though - brilliant idea!

[leftnwrite08]

As an added note: if my review seems somewhat critical, it is not to say I didn't enjoy your piece (which I did)-- when I review someone's work, I typically examine areas of improvement, rather than lathering praise upon that which is already good and working in the prose. I did enjoy this, and thought a lot of things worked well; however, I tend to think a review is wasted in praise (unless something is exceptional, with little need for improvement) ... So don't think I didn't enjoy it, or that I'm trying to be overly or overtly critical; that's the least of my intentions! Cheers!

[leftnwrite08]

I think you need to expand on this. What draws everyone to curiously turn their gazes to Sarafina (do you know, by the way, the meaning of that name? I was wondering your reasons for choosing it)? Much of your prose could be expanded to introduce the reasons for the doctor's hesitance and nervousness before the award ceremony. Why should the fact that Sarafina is "amazingly gifted and intelligent" hint something about her revelation at the end? What do these characters look like, do on a daily basis, do together, etc? Are the doctor and her husband in love? (A curious question, but one that could potentially suggest a lot about the curiosity toward the daughter ...) What does it mean that the audience was "outraged into uproar"? Were they angry? Applauding? Confused? I understood after a second reading that the "colleague falling into the anonymity of a common loon" was Marjon (from the first reading I assumed you meant Dr. Levesque). Make sure you are clear in your assertions regarding your characters; let me know, as a reader, who these people are-- make them real to me.
A small grammatical note: watch your use of quotation marks. In Marjon's speech, a double quote should begin each new paragraph (those that begin "Reports" and "The events"); this is something you did in the first paragraph of the speech (beginning "The siege") but not those following. Without them, the second paragraph of the speech could be confused for narration rather than her monologue.

[Carrie Montgomery]

very interesting...
"

As water drips down a leaky hotel faucet, a woman peers into an oval shaped mirror contemplating her not so distant future. A duet of voices breaks the silence. One is masculine and anxious. "Marjon are you ready yet? We have to be downstairs in 12 minutes..." The other is an innocuous child's mimicry. "Yeah 12 minutes�" A shrill, irritated voice muffled from behind the cloak of a hotel washcloth replies. "I'm coming... hold on!"
~ this opening paragraph offers an ordinary/family feel to the story and makes the characters easy to relate to.
"But Marjon has other plans unknown to her newlywed husband Peter and ...4 year old.daughter Sarafina" nice job of foreshadowing...keeps the reader interested
"Still amazed by Marjon's speech of sorts, all eyes (including Peter's) now curiously turn toward her beautiful, amazingly gifted and intelligent daughter Sarafina, as the news cameras flash repeatedly."
aha! very nice twist...and what a cliff hanger, you really leave it open so we can guess..."did she or didn't she?"! Very well done, great talent.

[EliJoLee]

woww.
loved the story line.
made me keep reading till the end and i held on to every word.
the ending was amazing and very mind boggling/surprising.
amazing.
great work.

[Audrey Owens]

Using the setting of an awards ceremony is clever. Especially with what you had Marjon do as she accepted her award.

As far as capturing an image in your head I think you got it. You captured the image of Marjon and her feelings and reactions to things perfectly. Good job!

[DarkIriswriter]

I guessing taht her daughter was incarnated...I love the whole story from beginning to end.I like how you placed the characters to the point in the situtions they seem so life like.I could visualize like I was accounted on actually being there.it is amazing how dreams can come into a story so vividly.


sara

[VIMH (Voice In My Head)]

Very good! I'm not much of a writer, so I can't offer anything constructive. There were only a few minor grammatical errors and only a couple of inconsitencies. Other than that, I enjoyed it a LOT. :)

[Kasey Klein]

Thanks for the invitation to read.

Note on the author's note: the human mind (and imagination) is an amazing thing.

As you're putting these pictures down on paper, you may wish to check for inconsistencies and redundancies. Just for example, they leave their quarters twice. And, the 'C-SPAN guys' who phoned earlier to say they were going to show up and 'mic her' unexpectedly show up to mic her.

numbers, with few exceptions, are spelled out.

I do realize this is science fiction and in science fiction, we get to create the universe with deal in. Still, to me, anyway, a room full of 'peer' 1) not knowing beforehand what Oldham's getting the award for is a bit of a stretch. I'd think the people passed over for the award, would check out what won. And, 2) I can't image a room full of scientist/journalists (peer) reacting in such a way. Again, it's your science fiction. You can and may create the universe as you wish.

Overall, consistency, redundancy and mechanics aside, it's an imaginative Twightlight Zone-ish (more Outer Limits-ish, because the reader isn't given any hints along the way to play along) tale, with a solid twist at the end.

[Brittaney]

And interesting development in the story. I was waiting for her to produce a being she contructed using her science. But instead, she just shocked the sensibilities of her peers and forced the truth into their face. If they had been as open in the past as they were now, modern science would be further along the road. Who knows, they might have found the cure to cancer or the code for flying cars.

[None]

First of all, your writing style is so fine! I was engrossed in your story from beginning to end. Your descriptions and allure of writing drew me in and I wanted to stay there. You left me wanting more. A part two perhaps? Your idea and imagination behind this was splendid. I could feel the crowd and her own anticipation. Your detail is great and the ending perfect with all eyes on Sarafina.
I didn't see one flaw here! Awesome writing.