Most people will probably say I'm stretching it with my story line this time and they're probably right, but I needed to do what I did to make my point.
So, what happens when everything is taken from you? Your wife, your life's work, your pride and even your dreams; all gone, taken by someone who did it because they could. Would you go to the dark side, as I like to call it, to get your revenge, to make them pay even though you may lose yourself in the process? And if you did, is there anyway to come back to where you were before it all started? I'd like to think so.
Special, that's what my mom always called me. I always thought she called me that because my parents had lost their first two babies and I was born healthy. I didn't find out until much later that I really was special.
When I was six, my dad left. I had gotten pretty sick and was in bed for almost three weeks. When I got better, he just wasn't there any longer. I thought he was working out of town, like he did sometimes, and would eventually come back, but he didn't. I asked my mom and all she'd say is that my dad was a good man and that he'd always be my father whether he was with us or not. I found out later, from my grandmother, that when I got sick he thought I was going to die and couldn't bear the thought of burying another child. I wanted to scream at him that I was alive and to please come back, but I never saw him again; so it was just mom and I.
My mom worked for a law office and always worked long hours and weekends. Sometimes on weekends I'd go in with her and while she worked at her desk, I'd read or play on the computer. If I didn't bother her too much, she'd buy me an ice cream sundae on the way home, life was pretty good.
When I turned sixteen, I wanted to go out for the varsity football team. You needed your parents permission, so with the slip in hand, I passed it to her at dinner that night.
"Mom, I want to play football this year and I need you to sign this slip," I said passing it and a pen to her.
"Honey, I can't let you do that," she said with a sad look on her face.
"Why not, I'm not going to get hurt or anything."
"Steve, I can't take that chance. Wouldn't you rather run track or cross country?" she asked.
"Mom, only nerds do that. The coach said I'd be a natural because of my build, please?" I was begging now.
"Steve, I just can't let you, if something were to happened to you I'd never be able to forgive myself."
"Fine," I said in more than a pissed off voice. "I'll be the only one whose mom won't let him play."
"Steve, how many of your friends mothers had to bury their first two babies? Until you know what that feels like, you're going to have to trust my judgment. When you turn eighteen and want to jump off a cliff, I won't stand in your way. But until that time you're going to have to abide by my rules."
I got angry and stomped out of the kitchen.
"I'm not a damn kid any longer, she can't baby me for the rest of my life," I thought to myself. All right, I was angry but an hour later I was standing in front of her apologizing for being a jerk.
"I'm sorry, mom, but I really wanted to try out for the team."
"I know, but I guess it's time we have a little talk."
"Mom, if it's about sex, save it, I know pretty much all I need to know," I said getting more than a little embarrassed.
"Oh you do, do you? Well that's not what I wanted to talk about, but since you brought it up." I stopped her saying we could always talk about it later and was relieved she didn't push the issue. What teenage boy wants to talk about sex with his mother?
"What I wanted to say was that you are special, very special."
"Yeah I know, you're always telling me I'm special."
"But Steve, I never told you why," my mom said now holding my hand. "You see, you're one in ten million I'm told. You've got a little different genetic makeup and a rare blood type; something to do with RH but I'm not a hundred percent sure what exactly. All I know, if you were to get hurt and needed a blood transfusion that could be a bit of a problem. And, God forbid, if you needed a transplant, it probably wouldn't happen.
"I'm a freak?"
"Oh no, honey I'm not saying that, only that you've got a rare blood type that sort of fights off germs a little better than most blood types. Steve, I'm not a doctor, but as it was explained to me years ago, your blood has a tendency to kill the host, which is basically you. This is what killed my first two babies. That's why your dad and I decided against having any more children. Your father was furious when I accidently became pregnant with you. He didn't want to go through all the heartaches again but you beat the odds. However when you were younger and got sick, I guess he thought you were going to die and just left. I don't fault him for leaving. He was a good man but I guess he just reached his breaking point. I tried to reach him when you got better, but he just disappeared."
"So your saying I'm going to die?"
"No honey, the older you get the stronger your body becomes. There are three types of blood and yours, and it's something like the 'O' blood type. It can be used in cases the other two types need a transfusion. Look, I don't understand it all, but when you are eighteen, they want you for a case study and also that you should be banking your blood in case you ever needed it."
This was a lot to take in all at once. At least I now know why she wouldn't let me play football. After that talk I guess I got a little paranoid. Even a shaving cut made my heart start to race. At that point I didn't even want to run cross-country but mom insisted.
"Steve, you're going to make yourself nuts worrying about it. You're in God's hands and if he wants to take you, there's nothing you or I can do about it."
So I ran. And I ran as fast as I could so God wouldn't catch me.
There was no way mom was going to be able to send me to college; we just didn't have the money. Even though my grades were good, they weren't high enough to get a scholarship. I did however get a scholarship on need, and because I never let God catch me, I got a partial track scholarship. Damn, I had just enough to get by if I was careful.
I enjoyed college life a little too much the first semester and my grades showed it. Mom never said a word, she didn't have to; I saw it on her face. I buckled down and did what I should have from the start. The competition was a lot harder than in high school and instead of having thirty-five kids in my class I had a hundred and thirty five; but I stuck with it.
"Now that's what I like to see," she said as she looked at my next set of grades. A 3.5 G.P.A. this semester was good, but I needed to work even harder because of the 2.0 I had my first semester. So the first year and a half went.
When I came home for the Christmas break my mother took me to the research clinic.
"Mr. Kemp, we're happy you could come," the director told us. "Why don't I give you a tour and then we can sit down and talk."
The room was white, stainless steel and sterile. Everyone wore lab coats and no one smiled it seemed.
"Well, what do you think?"
"About what?" I asked a little confused.
"About our facility and joining our research program."
"I'm not sure I want to be your guinea pig," I told him. "I don't like needles much and having everyone hovering over me would probably drive me nuts," I said trying to nice.
"No problem, but I would suggest that you put away a pint say every other or third month for a while. If you ever needed surgery, having your own blood is a real advantage. That's the same thing I tell the other two."
"You mean you've got others here?"
"There are two others that are in the program. They come in every six months for a checkup and we run a few tests. It's free of charge and they are well compensated for their time. Linda lives here in New York and Richie is currently going to school in Chicago but lives in India. If you want to meet them they'll be here tomorrow."
"Maybe I'll come back tomorrow, what time exactly?"
"Steve, why don't you come in say about 11:30. They'll be done with their tests by then and you'll have plenty of time to talk to them."
I guess I wasn't the only freak.
They were having lunch when I arrived. Richie was about twenty-four and very frail but Linda looked good for a female freak, in fact she looked almost hot. Introductions out of the way, we got down to brass tacks.
"You join up yet?" Richie asked.
"Not yet, I'm considering my options," I replied.
"Well, it's a good deal but I'm done after this year. I'm going home to get married and live a normal life, what ever that is," he said with a laugh.
"How about you Linda?" I asked.
"I don't do it for the money, I just want to make sure I stay healthy. I've never been sick and I want to stay that way," she said looking at Richie.
"I'd love to stick her with my needle," I thought burning holes in her clothes with my eyes.
"Steve, if you stare at my breasts any harder your going to strain your eyes," she said smiling. "But thanks for the compliment anyway."
I mumbled something as we all started now to laugh.
"All right, I'm a guy and you are very good looking," I finally said gaining my composure.
I joined, how could I not. I'd all ready made an ass out of myself and it would at least give me a chance to get to know Linda better; and we did have something in common.
I saw Linda on and off over the next two years. We even started casual dating. During Christmas break during my second year in the program we went out almost every night. On the third night, while walking her back to her house, I gave her more than a peck on the lips. There was a little tongue and she about broke my back when she grabbed me.
"Steve, I'm not a damn China Doll. I'm not going to break if you hold me, kiss me and throw me down on the bed for Christ's sakes. You have a choice, we can play tongue tag on the front steps of my house, while my dad watches, or we can go somewhere a lot more private.