The Marmalade Cure

Mathias

I pulled my jacket over my black Tee. It was hot outside but my jacket somehow gave me confidence.

I brushed back my hair. It was almost touching my shoulders now. This made me happy. Growing up, dad would take it as a personal insult if any of his boys grew long hair. So the moment, I moved out on my own, the first thing I did was let my hair grow freely. It was a sign of my freedom, my independence.

I was happy today. So so happy. The project I was working on was coming on beautifully. It could work. It had to work.

My name is Mathias. I am your average 22 year old. I used to be someone you wouldn't spare a second glance to.

Now? Now I am unstoppable and unresistable. It wasn't easy, but I did it. It took a lot of work.

Appearances matter. It's not money, it's the aura you exude that entrances people. It's what makes them want to follow you around.

I found my confidence through my work and I changed the way I look to become different. I wear all black not because I am a goth. But because it makes people wonder. It makes them stop to think and that pause is all you need to evaluate them.

If you met me on a street you would probably think I am a bad boy, a rebel. Most probably you would fear me until you looked at my face and then you would be confused by my friendly, approachable smile.

Confused? Good? Now your thoughts will be occupied with me.

Maybe its a bit narcissistic: I am what I am . And if you knew the reason I consider myself to be important, you will agree with me.

I am curing cancers and tumours.

Or at least I will when I complete my research.

The Cure.

----------

I was born in a middle class family. My mother was a stay at home wife. My father a physical therapist for the local football team.

I am the youngest of three brothers.

You would think I would be the baby of the family. Nope.

I was the lab rat for my father's life experiments. No. I was the punching bag for my father's frustrations.

My poor timid mother couldn't raise a single voice for my defence.

My father never touched us. It was the emotional abuse and constant taunts that hurt us. Strict rules had to be followed in the name of discipline.

My elder brothers were also subjected to the same treatment.

We weren't allowed to go out. We had to have perfect report cards. We must be excellent at sports. We must always do what our father wanted. These, to be honest, never bothered me.

What did irk me the most was even if we did all these things, there was never any appreciation. I wasn't allowed to grow out my hair.I was constantly reminded of my lanky built. And my talents were never appreciated. I loved to create. I secretly kept a journal with all my ideas jotted down in it and my father mercilessly trashed it, qouoting: Imagination is a killer of reality.

Don't get me wrong. I was never a victim of self pity. I knew what I had to do while I was in my teens. I had to get out. And to do that: I just had to create something.

So I did. I created a medicine so powerful that my life was immediately turned around.

At 18, I presented my idea and I was inducted in a team of powerful and genius professionals. But, it took me mere months to establish my role as the leader. Despite everything my research was kept a secret. I was okay with it. For now.

By 22, I was able to support myself enough to get a separate place.

I live peacefully but my brothers are still stuck in that life. I wanted them to move with me but they weren't bold enough to make the move.

My dad doesn't like me. And on surface I pretend its OK. Deep down though, its killing me.

Not for long though. This Cure. This magnificent cure will save me.

Once I am famous, I know my dad will forgive me.

-----------

I am on my way to the lab right now. Today is an important day.

Today I will test the cure on a test culture to see if it works.

I'm excited. I'm nervous. But I'm also confident.

It has to work.

The lab is situated on the outskirts of the city. It's a nice, quiet place. Privately owned by Dr. Din.

Dr. Din was the one who saved me. He encouraged me to continue my work and offered his lab and funds. His reasons aren't that pure either.

First off, the money that he can make off of me is pretty lucrative. Second, he spent good half of his life trying to find the cure for tumors himself but was unsuccessful. So, naturally when I proposed my idea, he immediately welcomed me.

I sing a rythmless tune as I get off my bike and jog towards the main building. The reception is empty.

Hmmm. Karla must be off binge watching her tv shows again in the bathroom. No entertainment allowed in the lab.

I change my clothes in the dressing room and as I'm putting on my lab coat, Dr. Din's assistant, Lenny, hurries inside and asks if I'm ready.

I swallow.

"Yes. I am ready"

I never use slang at work. Slang demeans you. To earn respect you need to work.

I follow Lenny to the main lab. Dr. Din looks at me with both pride and apprehension.

I take a deep breath, maintain eye contact and smile.

I am so fake.

And then I start the work. It's hectic. It's meticulous. But, at the end of the day, it's what makes me happy.

All the team has assembled today. We want to see what our 5 years worth of effort has resulted into. We want to be triumphant.

Suddenly, I'm feeling the pressure.

What happens if I don't succeed?

------------

Two hours later, all the tedious preparations have been made. Now, I'm ready to do the test. It's a pretty straightforward procedure.

A whole setup has been established. I only have to introduce my cure to the test strain having properties of the malignant tumors.

My cure must work in 24 hours.

I promised myself that.

Dr. Din is anxious. I know he is dying to do the test himself. But he restrains himself. He must. He can't afford to make me unhappy. The consequences are too big for him.

They are humongous for me.

I walk forward, open the locked, high security vault at the back of the lab and bring out the jar containing the cure.

My pride. My love.

It's sitting there looking so beautiful. My blue rubber gloves contrast magnificently with the striking orange strand of the cure. The orange color after which they were named as the Marmalade cure. The strands are long and thin. Almost like orange peel but double in length. They are majestic.

There is pin drop silence in the room. Every eye is on this jar as I bring it back to my work station.

Today will be our salvation or it could be our destruction.

Taking a deep breath again, I take off the lid, and insert a tweezer to pluck out one gorgeous strand. Carefully, I introduce the strand to the test strain in the controlled environment.

There is sweat on my forhead, but I keep my hands steady. As soon as the cure touches the strain, I hold my breath and watch as nothing happens for a moment. My heart sinks.

Suddenly the strain comes to life and begins to consume the cure. I gasp and let go of the the other end of the strand, and watch in utter horror and amazement, as the marmalde strand is engulfed by the tumour. The others are gasping. There are whispers. In an instant the tumour swells in size by almost thrice its original width.

I raise my eyes and meet the stare of the doctor.

What have we done.

---------------

The doctor took me aside and looked at me with calculating eyes.

Why isn't he worried??!! Why isn't he screaming at me?

"Son, you look absolutely ashen. Calm down"

What?

" Sir...you..we..." I can't stop my stammering.

"Sir.." I try again.

"We have failed!!" I am wailing.

"I couldn't do it. I am a failure"

The doctor smiled.

"Welcome to the world of science" He says with a flourish.

I gape at him. " Sir my cure just strengthened the tumour. What if someone finds this out. I am done. All our funds!" I can't seem to make him understand.

"Kid. What do you think I've been doing for all these years? Surely you didn't expect to succeed at the initial attempts did you? So what? This time it didn't work. But you are forgetting: Our observation period isn't over yet. Wait for the next few days and then we will analyze and do more tests."

The doctoe pats me on the shoulder and leaves.

Huh! He might be right. I have to wait.

------------

On my way home, I keep praying that the cure works.

Having dinner is out of the question. Stress makes me lose my appetite.

I keep obsessing over today's failure.

Uff.

The rest of the night, I toss and turn. I pace. I fidget. The one thing I don't do is sleep.

I had to stop myself more than once from trying to call Lenny. He is staying overnight today and is on observation duties.

No need to show people that I have lost control over my emotions. I did more than enough of that at the lab today.

-------

The morning couldn't come quickly enough.

As the sunlight filtered through the blue net curtains, I get up and race towards my bike without even bothering to change.

I hurry towards the lab.

This time the receptionist is sitting there. She nods at me. I don't even bother to acknowledge as I rush towards the main lab. But I don't eveng et the chance to enter. Dr. Din steps in front of me. I skid to a stop.

"Mathias" He says. "Go Home"

"I have to see.."

"There is nothing to see. No development. You must go home" He cuts me off.

There is no way I am leaving. I try to push past him and am met with his furious glare. That freezes me to the spot. The doctor is a jovial man. Rarely does he bring out his temper and even rarer is to see him glare. But he is serious now.

I swallow, nod and turn around.

You simply didn't argue in the face of that stare.

I grudgingly make my way back home.

Then I decide to have my breakfast in a roadside cafe.

Chewing on my extra crispy toast, I try to get out of my gloomy state of mind. What do I do to pass the time? What if the cure doesn't work? What will become of my life? Will I have to move back with my parents?

No. Never.

"Ugh" I complain loudly. I'm not in the mood to contain my emotions. I don't care what anyone thinks.

I drag my feet as I walk outside and then I get an idea. I should pay my uncle Jay a visit. I haven't seen him for a couple of months.

Uncle Jay is my father's ex best friend. They had a huge fight a couple of years ago. But uncle Jay still welcomes me and my brothers to his house as a family.

Jay is a simple man with two not-so-simple kids. His younger daughter is a really good friend of mine. Her heated debates usually provide for an excellent source of distraction. I hope she's home today.