The Book of Adam: Autobiography of the First Human Clone

  True to our word, we kept Lyle-2 out of Lily’s life. When Evelyn and I attended the centennial of the premiere of To Kill a Mockingbird with Jack and his wife Joy, we left Cain and Lily with their grandparents.

  When someone started singing the opening line to “Blue Christmas” from behind us, Evelyn screamed and swooned as she turned to face our old Elvis impersonator, making us quite a spectacle. I shrugged awkwardly to a couple indignant faces.

  We hugged Jack and his wife, wishing each other Merry Christmas. It was December 25, 1962 that the film first premiered in Los Angeles, although it didn’t really go out to theatres until 1963 after its Valentine’s Day premiere at Radio City Music Hall. It was Gregory Peck’s most memorable role, and as Mr. Peck was also one of the founders of the La Jolla Playhouse, the Playhouse was holding a special screening for the film’s 100th anniversary. The courtyard was nostalgic territory for us, as was the film.

  “So you guys remember when we saw this in Mrs. Slater’s class?” Jack asked, not giving us any indication that she was standing behind us.

  Evelyn and I winked at each other. “We do,” I said. “It was our first movie date.”

  “Oh, really?” Mrs. Slater asked.

  We turned and excitedly started another round of hugs as we greeted our teacher who we hadn’t seen since our wedding three years before.

  “You know,” she said to me, “it was your mom who suggested we show the class that movie.”

  I laughed at the memory of Mom’s “I know” responses to what I’d done that day in school. “So you must have also been telling her about my crush on Evelyn.”

  Mrs. Slater nodded. “We were setting you guys up after the first day of school.”

  Evelyn gasped. “Of all the devious…”

  “An arranged marriage?” I asked my wife.

  She fixed me with an expression that would freeze lightning. “You saying you want a divorce?”

  I jumped and turned to Jack for aid, but he waved me off.

  “No ma’am,” I said.

  She smiled coyly and gave me a kiss.

  “No ma’am,” I said again.

  She gave me another kiss, interrupted by the others who had had enough, and we began filing into the theatre. Which was when Mrs. Slater first saw Evelyn’s old backpack.

  “Hey,” she said, tugging on the pack and glancing at it when Evelyn turned around.

  Evelyn began to go on about it being cheaper than buying purses. Mrs. Slater cut her off with a long hug. They both smiled shakily but thankfully afterwards, though I think I may have been more moved by it than either of them. It was beautiful to see someone being as inspired by Evelyn as I was.

  A couple minutes later we were taking our seats. As before, I made sure I was sitting next to Evelyn. And when I saw her first start to cry, I whipped out my ready Kleenex. She smiled and plucked it from my fingers. We passed it back and forth during the movie, and at the end I stuffed it back in my pocket while Evelyn gave me a grinning “that’s gross” look.

  We had such a great time that we traveled out to the Radio City Music Hall for the centennial celebration of the film’s “real” premiere on February 14, 2063. A date that also corresponded to the 60th anniversary of Dolly’s death. And would also correspond with the first full night that we’d been alone since the birth of Cain.

  Bernadette Peters-2 had a key to our Bohemian apartment, and she was only too happy to help. Red roses guided us from the front door to a circle on the floor. The opening of the door triggered the playing of our wedding hologram beginning with our first dance to Barbra Streisand’s Evergreen.

  “How did you do this?” Evelyn whispered.

  I wordlessly asked for her hand, and she put hers in mind. I led her to the circle of roses where our two holograms had already started to dance. We got inside them as best we could, mimicking our movements from three-and-a-half years ago.

  To a point. Before the end of the song, she kissed me, and I kissed her. We collapsed on the floor, making love as our holograms danced through us.

  Table of Contents

  44

  2063 was also the year that Lyle-2 left the house of Aunt Louise. He used his enhanced intelligence to breeze through high school a year early and got accepted on full scholarship to MIT in Cambridge, Massachusetts where he would major in biotechnology and artificial intelligence. He left Aunt Louise’s house in August, which was a relief to all of us, and allowed Aunt Louise to see Lily and Cain far more often than before.

  The first time I took them to see Aunt Louise’s house was for Lily’s third birthday. I remember the wide eyes Cain and Lily had as they picked their way through Aunt Louise’s glass garden.

  “These plants are made of glass,” Cain said as he paused to touch some edelweiss.

  Lily ducked under the fronds of a fragile tree fern. “They’re pretty.”

  Louise gasped at the close call, and then said, “Thank you, dearie.”

  But it wasn’t long before Aunt Louise and her pets made them feel at ease. Within thirty minutes she had taught them how to play Old Maid. When we left them, Cain was using one hand to hold his cards and one to rub Pierre’s belly, and Blue was sitting in Lily’s lap purring away.

  “Have you heard from Lyle since he left?” Evelyn asked.

  Louise shook her head. “No. But he hasn’t talked much since Lily died.”

  I fingered some of the things in Lily’s old room. This was going to be the first time that Lily-3 saw her clone-mother’s bedroom. Aunt Louise had left it almost untouched during the four years since Lily-2’s death. Glass lilies dotted the bookshelves and corners of the room. There were framed photos of Lily and me in Edinburgh and at the cabin the weekend we consummated our relationship, and a picture from Lily-1 and Adam-1’s marriage, as well as one of me sitting on Grandma Lily’s lap as a baby, and a picture of Lily-2 on Aunt Louise’s lap shortly after we moved in with her. There weren’t any photos of Lyle or Sarah.

  “Do you want to give her the locket?” Aunt Louise asked.

  I hadn’t noticed it till she asked. Aunt Louise had placed it atop Lily-2’s birthday letter to her clone, both of them lying on Lily’s white desk.

  “Do you think it’s a good idea?” I asked.

  Evelyn came over to see the locket. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, showing her all this stuff. She’s so young. She won’t understand that her clone-mother was…you know…” I searched for the words, “with me at one time, and that her c-grandmother was with my c-father. It’ll be confusing.”

  It even sounded confusing. People never had to worry about such things before I was born.

  “I think it’ll be okay,” Evelyn said as she picked up the locket and examined the photos and the antique gold design. “Lily-2 was already writing about it in her first two birthday letters to Lily-3, and I’m sure she’ll be reading all about it in all future letters. Talking about it now will help her understand it better. At her age, she’ll just see you as old friends from her past, and that’s a good thing.” She turned to Louise, holding up the locket. “This is really beautiful.”

  Aunt Louise nodded. “Yes, it was my mother’s. My brother gave it to his wife as a wedding present, and then he gave it to Adam-1 so he could give it to Lily as a wedding gift.”

  Evelyn asked Louise a question I’d often wondered about. “How did she die?”

  “Lily-1’s mother?”

  Evelyn nodded.

  “Katie died in a boating accident. They were sailing off of Madagascar, and she fell overboard without a life vest. Lyle couldn’t find her.” Louise frowned. “She was nice.”

  I picked up the picture of Lily-2 on Aunt Louise’s lap. “Lily once said her mother had drowned herself.”

  Louise shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  There was silence. Evelyn broke it.

  “Did you get along with your brother?”

  “No,” Louise said. Evelyn let out a burst of laughter for which sh
e was instantly embarrassed. Aunt Louise just smiled. “But he took care of me. I never had to work. He let me make my garden and have my pets and live my life as I wished. I’m grateful for that.”

  “So when he needed you,” Evelyn said, “you took care of him.”

  Aunt Louise nodded, her eyes staring off unfocused on memories we couldn’t see. “Yes. Not very well, I guess.”

  Evelyn put the locket back down and gave Aunt Louise a hug. “Please don’t think that. You were wonderful.”

  “You could have died,” she said, muffled against Evelyn’s shoulder. “Your baby died.”

  “No,” Evelyn held her tighter. “No.”

  Evelyn’s teary eyes looked imploringly to me over Aunt Louise’s shoulder. Before I could say anything, or before I could think of anything to say, there was a soft knock on the bedroom door. We all turned to see Lily-3 peering into the room.

  “Come in, birthday girl,” I said as I set the picture down and Evelyn and Louise regained their composure.

  Lily had a sparkle in her eye that I’d seen many times before. “Is it time for presents?”

  It was. They included a brown, floppy stuffed doggy from Cain, a new glass lily from Aunt Louise, a ceramic unicorn from Aunt Evelyn, and a collection of Disney tunes from an Uncle Adam who decided that the locket would wait.

  As was tradition, the presents from the c-parent came last. Lily, clutching the stuffed doggy from Cain, sat on Evelyn’s lap for the reading of Lily-2’s birthday letter:

  Happy Birthday, sweetie. Your c-mommy loves you so much. I wish I could be there to hug you and love you and protect you. Something’s happened, and I can’t. But I can be there a little. Ask someone to play this disk, and you’ll see me soon.

  Love

  Evelyn helped Lily look back in the envelope, and they saw the disk taped to the side. Lily inhaled excitedly and turned smiling to Evelyn who laughed as she carefully peeled off the holodisk. After easing Lily off her lap, she inserted the disk into Lily-2’s old holoplayer. A couple seconds later, Lily-2 was with us again.

  She looked happy, wearing a dress I’d bought for her nineteenth birthday, her engagement ring on. I was fairly sure she’d taped it before we saw Farewell Dolly. Lily-2 was sitting down, and her hologram reached out blindly for her three-year-old clone-child. I placed her desk chair where the hologram was sitting, and Evelyn sat Lily-3 in her clone-mother’s lap. We found her sitting deep within Lily-2’s thighs, so Evelyn lifted her up while I placed a throw pillow on the chair, making the illusion appear more accurate. Lily-3 gazed up at her holographic clone-mother in wide-eyed wonder and giggled when her c-mother’s arms hugged her.

  “That’s better!” Lily-2 said. “This is a special birthday for us. It’s the first birthday I remembered in both our previous lives. So I want it to be memorable. Understand?”

  Lily-3 nodded. “Uh-huh.”

  “I want you to remember that I’m always going to be with you in spirit no matter what happens. In the happiest times and the saddest times. Okay?”

  Lily-3 nodded and looked at all of us to make sure we were seeing this.

  “But often you’ll need more than a hologram and a memory. Whether he’s an old man or a little boy, the one person you can always turn to is Adam Elwell.” Lily-3 turned to me, eyebrows raised, and grinned. I tried to grin back. “He’s been our best friend and protector since your clone-grandmother was a little girl. In a couple more years you’ll get a special golden locket that Adam gave you the first time we were married. We may have to die and be reborn a thousand times, but our locket will keep our souls forever tied. Adam saved us in the beginning, and he always will. If he’s there, tell him how much you love him.”

  Lily-3 did so. “I love you this much,” she calculated with at least a couple feet between her two outstretched palms.

  “I love you, too,” I said, feeling flushed.

  Lily-2 continued. “Now go enjoy your new presents and the rest of your birthday, and I’ll see you next year when you’re four.” The hologram turned slightly to face Lily’s window. “And Adam, if you’re here, thank you for still being with me. I miss you and love you.”

  The hologram smiled, frowned, and winked out.

  Lily glanced around for the disappeared hologram, and then fixed on me. “So we got married?”

  “Sort of,” I said as my palm slowly reached out to Lily-3, a golden locket curled up in its center. She caught her breath and touched the tiny pictures that looked like her c-mother and me.

  “Those are us?”

  “Well,” I said, “this is my c-father and your c-grandmother just before they got married.”

  “Where was Cain?”

  “Cain didn’t have a clone-father,” I lied.

  Lily looked at my son with great pity, then hopped down from the chair. “It’s okay, Cain.” She made her stuffed doggy kiss Cain on the cheek. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” he said.

  Lily grabbed his hand and ran with him out of the room and downstairs to play. The noise only paused briefly after we heard some glass shatter.

  “Sorry!” Cain yelled up to us, quickly followed by the universal music of children playing.

  Evelyn and I cringed. Aunt Louise took it as well as possible.

  Table of Contents

  45

  The Christmas of ’63 would be the first Christmas that Evelyn and I were able to spend at the cabin, and the first time that Cain and Lily-3 would ever see it. I think I was more excited than any of them. Although my last Christmas with Lyle-1 would always haunt me, the joyful memories were enough to muffle the sad one. Christmases with Mom, and later with Aunt Louise and Lily-2 and a young Lyle-2 when he still loved me. Stringing popcorn and decorating the tree while Christmas movies played and Christmas carols filled the cabin with their own unique warmth.

  Hanukkah ended on December 23, which we spent with Hannah and Martin, and then we planned to drive up the morning of Christmas Eve with Aunt Louise in tow. She called us on December 22.

  “Lyle has decided to come home for the holidays, and he wanted to know if he could join us at the cabin.”

  I bristled, then struggled to say no while remaining polite and respectful. “Look, Aunt Louise, I’m sorry, but I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

  “I know,” she started. I could hear the stress. “I don’t know what to do.”

  She didn’t know what to do, and I didn’t know what to say. “I hope you can still make it,” I offered, and then shook my head at how clumsy that sounded.

  “No,” she answered. “No, I think I need to be here for him. No one should be that alone.”

  Ten minutes later, Evelyn agreed.

  “What?” I asked.

  “We can keep an eye on Cain and Lily, and they can sleep in our room.” She took my hand. “Lyle won’t hurt them. And maybe it’ll help.”

  “I can’t believe this,” I said, almost pulling my hand from hers.

  “Aunt Louise shouldn’t have to do this by herself.”

  I shook my head. “He means us harm.”

  “Yes,” she said, bowing her head. “Maybe.”

  “Then why do it?”

  Her eyes rose back up to meet mine. “In case he doesn’t.”

  ***

  If those conversations were awkward, they were nothing compared to the way I felt about four o’clock Christmas Eve when I opened the cabin door for Aunt Louise and Lyle-2.

  “You made it before dark,” I noted.

  She stood there waiting to see if she was truly welcome, holding back a frantic Pierre who was pawing the wood floors in an effort to tackle me. That’s when Evelyn came in and gave Pierre a quick pet and Aunt Louise a welcoming hug. Embarrassed at my lapse, I followed Evelyn in hugging her and welcoming Pierre.

  Neither of us hugged Lyle. He stood slightly behind and hidden by Louise, scanning us both, but not making any movement toward us.

  “Merry Christmas, Lyle,” Evelyn sa
id. “Please come in and make yourself at home.”

  His feet remained put as he appraised my wife. “My c-father said you were Jewish.”

  She smiled pleasantly. “Still am,” she said. “But we stopped eating Christians centuries ago. Now we just wish ’em Merry Christmas.”

  I swear there was a wisp of a grin on his lips. “I’m an atheist.”

  “And Adam is agnostic,” she confessed into Lyle’s ear. “But Louise and Lily are Christians, so how ’bout we heretics just join in the party and the goodwill and open some presents?”

  His nod was barely perceptible, but good enough for Evelyn.

  “Cool,” she said. “You two know where your rooms are. I’m going to get the popcorn popping and needles threaded, and we’ll put you to work when you get unpacked.”

  And for a while I didn’t think there was anything Evelyn couldn’t handle.

  Unfortunately for me, she was in the kitchen as I warily introduced Lyle to Lily and Cain. We had already told the kids how they were related. Lyle nodded neutrally to Cain’s “hello.”

  Cain seemed to sense a lack of warmth but shrugged it off.

  “I’ve missed you,” Lyle told Lily as he bent down to his knees and embraced her. I stiffened, but it was innocent enough, and Lily seemed at ease and told him she hoped she’d get a unicorn for Christmas.

  That Christmas Eve proved to be one of my favorites. Evelyn convinced Lyle to thread popcorn, and he surprised me by participating in everything. He intently watched our Christmas movies that he hadn’t seen since a young child when I still lived with them, and I even caught him tapping his foot on the ground to the beat of Scrooge’s Oscar-nominated song Thank You Very Much. He thanked me gratefully for his present: an illustrated 1831 first edition of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein that had belonged to my c-father. Evelyn made him one of her family calendars. With the help of Aunt Louise, she had come across photos I’d never seen before. Lyle-1 sitting with a smiling, three-year-old Aunt Louise on his lap a year before the murder of their parents. A candid photo of Lyle-1 giving his young daughter Lily-1 a piggyback ride at Balboa Park by the old carousel. It ended in December with a photo of Lyle-2, Lily-2, and me at a Christmas in the cabin when Lyle-2 was a carefree three-year-old excited for the holiday magic to unfold.