Chapter 1: Success

Samuel sat on his aged couch, nursing a well-deserved bottle of beer, and contemplated what it meant to finally finish what would be considered his life’s work. At forty years of age, his life was by no means over. Plenty of time, he thought, to enjoy the fruits of his labor. When he cracked it, when everything fell into place and the machine worked, he felt that perhaps it had been too easy. At his age, working with a modest grant from the University where he taught graduate Physics courses, in his old, musty basement, he had invented a machine that would change the world.

What a horribly mundane place to make a discovery so big, he mused, reflecting on what he would consider the less illustrious first half of his life. This couch, which he has carted around since college, was raggedy with age and use, its former black terry cloth vibrancy dulled to gray. His work station on the far end, on which the finished machine sat, facing the section of the basement he had considered the “Test Area”. His work computer, scattered tools and assorted nuts and bolts littered the table, desk and floor. Long ago he had designated that half of the basement as “work” and this end, which featured the couch, flat-screen television, video game system and cozy rug as “play”.

He tried to imagine the reaction of his family, but found he couldn’t. He had spent so much time either teaching, giving speeches on the physics circuit, or down here working on the machine that he had lost touch with them. Sure, he saw them for dinners, the occasional family outing, but he didn’t know them.

His eldest daughter, Alice, at nineteen years of age was in college, following in her father’s footsteps, earning a degree in physics. He figured he should be proud of that, but he had never really given it more than a passing consideration; he was always so consumed by his work, so driven to make his ideas work, that his entire focus was on this design, or that laser, or whatever other component of his machine needed perfected. She was also the child who most resembled him, with long blond hair and cool blue eyes, as well as more than a little height: she was a long-legged five foot ten.

Then there was his only son, Carson, who at seventeen could not be more unknowable to his father. Foregoing the pursuits of the mind that drove his father and older sister, Carson was instead an up and coming football star at his High School, transitioning into his senior year. Popular and athletic, he could not be more opposite his father in terms of personality. Samuel found he didn’t resent this in his son; he just didn’t understand him. This made him less motivated to get to know him. Sure, he could be proud of his son’s accomplishments, but it was a fleeting feeling, paling before his passion for the project that had finally been finished today.

Finally, there was his youngest daughter, Faith, who at sixteen, followed in her mother’s footsteps as a consummate dancer and performer. She even resembled her mother, inheriting the straight black hair, the intense hazel eyes, and lithe and graceful figure. It was no surprise to anyone that knew her that she had become a star cheerleader in high school, and popular, like her brother. She was immensely likable, a social butterfly who was considerate and caring to those around her. Of course, he decided, it makes sense: just like her mother. And just like her mother, she was prone to fits of drama. Especially regarding her new best friend, Kyra.

His wife had spoke to him often about the problems with Kyra. She had convinced Faith to sneak out of the house in the middle of the night more than once. Samuel wasn’t worried, it was typical teenager stuff and Faith was just that, a teenager. He had even met Kyra once or twice; she seemed a nice enough girl. Lena, his wife, was prone to being over-protective. It was too bad that she was out of town on business this weekend, of all weekends; it would have been nice to share this with her first.

Finishing the last of his beer, Samuel considered for a moment who he should reveal the machine to first. It struck him that there were a couple of his colleagues, friends of his from college, who never believed he would even get the project off the ground, let alone actually build a working prototype. Yes, he thought, that would be where he began. Sam was anxious to share his machine with the world, but a private demonstration to these men who believed they were his peers, who never believed in his theories, would be the sweetest victory.

He pulled out his phone and checked the time: seven o’clock on a Friday morning. He didn’t have any classes to teach today; it was the summer term, and he only had to teach classes on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons. He allowed himself a grin in anticipation of the look on Fred and Eric’s faces when they realized that they had misjudged him all this time. To finally come out on top, to finally be recognized for his genius and determination…it was what he has fought for this entire time. Well that, he reasoned, and to change the world. Oh, and immortality, for changing the world. That would be nice.

Continuing to grin in silent celebration, Samuel walked up the stairs from the basement, emerging immediately into the kitchen. The bright white linoleum coupled with the dark cherry wood of the cupboards with matching cherry kitchen table, and the state-of-the-art stainless steel appliances all spoke of a family decidedly at the upper threshold of middle class. Looking down at his empty beer bottle, he thought he might be considered an alcoholic for drinking so early in the morning. He had been working non-stop on his machine since he arrived home yesterday afternoon, and only when he had completed his efforts and finally ran a successful test had he grabbed a cold one in victory.

Quickly depositing the bottle into the steel garbage can, he reached into his pocket for his cell phone. He found Fredrick in his directory first, pressed “send” and lifted the phone to his ear; It rung only once before Frederick picked up.

“Hey Fred. How’s things?” asked Samuel.

“Hell, Sam, it’s early and I didn’t have to teach today. But you knew that,” Replied a groggy and irritated sounding Fred. “I hope this is something damn important.”

“Might just blow your mind, Fred. I got it to work.”

“Got what to work? What the hell…wait, you don’t mean-“

“You’re damn right I mean. Tested it three times, and each time, it was perfect.”

Samuel couldn’t help but allow a bragging tone enter his voice. He had waited for

years to make this phone call.

“But like I told you, and Eric backed me up on this, it is impossible. You just can’t do it! This must be a joke. You must be fucking with me here.”

“I’m serious. And here, you don’t even have to take my word for it. Come check it out yourself. I’m going to call Eric and give him the same offer.”

“What, today? But I…”

“You said yourself that you don’t have any classes to teach today. And listen man, I’ve done it! How could you pass up the opportunity to see what it can do before anyone else? We’ve been colleagues and friends for a long time, you know.”

The passion in Samuel’s voice, the earnest outpouring of emotion cemented the idea that this was not a joke, but in fact, the truth. Fred realized that this was big, the biggest thing to happen in physics, in science for a hundred years. No way, he thought, no way am I missing a chance to see it for myself.

“Aright,” Fred ceded, “When do you want me over for this demonstration?”

“How about noon? I think that Eric is teaching a class this morning, but if he is, it is his only one today. He’ll be able to get here about then.”

“I’ll be there.” Said Fred as he hung up the phone.

Samuel brought his phone down, quickly punching in a text to Eric that simply said, “Machine works. Yes, that machine. Come to my house at noon for demonstration.”

Closing his phone, Samuel walked from the kitchen into the adjoining living room, the spacious hardwood center of relaxation for the rest of the family. Normally content to relax on his couch downstairs, Samuel instead chose to lie on the black suede sectional couch that ran along the wall at the front of the house. He thought he would just take a short nap, and be woken at the sound of his colleagues knocking on the door.

He began to nod off, the beer working on his muscles. He remembered his last talk with his wife, as she left yesterday evening. As was typical, he was in his lab, working on what he knew would be the last component of his machine. She had come down the basement stairs, stopping at the bottom, and had said something that may have been “I’m leaving for the airport.”

Not truly paying attention, the sudden noise caused Sam to accidentally cut his finger on a sharp piece of refracting crystal. He then let out a long string of colorful curses as he sucked the cut on his finger.

“Is that anyway to bid your wife farewell? Wouldn’t your face be red, if those were your last words to me.”

Lena walked over to him from the bottom of the stairs, playfulness and worry mingling on her beautiful face. Looking at her now as he blinked away fatigue and tried to process his wife’s words, it struck him how fortunate he was. She was beautiful, kind, and most of all, understanding. She knew before she married him that he was obsessed with his work, obsessed with making his mark in the scientific community. She had put up with years of lonely nights as he worked in his lab, or went away to conferences. She had seen to the emotional needs of their children, involved with their everyday lives as he spent the majority of his time teaching and researching. Not once had she called him out and demanded he change, because she understood he wouldn’t, not for anything or anyone. He was addicted.

Sure I appreciate her, he thought. And now that the machine was almost finished, he knew he would really be able to show her how much she meant to him.

“Well I’m leaving for a few days. You going to be ok?” She spoke with earnest concern, aware that occasionally he forgot to feed himself when he got wrapped up in his work.

“Oh, well, yeah honey. I’ll be fine. I have a feeling things are going to start looking up.” He paused for a moment as he delved deep to recover some of his lost social skills. “So…where are you going, again?” He asked, feeling ridiculous to be asking what to any other husband would be chewed out for asking.

“A three-day seminar in Seattle. Apparently, we’re going to learn a new filing system for our records. I just hope I don’t die of excitement.” Lena smiled as she shifted to give Sam a kiss on his cheek. “Can you do me a favor? Can you make sure our kids don’t starve to death, or kill each other? Just check in on them a couple times a day, whenever you find time.”

“You got it. Be safe, ok?” Sam looked up, masking his anxiety behind a confidant façade. If she hadn’t been required to leave this weekend of all weekends, when he knew he was so close to completion, he would have shared his accomplishment with her first. She would finally know the fruit of his labors, and know that every time she had to go to bed alone, or take care of the kids with little to no help from him, that it was all worth it. But she was heading out of the door, doing what she loved. Although she was only a secretary for small medical practice, she really relished in her job; she often told him how she felt she was making a difference, however indirectly. No, he thought, he won’t take this away from her now. When she returned he would be ready to unveil the machine to the world, and she could decide then whether or not she wanted to continue to work as a billionaire.

She nodded, smiling as she turned to walk up the basement stairs. “Don’t let our children run you ragged. They’re terrors.” She spoke this final bit of advice as she ascended the stairs, and was then gone.

Samuel was very nearly asleep at the end of this recollection when he felt a sharp tug on his shoulder that quickly turned into a violent shaking. His blissful state shattered, his eyes snapped open, and he was ready to confront and angrily chastise whichever of his children it was that chose this moment to rouse him. His anger caught in his throat, however, when he realized it was he wasn’t staring into the face of any of his progeny, but instead into the striking face of his youngest daughter’s friend, Kyra.

Having met her a couple times before, he was aware that she was a young beauty: Dirty blond hair that fell just past her shoulders, vibrant green eyes, and a wide, bright white smile. Like his daughter, she was a cheerleader, so she was in great shape. Her young shapely body was covered only in a bright teal tank top and short sleeping shorts, her feet bare with blue painted toes. She must have spent the night, Sam thought, it was the only way that she should be here this early wearing that little.

The disapproval of her actions and her clothing choice flashed across his face for a moment, then faded quickly. The last thing he wanted to do was make this young girl uncomfortable. All he said was “What is it?”

“Oh, hey Mr. Milano. I think…you might be sleeping on my purse.” She asked the question timidly, apparently afraid that she would be reprimanded in some way for awakening him. Simultaneously, she was bent over his form, her urgency coming through in a more passive way.

            “Well, I must have been so tired that I didn’t notice…” Sam lifted himself up to a sitting position, looking down at the couch where he had just been resting. Sure enough, her purse lie wedged in-between the back of the couch and a seat cushion. Lifting it out, he offered it to her. “Sorry bout that.”

            She took the offered purse and giggled, immediately beginning to search through its contents as she began to walk back toward the staircase that led upstairs. “I’m so sorry for waking you up Mr. Milano, its just I needed to call my Mom to let her know I was staying over here today and she sometimes gets worried, you know, parent stuff.”

            “No problem. Are you getting picked up soon or…” Sam inquired, hope creeping into his voice. He didn’t want strangers in the house when he gave his demonstration.

            “Oh, no, no. Faith and I are just gonna hang out all day, like usual. That’s ok, right? I mean, Mrs. Milano said it would be cool before she left, and…” Kyra’s green eyes grew wide, a look that could almost be considered pleading played across her face.

            “Well, yes, if she said it was ok. Just stay out of the basement, ok? Faith knows.” Samuel relented, not wanting to overrule his wife in this matter. Plus, Faith would likely hold it against him, and he didn’t need anything else working against him on that end. He hadn’t been the best father, and arbitrarily deciding her friend must leave wouldn’t go over well.

            “Ok, cool. Thanks.” Kyra said, then turned and dashed up the stairs to his daughters’ room.

            Sighing as his fatigue became too much to bear, Sam fell backwards into the couch, silently praying that his sleep would be uninterrupted until his colleagues arrived at noon. He was asleep the moment his head touched the couch.