Aftermath
Under Freja’s direction Lina, Dona, Ella, and Tom moved to a private sitting room to await news of the test. Once in the room, the electronic lock clicked preventing them from exiting the room casting the institute in a much more sinister light. There was naught to do but wait. Dona paced back and forth like a caged jungle cat. Minutes stretched to hours. Fortunately, there was a washroom attached to the sitting room. By the time Dr. Holmstrom eventually arrived, she appeared worn, a weak smile on her weary looking face. Disengaging the door lock, she stepped into the room and took up a seat at the table with the other women. Tom was on the table.
“Well?” Dona challenged, irritation mingled with concern in her abrupt tone.
Letting out a breath, Dr. Holmstrom held up her hands, “I won’t dance around it. Dr. Wentworth survived the restoration process but right now is on artificial life support,” she said bluntly.
“What does that mean?” demanded Dona, seizing the doctor by the wrist.
Looking down at the hand squeezing her, Helena shook her head, “It means he is only alive because the machines are keeping him alive,” she explained.
“How, I mean, not how is the machine keeping him alive, how did he wind up in this condition?” mumbled Dona, struggling to understand the situation.
“It would appear the macro-reconfiguration of his cellular structure placed too much strain on his heart. Whether this was endemic to the procedure or a complication that manifested itself as a result of his age or previous duration of being miniaturized, I honestly don’t know,” she shared.
“You think it could be because of how old he is?” Ella inquired.
Dr. Holmstrom nodded slowly, “Possibly. Like I said, this outcome may have been influenced by multiple factors, age being one of them,” she shared.
“I want to try it,” Tom said, nodding once.
“What did you say?” Ella queried, not sure she had heard her son correctly.
Looking up at his mother from his spot on the table, “I said I want to try the procedure,” he repeated, spreading his apart.
“No,” she declared, “I forbid it.”
“I have to agree with your mother Tom, it’s far too risky,” Lina chimed in.
“I’m young, my heart is fine and I haven’t been shrunk nearly as long as grandfather,” he argued.
“And have you wind up on life support or worse? No,” Ella stated emphatically.
Dr. Holmstron held up her hands, “We’re running a series of diagnostics and are reviewing the data to try and gain a better understanding of the results. I think moving forward right now without a more comprehensive evaluation of the procedure elevates the risk beyond acceptable parameters,” she qualified.
“I want to see him,” Dona asserted.
Turning to the Donatella, “I appreciate your concern for Dr. Wentworth, I’ll make the necessary arrangements,” she assured.
“I want to do it,” Tom said again.
“No,” Ella replied, raising a finger to forestall any challenge he might make.
“For now the safety lockdown on the facility has been lifted and for the moment I ask only for your patience,” Dr. Holmstrom requested before turning back to Tom’s aunt. “If you would follow me I’ll will escort you to Dr. Wentworth,” she invited.
Pacing back and forth across the top of the table as Dona departed with the doctor, Tom paused, looking up at his mother and shaking his head.
“I will not hear it Thomas,” she asserted.
“Hear what? That I am willing to gamble my life in order not to be forever stuck as a real life Tom Thumb? Or, that we knew the risks going in?” he protested.
“You are still my child,” she replied.
“And yet I’m no bigger than your thumb,” he retorted, pointing at her right hand.
“That does not change my love for you or my need to protect my baby boy,” Ella answered, voice softening.
Staring up at her, a determined cast on his face. What could he do? What possible argument could he make to get her to allow the procedure? Right now, he couldn’t even get himself off the table.
“Let the doctor do what she needs to do to improve your odds of success, then we will see the procedure through,” she offered.
“Again I think your mother’s point is not only correct, it’s the only course of action,” Lina adde4d, supporting Ella’s argument.
Tom glanced up at Janine’s mother, chuckling sardonically, “Sure, why not? It’s not like I have any goddamn choice right?” he chirped, turning away from the two women.
“Do not be rude,” chastised Ella.
“It’s okay,” Lina said softly. “Tom, listen, we know you are going through an awful lot right now. With the recent and unexpected failure of both your grandfather’s machine and the setback here at the institute, we get it, we understand,” she empathized.
Half grin on his face, “You understand? That’s great,” he replied, nodding his head.
“Yes you are small and now that the novelty and fun have run their course, you want to be fixed. Yes, we get that, but do not for a moment think you are in this alone or the only one affected by your condition. Your sister, your friends, your family, all of us want to see you returned to yourself. Now, you can stomp around and mope like a pouty child, or you can behave like an adult. This choice is yours,” she presented, leaning back in her chair, folding her arms across her chest.
Eyes on his mother, he knew she was right. He was behaving like a truculent child and her assumption of the source of his petulance was spot on. The fun was over. Freja had been a wonderful diversion from the sterile confines of the institute, but it wasn’t the same. Sighing heavily, he nodded slowly, “I apologize,” he said, contrition genuine.
A smile blossomed on Ella face as she leaned forward and put her hands on the table, “Ti amo così tanto, mio r03;r03;figlio,” she whispered.
Smiling weakly, “If it’s alright, could I please have some time to myself just to sort things out?” he asked.
“Here?” Ella inquired.
“No, just in one of the residential rooms,” he replied.
The compassionate expression on Lina’s face never changed, though the gears in her head started to turn. Was his whole act just his way of saying what he really wanted was one last chance to spend some private time with her?