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Overview
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781491830888 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | AuthorHouse |
| Publication date: | 12/16/2013 |
| Pages: | 246 |
| Product dimensions: | 6.00(w) x 9.00(h) x 0.56(d) |
Read an Excerpt
The Waisting Of Time
A NOVEL
By Derek Berry Thorpe
AuthorHouse
Copyright © 2013 Derek Berry ThorpeAll rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4918-3088-8
CHAPTER 1
Like a hungry child, the fire consumed the structure with voracious abandon. The flames licked the outside walls through the windows as if to taste the limestone. He looked back in anguish for only a brief second, as it was unwise to invest anymore emotion about the conflagration at that time. The sun had already set in the west, but she left a blazing reminder of her recent passage by the wretched shadows cast in the October darkness. He could feel the madness within begin to effervesce again causing him to strain taught against the chains that bound him to reason.
He was exhausted to the point of collapse as he felt his chest heave above his seared lungs. He limped on through the coarse grass, ignoring the undiluted shards of pain, towards his adversary in the distance. He was afraid. Unmistakably petrified at the recent events and also distinctly afraid of himself and the sheer lunacy of his actions.
He hit the water with a bone jarring shudder and sank into the churning bosom of the ocean. He resisted the sweet urge to inhale in an attempt to reclaim some of the air that was knocked out of him. He somehow managed an uncoordinated flailing of his limbs in his quest to reach the surface and claim the object floating on the waves. But with his eyes closed in the terror, his epileptic swim only carried him deeper into the frothy waters.... Farther away from the reason for his insanity. He finally opened his eyes and found that his world was nearly as featureless as with his lids closed. Almost as dark, except for the glowing image of the fire above. He made out the jaundiced flames snarling at the structure above and generally moved in its direction like some aquatic moth. His muscles screamed for oxygen and felt as if they were swimming in thick syrup. He tried his best to keep going but after a few seconds of eternity he realized that he would not reach the surface. He was far too tired to carry on. He stopped moving his limbs and allowed himself to feel the currents tug on his person. It was not an entirely unpleasant sensation, he thought to himself. Realizing he was going to die alone in that watery cemetery, he tried to erase from his mind the secret that was bobbing on the surface above. It would be lost forever from his greed. Lost, thankfully, from everyone's greed.
He inhaled.
CHAPTER 2The last of the orange and tan leaves were falling like snow flurries across the park. They chased each other playfully on the ground between the shrubs and roots of the old oak trees. William Sarsfield was not dressed appropriately for the extended winter weather as he walked to the lecture hall on the other side of the square. He flapped up the collar of his thin medical coat and cursed the rising crescendo of winter. He regretted leaving the warm confines of the hospital on Appleworth road. Everyone had talked so much about the renowned professor John Arthur Cowdry and his lecture at the medical school that day. The eccentric academic was in London for just two days and since he had completed the great majority of work on his patients that was required for that day he played with the idea of getting a quick glimpse of the professor before he was due back on the wards. He was intrigued more by the maverick persona of the professor than by the lecture itself, of which he didn't even know the title. He had known that the professor was considered a brilliant man who shrugged off a lucrative future to become a reclusive researcher, surfacing ever so often to divulge some snippet of wisdom to his peers. There were some, however, who branded him a harmless oddity who added little to the medical landscape and sought to discredit him every step of the way.
William himself was considered a bit if a whiz doc only two years now after graduation, having been awarded the clinical prize in his final exams for excellence. Since then, on many occasions as an intern and now as a senior house officer, he demonstrated a rare clinical acumen which impressed many a consultant and embarrassed a few. He was at times a bit overconfident with his knowledge of medicine but he tried his best to tame his attitude on the wards. He was well aware of the pecking order dynamic that existed amongst his superiors and how easily egotism flavored the daily routine. But he was also driven by the ethic of the best medical care he could offer his patients despite the poor examples by some of his colleagues.
Dr. Sarsfield hated the winters in England. The cold factor, yes, and the ever present overcast skies too was most undesirable, but it was the lack of daylight hours that seemed to affect him the most, and he longed for spring to arrive. He walked with a quickened pace down the cracked pavement in the square and passed his favorite bench where he sat and watched nature pass by. Quite a few vexing problems had been solved there and even in the winter he braved a few minutes a week in communion with his thoughts.
"Oi, William ... 'ang on a moment." He heard from behind and looked to see Ian Cairns, a fellow house officer trotting up the tree lined path towards him. He slowed his pace and allowed him to catch up. When they both fell into stride together Ian asked, "Are you on your way to see professor Cowdry's lecture too?"
"No, I thought I'd like to take a few minutes but I've decided it's not worth the bother really to see if the old geezer still has it." Said William. "What is it that he is supposed to be lecturing on anyway?"
"Something on aging I think, aah.... Defying time and staying young forever I think is the correct title." Said Ian.
Ian wasn't a bad chap William thought. Sensible doctor and all, just a bit too clingy at times when he wanted to read in solitude without having his opinion sought on every paragraph of a journal.
"Come on Gov'nor." Said Ian. "What have you got to lose, and I'll bet that there might be a few birds there from the medical school to flirt with. Look ... we can go for a couple of minutes to see if he says anything outlandish then leave. I need the company. At least he'll be on about a topic that he should know tons about."
"Cheers Ian.... Consider my arm twisted, let's go find out then my friend." Said William with a smile that was slightly too wide to be truly sincere.
They left the small wooded park through a rusting wrought iron gate and turned right on the pavement. The Library of the St. Elias Cooke Medical School was the venue for the lecture and they crossed the street one hundred or so yards further on. Once through the heavy oak doors and into the checker-tiled lobby they followed well placed signs directing them to an auditorium at the southern end of the four story building. They joined a steady stream of suited men and women making their way to a small door in the middle of a paneled wall with ornate portraits of past presidents of the university. A queue was beginning to form at the entrance and William could see that the auditorium was essentially full already. He tapped Ian on the shoulder and motioned for him to follow. William knew the layout of the library fairly well and he thought that they would be able to enter easier if they could enter from the back of the auditorium. They came to a narrow spiral staircase with a chain across it at the back of the Large room. It had a hand written sign on it clearly saying that the use of the stairs was confined the library staff only but William unhooked the chain and started up the stairs. Ian looked slightly out of his element and hesitated at the handrail.
"Come on Ian." Said William looking back. "I thought you wanted to see the lecture today."
"Yes but is it safe and all?"
"I've been this way loads of times.... come on will you."
Ian followed reluctantly up two flights of winding stairs and they both found themselves in a corridor leading to a set of doors at the rear of the auditorium. William went directly to the far right one and turned the handle. Locked; as he suspected but he knew the mechanism was old as he had used this entrance to the auditorium a few times when he had known that the main doors had been bolted. They could hear the din from the audience on the other side of the wood paneled wall as William put his shoulder to the door and gave it three firm thrusts. It opened with a jolt and startled a dark haired girl standing behind the seats. William smiled his apology and waved Ian to follow.
Inside the lecture hall every seat had been taken and the flat apron at the back where William and Ian entered was the next best desired vantage point. No one was on stage as yet, just a lectern and a three quarter filled glass of water on a small table beside it. William didn't fancy standing for the duration of the speech so he eased through the crowd and made his way down a few stairs and sat in the aisle. It was more than a coincidence that he sat next to Princella Henry, a lovely looking medical student from Coventry. She had red hair and fiery eyes and William fancied her quite a bit.
"Hello there Princella, mind if I sit here on the stair next to you?" William asked.
"My name is not Princella, it's Pricilla.... and you may chose to sit anywhere you like Dr. Sarsfield." She replied.
William clenched his jaw muscles and shut his eyes in a silent moment of embarrassment. Why did he always seem to make such a fool of himself when he came in to close proximity to the opposite gender? He knew he would have to do something soon to impress her so he could at least erase the negative score. He was about to apologize for his gaff when Ian sat on the stair behind him, grabbed him by the shoulders and pointed to the stage below.
A portly gentleman with a prominent double chin waddled to the podium in a pinstriped waistcoated suit. He cleared his throat and welcomed the gathering.
"Ladies and gentlemen, friends and colleagues, allow me to welcome you to this annual lecture series at the Cooke library. Today we are privileged to have with us today the most esteemed professor John Cowdry. His theories on aging over the years have left us spellbound. More recently he cooperated with the British government on the physiologic changes of our soldiers returning from the front lines of this just concluded war against the Germans. Work I must add, that has been given much commendation from the war office." The master of ceremonies paused and fished a blue handkerchief from his breast pocket and wiped the area behind his left ear. Still smiling, he went on.
"Ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasure to present to you today, speaking on the topic: 'The Waisting of Time; We Need not Age!'.... Professor John Arthur Cowdry!"
There was a pleasing round of applause that bounced off the library walls and seemed louder than its true decibel level. A few students and a handful of the older physicians stood up in anticipated appreciation. The clapping soon stopped however and there was an awkward bubble of silence that grew in the room as no one appeared behind the black curtain at the back of the stage. The pot bellied man on stage looked back nervously and cleared his throat again. Three more seconds passed and the curtain finally swayed with movement and two men emerged from the cleavage in the cloth.
Professor Cowdry walked out to a short lived rekindling of applause with a younger taller gentleman who was a half step behind him. He had a concerned protective look about him with hands at the ready in case the professor tripped. They walked forward slowly towards the podium where the double chinned man still stood and exchanged pleasantries. Then there was laughter. A little chuckle at first, but soon a generous chorus. The subject of the mirth came from the two cats that followed the pair through the curtain. They sauntered nonchalantly on stage coming to rest on either side of the professor like two feline sentries.
William Sarsfield, sitting on the auditorium stairs, watched the doctor come onto the stage with his assistant and was mildly amused at the two cats which accompanied him but he had his eye on something else. The form and contour of Pricilla's lapped leg was exquisite. He wished he hadn't gotten her name wrong because he really did want to get to know her and wondered what he could do to impress her. But then he silently questioned if he had come all this way to admire the fleshy ellipse of this female's calf. The microphone whistled like an angry kettle and he snapped from his mini trance and listened to the professor's first words.
"I would probably guess that close to one hundred percent of this audience believes that aging and senescence is an inescapable fact of life. I would also wager that you all presume that the wrinkles and brittle bones and a fading memory are inevitable with the passage of time".
By the time he had paused the collection of students, doctors and academics were paralyzed by the power of his speech. He surveyed the assembly and strummed the wrinkles on his own face like a harp and continued.
"My friends, I'm here to tell you that there are ways to arrest the unkind hand of time on our bodies. My research over the years has brought me closer to the secrets of long-lasting youth...."
The room for some reason was growing warmer. A few people began to fan themselves and shed their white coats while others ignored the temperature change and remained fixated on the lecture. Professor Cowdry himself didn't seem to miss a beat despite the parallel beads of sweat racing down his sideburned face.
".... Consider a closed cylindrical glass tube half filled with sand. Let us say the glass tube represents one's life span and the sand is time itself.... if one were to turn the tube upside down the sand would fall to the other end in a virtual block, wouldn't it?" The professor asked.
"Let's say this represented some one-celled protoplasmic creature with the shortest of life spans.... Thus to demonstrate the life span of for instance, a butterfly, one would increase the passage of time of the sand by creating a constriction in the middle of the glass tube. A WAIST if you will." He paused, ostensibly for a sip of water, but it was almost certainly a well designed interruption to hold a rapt audience in suspense. "Now the image of an hour glass is familiar to us all isn't it?.... Sands moving through a narrowed glass tube. What if our life span were represented by an hourglass. What if it was expected that an hour was what we were supposed to be allotted and 'thank you very much'. Now suppose I tell you learned people today that I am perfecting a device which would take the form of a belt in this analogy. A belt that would be put around the waist of time and drawn tight to make it even smaller. Tighter and tighter such that grains of sand might only tumble through one at a time! Thus creating a life span controlled by the strength of the waisting effect. The possibilities emanating from this concept are staggering to say the least."
There had been a gradual increase in murmur and movement since the professor had begun to talk about the hourglass model. He continued on for another quarter of an hour, pleased at the effect that his speech was having on the minions out there. He teased and toyed with their emotions and challenged the boundaries of conventional thought. At each controversial pause in his speech there was an animated leaning to and fro in the crowd as colleagues whispered comments and criticisms to each other. Many times the double chinned man had to raise his hands for quiet.
William Sarsfield, still sitting on the auditorium stairs, was glad that he had come. The professor had not disappointed him at all. The spectacle of his demeanor with his outlandish theories coupled with is cats on stage made good theater. From his vantage point Dr. Sarsfield could even see the garish deposits of dried spittle that had accumulated in the corners of the professor's lips. A testament to his fervor. He however had not made any headway with Pricilla. She skillfully ignored him throughout the whole lecture. He had made a passing comment to her but she only nodded blandly in response and turned again to the front. He was determined to leave her with a positive impression of himself before the proceedings were over and he desperately thought of his options as the professor fielded questions and comments.
From as far back as his early school days, William loved to show off to get a girl's attention. He was almost powerless, sometimes, to stop himself from doing some silly antic merely to set himself apart from other suitors. Now he found himself raising his arm to ask a question in a packed auditorium of peers and academics. Even after the double chinned gentleman pointed in his direction and he was standing to his feet he wasn't quite sure what he was going to ask.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from The Waisting Of Time by Derek Berry Thorpe. Copyright © 2013 Derek Berry Thorpe. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse.
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