Page 140 of Something Like Forever
“Uhhuh,” Ben said dutifully. Computers might be capable of providing aflawless diagnosis in mere seconds, but the human ego stilldemanded the right to go first.
“I’mafraid the scans confirm my findings. Your heart failure iscategorized in the advanced stages, but please don’t panic. In thepast, this condition would have left you with mere months to live.The good news is that modern medicine is able to nearly halt thedeterioration. I can’t promise that you’ll reach your hundredthbirthday, but another five years isn’t unrealistic, perhaps eventen.”
No, the doctor wasdefinitely as young as he looked. Otherwise he wouldn’t consideranother ten years as a feeble old man to be good news. “And thesymptoms? The breathing problems?”
“I’mprescribing a medication to help ease the discomfort, although thesymptoms won’t abate completely. You’ll just have to learn to slowdown and not stay out so late partying. You’re not exactly younganymore!”
“Ha haha,” Ben said dutifully, trying to make it sound convincing, whileinside, he comforted himself with the knowledge that one day thedoctor too would be old. No matter how good he looked, he wouldstill experience creaking bones, memory loss, and tiredness despitehow often he fell asleep in his chair.
“I’vetransmitted the details to your pharmacy. Expect the prescriptionto be drone-dropped within the hour.”
Ben thanked the doctor forhis help before his memory nudged him. “Just a moment. My husbandhas a cough that won’t go away. If you don’t mind?”
He didn’t wait forpermission. Ben shuffled to the kitchen, then peered out at thebackyard. When this didn’t turn up anything, he went to the stairsand shouted. His hearing was still sharp, as was Tim’s, and theredefinitely wasn’t a response. When he returned to the televisionscreen, the doctor was wearing an expression of forced patience.Ben recognized it from when he was young and had to deal with oldpeople who no longer cared who they inconvenienced.
“Sorry,”Ben said. “He must be out partying. I’ll have him call youback.”
He ended the transmission.Then he thought about the prognosis. He didn’t need long to decidehow he felt about it. His memory nudged him again, this time alittle too late. “Oh right.” He cleared his throat, because hemight not be hard of hearing, but he swore their computer was.“Locate Tim,” he said. Then, under his breath he added, “Youinfernal thing.”
“Tim is currently in the studio,”said a pleasantly neutral voice.
Ben grunted and headed forthe front door.
“I’m sorry, I did not understand yourrequest.”
“I betyou didn’t.” Then louder he said, “Contact the store and have themdeliver whatever groceries we need with my prescription.” Thatshould keep it busy.
He went outside, blinkingagainst the light. Then he stood on the front stoop, letting thesun warm his skin. He closed his eyes, which made it easier toremember being young, when things like moving and breathing weredone without effort or discomfort. Another ten years. Ben tried toimagine them. Then he decided to see if Tim felt the same way as hedid.
Ben went to the shed, thesame one that William had helped repurpose as a studio. That madehim smile. William was still such a kind man, infinitely patientwith Jason and catering to his every need. As always, that remindedBen of someone else he had once known. Sometimes his relationshipwith Jace felt like ancient history, but more often than not, hecould have sworn it had taken place just the other day. All thefeelings were still there. Even age couldn’t touch them.
He knocked gently on thestudio door, understanding how delicate the creative process couldbe. When he heard a voice say his name, his heart reacted as ifeager to prove it wasn’t failing. Ben opened the door and found Timstanding before a canvas. Lord he was handsome! His hair was starkwhite, which instead of contrasting with his eyes, now complementedthem perfectly. Tim’s hair was still thick, which Ben envied. Maybehe should have talked to the doctor about that instead. Then again,what point was there in being vain at his age? Attractiontranscended the physical. For them both. He tried to consider Timmore harshly, seeing how his body was stooped, the once-firm armssagging with gravity, the face lined and worn, like paper that hadbeen crumpled and smoothed out over and over again until it wassoft, which made it so much nicer to kiss. Nope, no sense in tryingto be critical. Any time Ben looked at Tim, all he saw was abeautiful man whom he still found just as attractive now as he hadin decades past. Even more so, in fact.
“I knowthat look,” Tim said, setting down his paintbrush. “Although I haveto say, I was expecting a glare instead of bedroomeyes.”
“Becauseyou skipped another doctor’s appointment?” Ben shook his head,closed the door behind him, and ambled forward to the sofa. He sat,Tim joining him, and for a moment they both basked in how good itfelt to be off their feet.
Ben nodded at the largepainting on the easel, which was still in its earliest stages. Ifhe had to guess, it would be some sort of building. “What are youworking on?”
“You’llsee when I’m finished,” Tim said. “How’d it go with thedoctor?”
“Heartfailure,” Ben said, seeing no need to soften the blow. Death wasn’tnearly as frightening or as distant anymore.
“How serious?”
“Very, but only if leftuntended. With the right medicine, you’ll get another decade out ofme.”
“Good,” Tim said, but heappeared pale, and when he coughed, it went on for longer thannormal.
“Is it a good thing?” Benasked. “I can’t help asking myself that lately. We’ve had longlives.”
“What are yousaying?”
Ben chose his answercarefully. “That I miss my parents. I know it’s been a long timenow, but it still hurts. I’m tired of people disappearing from thisworld. It makes everything feel so…”
“Unfamiliar,” Tim finished for him. Then he pointed to thewall, at a painting of a dog bounding through a field of rainbowlight. “I still miss Chinchilla. Sven too. And Pierre andBoris.”
“You and your dogs,” Benchided.
