The Life Experiment

© Sandra Purdue

Forehead resting against the living room window, Joshua watched the traffic crawl by on the street below and vanish from his line of sight. The tiny cars and people looked like ants marching into an ant trap, marching dutifully to their deaths.

“My God, Joshua, how poor do we have to be before the state'll even consider helping us?” Ellen asked after reading the letter. Her question was thunderous in the blanketing silence.

“What about your parents,” he asked, still eyeing the activity below.

“They won't help us anymore.”

“I don't know what else to do.”

She neatly folded the letter and put it back inside the envelope. “How did the interview with the city go this morning?”

He picked another sliver of paint off the window frame. “It went okay.”

“Did they offer you the job?”

“I don't have the stomach to scrub toilets.” He stiffened, knowing what was coming.

“But you have no problem digging through other people's trash for soda cans.”

He turned from the window and looked at her. Like their four-year-old son, Jack, and James, who was two, her eyes were huge and desperate. Guilt slapped him in the face, forcing him to look away. “I'd rather rob a bank.”

“You're not serious.”

His arms folded, he examined the floor a moment. “I told you I'd take care of this family.”

“Well there's a great way to take care of your family… making me be the one to tell the kids there's nothing to eat for dinner again while you're in prison getting three hots and a cot.”

“Josh, please!” she shouted as he walked out the door.

He ignored her.

What if I called the city and told them that I've changed my mind? he thought while he sat on the bus watching the buildings pass by.

“There's no such thing as a magic button that'll let us to go back and redo the past,” his father told him once. Yeah, but if I hadn't called in sick the last time, we wouldn't be in this position.

The bus stopped a few doors down from the bank. Dizzy, he took a few deep breaths to steady himself and stumbled off the bus. Inside the bank he went over to a counter and pretended to fill out a deposit form while he looked around. The stragglers that made up the late lunch crowd were there. Naturally, they were never in a hurry.

Deposit slip in hand, he went to the end of the long line to wait with the rest of the herd, repeatedly practicing in his head what he would say. Only a second or two passed before he found himself standing at the front of the line. A chesty brunette called him up to the counter.

Disjoined, he watched the other Joshua step up to the counter, pull out a gun and demand all the money in her drawer. A man reached under the counter. “Put your hands in the air!” the other Josh hollered as he swung the gun to face him.

The man threw his hands in the air. “I'm not doing anything… I swear!”

White-knuckle grip on the bag of money, Joshua turned to leave. Elbows and asses all over the place outside, every cop in the world had his gun trained on the front door, waiting for him to step outside.

He turned to the teller he just robbed. “Is there another way out of here?”

She shook her head.

He pulled an elderly woman off the floor and threw an arm across her chest. The gun pressed to her temple, he pushed her out the door ahead of him.

He awoke with a start and looked around the room. The solid white walls, ceiling, and floor made it impossible to discern where one ended and the other began. High above the head of his bed were two darkened windows behind which four soulless eyes stared into his. “Help me please,” he tried to say, but a tube in his throat gagged him.

A steel band across his chest prevented him from sitting up. Various tubes jutted from every orifice on his body. An IV tube snaked from his right arm finally ending in a bag filled with a yellowish substance. He craned his neck to look through the windows again, this time locking eyes with one of them. Choking, retching, he pleaded for help. The person turned and walked away, revealing a dozen or more of them sitting behind the window. Expressionless, all of them were watching him.

* * *

Everything prior to this moment forgotten, he stood in front of his house wondering what he should do. It all happened so fast. One minute, he was watching television with his children, his wife was in the kitchen making dinner, and the next, flames had swallowed up everyone and everything he'd ever known.

He ran into the kitchen when he heard his wife shout in surprise. By then, the flames were licking the ceiling, tasting the texture and the paint they had so lovingly put up there a short time ago. A glass of water was in her hand. He shouted at her to stop, but it was already too late. The rest of the kitchen lit up like dry kindling after she dumped the water on the fire.

“Go out the bathroom window!” he said and ran into the living room to get the kids out of the house. Already, the flames had overtaken the room. The flames followed him back into the dining room where he opened the sliding glass door and fell outside. Coughing, gasping, he staggered to the front of the house and looked for his family. None of them were there.

Going around to the side of the house, he opened the laundry room window and looked for his family. Seeing it was empty he went over to the bathroom window and tried to open it. “Stupid thing never opens when we need it to,” he said. Using his elbow to break the glass, he shoved the curtain back and looked inside.

Calling their names, he ran all the way around the house. In front of the house again, he went up to the front door and paused briefly before opening it. Barely resisting the flames that were coaxing him further inside, he took a few steps back and threw himself onto the ground to snuff out the fire on his clothes.

Mesmerized, he stood there and stared at the flames that were caressing the exterior of the house. He didn't hesitate to go inside when someone inside the house screamed for help.

He opened his eyes and looked around. Seeing that he was in a pristine white room, he figured that he was in a hospital somewhere. The tube in his throat stopped him from crying out for help.

High above the head of his bed, people were watching him from on the other side of the windows.

* * *

Inside his condominium in Manhattan, where he'd lived for the last fifteen years with his wife, Joshua compared the numbers on his lottery ticket to the numbers that were just drawn. “I can't believe we won.”

“Lemme see it,” his wife said and snatched the ticket away to compare the numbers herself. “This is the best Christmas ever.” She stood up and began to do her happy dance, throwing her arms everywhere and twisting her body.

The snow was falling heavily the following morning; the news said it would be a blizzard. Nevertheless, Joshua and his wife travelled to the Lottery Headquarters to cash in their winning ticket. Already well off, Joshua wanted to invest the money as soon as possible.

On the way home, they passed a man standing on the side of the road with a sign in his hand claiming that he was a disabled veteran with children to feed. “That guy makes even more money than I do,” Joshua said.

“How do you know that?” his wife asked.

“ Everyone knows how much panhandlers make.”

He saw a family of four standing in front of the McDonald's restaurant up ahead. They were a pathetic bunch; all of them were shivering, none of them had a coat on. “Yeah, you're homeless and starving and I'm dirt poor,” he muttered as he slowed the car down enough to read their sign.

Awakening, he looked around and saw that he was in a white room.

In the next instant, everything beforehand forgotten, he found himself sitting in an alleyway. The same alley he'd been living in for the last two years. Bedraggled, cooking in his own stench, he looked around. Every shadow seemed to move within the inky darkness. Even the stars above were in hiding.

As quietly as he could, he pulled the candy bar from his pocket and tore the wrapper to expose part of it. His stomach growled, water gushed inside his mouth. It would be the first thing he'd eaten in days.

He was so grateful when a middle-aged woman handed him a dollar that he practically fell prostrate before her and kissed her feet. Going inside the store, he picked out a Snickers candy bar, paid the ninety-six cents for it and snuck around the corner with it.

“Thank you God!” he whispered and took a bite. As he brought the candy up to his mouth again, he heard someone sniffle. Hastily wrapping the candy, he shoved it back into his pocket and waited. Barely perceptible, he heard someone whimper.

“Hello?” he said and stood up. A minute or so passed. Figuring it was just his imagination he sat back down and pulled the candy bar out of his pocket.

There it was again, someone sniffled.

Shoving the candy bar back into his pocket, he stood up and waited. This time there was no mistaking the sound of someone crying. He took a few steps deeper into the alley and stopped at the edge of the dumpster. The crying became louder. He peeked around the corner and saw a girl of about seven, maybe eight-years-old, curled up in a ball. She was crying. Her face was wet with tears.

He went over to her, gently touched her shoulder. “What's the matter?”

She sat up and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “My mommy left me here and I'm scared.”

“Have you eaten?” She shook her head.

He pulled the rest of his candy bar out of his pocket and held out to her. “Here, eat this.”

Tentative, she reached out and took the candy bar. “Thank you mister,” she said and hugged him.

He awoke in an unfamiliar white room. Wondering if he had been in an accident he looked around and saw several people standing behind the darkened windows above the head of his bed. They were staring at him.

Another day in another life, while he waited for the service to begin, he overheard one of the ladies behind him say, “I wish the pastor would just kick Arnold out of here. This is a sanctuary after all—not a hangout for gays.”

“Oh, I agree! We need to give this church an enema, get rid of all of the perverts,” another woman said.

Joshua's gaze cold and hard, he turned around and stared directly into their eyes, one right after the other. Stiffly, he turned back around. Nothing but a pack of rabid dogs.

Acid poured into his stomach, his temples began to pound as the hens went on and on. He was sorely tempted to turn back around and say, “I'm sure thankful our churches and communities have gatekeepers like you, since you're so perfect and righteous and all.” But he didn't.

“Well, if he doesn't tell him to hit the road by the end of service, I'll just have to do it myself!” a man sitting across the isle from the cloven-hoofed, hairy, fat knuckled things that called themselves ladies said.

Joshua glared at him. He couldn't remember his name, but he always remembered him because he looked like a cross between a dachshund and a rat, a filthy, shaggy rat. For crying out loud, have your teeth ever seen a toothbrush?

Pastor Marvin strutted out to the podium. He smiled big as he looked out at the congregants. The church was almost full. He'd rake in lots of money today.

Joshua went up to the pulpit and snatched the microphone off its stand like he owned it. “Raise your hand if you want Arnold to leave the church!” he said.

Everyone but Arnold raised his or her hand. He turned and looked at the pastor who was smiling, holding his head and his hand high in the air. He was so proud of himself.

Daggers in Joshua's eyes, he looked into the faces of the men, women, and teenagers of the congregation. “I have been coming to this church my entire life and I have never seen so much backstabbing anywhere! Unlike the rest of you—who are nothing but a herd of charlatans—Arnold has never said a bad word about any of you.

“Arnold isn't gay. Pastor Marvin started that rumor because he doesn't like him. You know, I wonder if our dear pastor's wife and Betty's husband know that he's been sleeping with Betty for the last year or so. Oh, in fact, here's Betty right now, she's sitting in the front row! Why don't you stand up and take a bow, Betty?”

Hand over her mouth like she was about to vomit, Betty ran from the room.

Pointing at them, he said, “And last but not least are the pack of rabid dogs, also known as The Hot Flash Queens From Hell. Everyone says that it's little wonder why all of your husbands up and left. You would've pecked them to death if they hadn't!”

Everyone felt terrible and apologized to Arnold—everyone but the church's biggest benefactors and Pastor Marvin, that is. As incredible as it was, their decision was based on the fact that Arnold's supposed homosexuality had been the talk of the town for quite some time. Their image would be destroyed if they didn't get rid of him.

Joshua followed Arnold out the church door for the last time. “No wonder most people think Christians are hypocrites!” he shouted on the way out, letting the door slam shut behind him.

“You're a true friend, Joshua, thank you,” Arnold said after he walked Joshua out to his car.

“You're my friend, I love you man,” Joshua said. “Hey listen, maybe we can get together and study the Bible sometime.”

“That would be nice. When do you want to meet?”

“How about today… now?”

“Right now?”

“Sure, why not. We can study at your place next time.”

Joshua awoke and looked around the white room. A few people were staring at him from the other side of the windows. He only had a moment to wonder why.

Sitting in the chair next to his wife's hospital bed, he reached over and held her hand. Technically, she was still alive. If she awakened, she would never be able to do more than move her eyes around on occasion. The doctors gave him the option of having her euthanized.

He laid his head next to her leg and thought about his secretary, Elaine, with whom he had been having an affair for over a year. He was planning to tell Cynthia, his wife, that he wanted a divorce. But that was before her car accident ripped the chance right out from under him. Though appalling, the option of euthanizing her was a perfect opportunity to get rid of her forever. Not only would he be with Elaine free and clear, but he would also collect a sickening amount of money from Cynthia's life insurance policy.

He thought about the day he met Cynthia. Realizing that he forgot one of his books on the way to his economics class, he ran back to his locker to get it. Books in hand, he accidentally bumped into her as he raced back to class, sending everything in her hands flying all over the place.

“Oh I'm sorry!” he said for the thousandth time while he picked up her books and papers. Handing everything to her, he saw that she was gorgeous. “My name is Joshua,” he said and held his hand out for her to shake.

“Nice to meet you,” she said and introduced herself as Cynthia.

They were married six months later. Their distance increased throughout the years, they allowed their jobs to pull them away from each other. At the beginning of his affair with Elaine, his intention was to add a little variety to his love life, get some strange. Unfortunately, the day he tried to tell her that he wanted to end it she threatened to tell his wife about them.

He raised his head and looked into Cynthia's face for a few minutes, watched her sleep while he made his decision.

He stepped outside the room and called Elaine from his cell phone, asked her to meet him at the little park on fifty-fourth and Broadway.

He was first to arrive at the park. Climbing out of his car, he walked over and sat down on one of the benches. Repeatedly, he practiced what he would say to her. He wanted to be as sensitive as possible, but he had little desire to leave room for doubt. Nervous, he watched Elaine park her car and get out.

Concern etched across her face, she rushed over and sat down next to him. She looked him in the eyes and waited for what seemed an eternity.

“Elaine,” he finally began, “I want you to know that I'll always love you, but I have to end our affair. I can't leave my wife in the condition she's in and having her euthanized is unthinkable. I love her too much.”

* * *

A feeling of déjà vu hit when he awoke in the white room again. Looking through the dark windows above his bed, he saw several people standing there. Did I dream about this happening or something?

“I'm leaving you, Joshua. I want a divorce,” his wife said as she stood before him in the living room.

Stunned, he simply stared at her. They had raised four children together. He thought she was happy.

An image of her holding his hand as he lay in the hospital bed fighting the intestinal cancer flashed across his mind. “ I love you no matter what you look like, Joshua ,” she had said when he was too ashamed to undress in front of her because of the colostomy bag that would forever hang from his side.

“Why? What did I do?” he asked, tears pouring down his cheeks.

“I've met someone else,” she said and then walked out the door.

He stared at the partially open door for a while. Like him, the door seemed to hang limply on its hinges, ready to fall to the floor any moment. “April fools!” she would say when she came back, or, “I was only teasing!” Maybe even, “I changed my mind, I really don't want to leave you.”

Twenty minutes later, he closed the door. The soft clicking sound it made jolted his nerves.

In the bedroom, he opened his side of the closet and pulled the gun out from under a stack of sweatshirts. Going back out to the living room, he sat on the couch and watched the door. Finally, he cocked the hammer and shoved the barrel into his mouth.

Like a flash of lightning, a memory of him living on the streets and sharing a candy bar with a small child blazed through his brain. Another memory of him using an old woman as a shield outside a bank. I never did any of that .

He set the gun down on the coffee table as hundreds of false recollections flooded into his mind. He looked at an old picture of his wife. It was faded somehow. Not from age, but from semi-transparency. He picked it up and nearly dropped it when he saw his hand through the photo and frame. The precious photographs of his children were diminishing. Around the room, the gun, coffee table, chairs, and the walls slipped away into nothingness.

No longer was he sitting on his couch. He was lying in a bed in a solid white room. A metal strap held him down. The more he thought about it, the more certain he became that he'd had a nervous breakdown.

He heard a slight whooshing sound and looked over. Two men wearing all white came rushing into the room. Joshua tried to speak.

“Allow me to remove your feeding tube,” one of the men said.

“What is going on? Where am I?” Joshua asked. His voice was husky from the irritating tube.

“Do not be afraid, Joshua,” the man who pulled the tube from his mouth said. “You are very special. You have just completed your seventh cycle of The Life Experiment. The others have only been able to survive four.”

“Indeed. The majority have died upon completing the fourth cycle,” the other man said. “Perhaps you will live through eight.”

“The Life Experiment?”

“Yes, in order to prevent madness, each human must believe that he or she is experiencing life,” the first one explained. “Though we feed a set of controlled, yet life-like circumstances into their minds, we let the individual to decide how to react. Gestation is complete upon finishing each sequence or lifecycle.”

“What about my wife…my kids?”

“Nothing you experienced was real,” the second said.

“Why are you doing this to me?”

“Thousands of years ago, our first mating experiment with humans ended disastrously,” the first began.

“It was a complete disaster,” the second said. “However, we found success when we implanted the fetus of a half-breed inside the abdomen of a human host. Once implanted, the fetus derives its nourishment from the internal organs of the host until gestation is complete. The experience is most excruciating for the human host, unfortunately.”

The first man said, “Yes, terribly, terribly excruciating. Those who did not die from the pain went mad, nearly destroying the fetus. We endeavored to find alternative ways to relieve the pain and make the experience pleasant for the host and safe for the fetus. The Life Experiment is what makes humans believe that they are living life on their home planet. It is a highly effective way to lessen the pain of gestation and we have called it that ever since.”

The sidekick said, “No need to change the name. The timing of The Life Experiment—or lifecycle, if you wish—coincides precisely with the timing of gestation, after which the husk—or what remains of the human host—is discarded. You have already survived seven cycles.”

“Why would you mate with humans?”

“Creating millions of perfect hybrids will facilitate our invasion of planet Earth.” His voice was drenched in condescension.

“We are close to obtaining our goal.”

Joshua felt something move inside his abdomen and looked down. It moved again, pushed outward. Whatever it was, it was huge.

The first man picked up a scalpel from a table that was brought in. “Gestation being complete is now time to remove the child. Because you are special, Joshua, we are allowing you to witness the event.”

They removed the baby from his abdomen.

Joshua heard it cry. “Can I see the baby?”

“I must warn you, Joshua, this one was unsuccessful,” the first one said. Joshua nodded.

He leaned over to let him look at the infant.

Staring into its face, into its bulbous, jet-black eyes, Joshua screamed.

Joshua and his wife was the loveliest couple at the policeman's ball; everyone told them so.

__________________________

Sandra Purdue lives in Colorado with her husband, three dogs and a son who wears all black. She is the author of The Keepers: Liberation . Visit her website at: http://www.sandrapurdue.com