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LOCKED IN
A short story by Tamsyn
Most people are desperate to prolong their life. Some people can do
something about it.
I wasn't always like this, you know.
Once I was young and energetic; full of life. I had a young family, a
whole life of possibilities spreading out ahead of me. Now I am old, my
body atrophied, my mind sometimes active and lucid but unable to
communicate. I cannot speak, I need to be fed by others, my limbs do not
obey me, and all I can do is lie here in this bed and gaze at the
television while I wait for my incontinence pad to fill with piss and
shit. And, beyond that, only death.
Sad, I hear you say, shaking your head in sympathy, very sad indeed. Not
at all dignified but as a man of 86 with a lifetime of experience and
memories I've had a good run. A good innings, you might say, with the
jocularity of someone for whom death is still a long way away.
Well, you might think that, but I've got news for you.
I've not had much of a run at all, in fact. I've only been like this for
a couple of months. I may have this wasted, ancient male body, but until
IT happened, I was a 23-year old woman in the best of health.
Yes, really. No shit. Well, plenty of shit actually, as I need changing
again.
So how did IT happen? How did I find myself like this and watch the true
owner of this body I inhabit waltz off in mine? Pull up a chair and I'll
tell you.
+ + +
Well, that fateful day I left home for work without a care in the world.
I kissed my boyfriend goodbye and gave a big hug to my two-year-old
daughter, as I did most days when I was on the early shift. He would take
her to the nursery before he left for his own job as an assistant car
dealership manager in town. A short bus ride later and I was walking up
the drive of Lakeside Nursing Home, an old mansion that had been
converted into one of God's waiting rooms -how easily that expression
used to trip off the tongue. I worked there as a care assistant, having
done so since I left college. I was due to finish there in the autumn,
having applied and been accepted as a student nurse at the local Uni.
Life was good.
The day followed its usual routine, helping with breakfasts before
getting the residents out of bed and assisting as required, or bed
bathing those that couldn't. Making beds, helping them to the toilet and
greeting visitors, then lunches and assisting those who wanted to go back
to bed for a nap, and so on. Hard work, but I found it enjoyable.
It was during this period that I bumped into Marie Colville. She was the
daughter -or so I thought- of the man whose body I now inhabit, Edward
Colville. Edward had suffered a severe stroke some years back, and was
now in the last stages of Alzheimer's disease, unable to do anything. And
I mean anything. He had been with us for a couple of months, and would
stay with us until the end. Marie was in her mid-forties, attractive in a
careworn way, and quite pleasant. She visited most days.
"Could you pop in to see me before you go?" she asked. "Nothing
important, but if you have five minutes I'd be very grateful."
If only I'd said no, that I had to get off quickly, or that my bus
wouldn't wait... But, me being me, I readily agreed, and I carried on
with my work, the clock slowly drawing near to the end of my shift, and
that fateful moment.
I grabbed my coat and my handbag from my locker and climbed the stairs to
the first floor. Edward's room was in the east wing of the old mansion,
and I walked along the corridor to his door, which was ajar.
"Come in," Marie answered to my knock.
I went in, and she smiled up at me from the armchair next to his bed.
Edward was a pitiful sight. Once he'd been a handsome man, judging from
the photos I'd seen of him in his younger days. He'd once played rugby
for one of the bigger teams, but it was hard to believe that now, looking
at his wasted frame. It seemed lost in the bed, it was so small. A one-
time stockbroker, he'd done quite well out of life, and could more than
pay for his nursing care here.
"Hi, Mrs. Colville," I said. "You wanted to see me?"
"Oh, yes," she said, picking up her bag and rummaging through it. "Could
you shut the door?"
I pushed it shut behind me and, when I turned back again, I just had the
chance to register her holding something out towards me before a
sensation of sharp, piercing pain coursed through my body. It lasted for
several seconds and I barely noticed as my legs folded up and I crashed
to the floor beneath me, stunned and confused.
I had no idea what just happened, but as the pain eased, I realised I had
been shot with a taser. Before I could do recover, Marie's face appeared
above me, and she slipped something around my head. It felt cool and
metallic against my skin. My hand went up to it automatically but before
I could touch it I felt more pain, spearing through my head and making
the taser seem like a finger prick.
I'm not sure if I screamed. I must have done, with that hot, sheering
agony, and I felt my body arch beneath me on the carpet as it went on for
what seemed like hours. It consumed me, reaching through every fibre of
my body like fire as it blotted out everything else. Light exploded in
front of my eyes, and I could feel my heart thumping as if it would punch
through my chest.
Then, just as abruptly, it stopped, and for a few giddy seconds there was
nothing, not even the sense of feeling, and I felt like I was floating
through an eternity of nothingness. There was a strange sense of...
dislocation, and from a distance I heard a voice. It seemed faint, as if
coming from the other end of a long tunnel.
"Edward?" the voice called. "Edward? Are you there?"
Then I heard another voice. It seemed familiar.
"Yes... I... Oh, God. Marie?"
But that was my voice. Did I say that? I was slowly emerging from the
nothingness, like a thick fog clearing slowly.
"Oh my God! Edward! It worked!"
Was I in bed? I seemed to be lying under bedclothes. How did that happen?
"Let me help you up."
"No, I'm fine." I didn't speak, but that was my voice again. I was
certain of it.
Yes, I was in the bed, my head propped up. My limbs felt like lead. Had I
had a seizure?
"Oh, Edward, I can't believe..." There was sobbing.
"Don't cry, my love."
I was aware of movement off to my left, and though I could move my eyes I
could not do much else.
"What happened?" I asked. At least I tried to. The words formed in my
head, but they went no further. I heard a growling moan escape my lips.
A face appeared in front of me, young, bright eyed surrounded by blonde
hair, light glinting from the piercing in the nose. I recognised it
somehow.
"All right, Edward?" it asked, a smile creeping across it.
But that was my face! What was happening?
Hands deftly removed a metal strap from my head, wires sprouting from it
like weeds. I made to grab at the hands, but nothing happened.
Marie again, more composed: "You'd better leave. I'll give it five
minutes. The car's just down the road. The red Mercedes."
"Okay," I heard my voice answer, and that's when I recognised the face
that had spoken to me.
It WAS me. My face. My voice. But if so, then where was I-
Oh no. Oh, God no!
That was why I couldn't move my limbs. Why I couldn't speak. I was in the
bed. In Edward Colville's body!
I howled with anguish, though it came out as a loud moan.
"I think she's just realised what's happened," I heard my voice -Edward's
voice?- say.
"It took her long enough," Marie replied.
I moved his eyes to look at them. They stood side by side, next to the
bed, looking down at me triumphantly. Marie and, next to her, Edward. In
my body.
"I've put a lot of money into research into brain studies over the
years," Edward said. "Quite ironic that I ended up with a stroke and
Alzheimer's when you think about it. But the people I sponsored managed
to create something special, a little device that can scan a person's
consciousness, just like a photocopier, and send it somewhere else. Of
course, the consciousness it replaces has to go somewhere to make room,
so it travels back the same way. A two-way road. Clever buggers.
"Now, when I knew that Alzheimer's was on the way I transferred
everything into Marie's name -who, by the way is actually my wife- and
told her to up the funding. We were working against time, as we had to
get a good print of the consciousness. It was a bit rushed, but it seems
to have worked. I have to admit, you wouldn't be my first choice, but-"
and here I saw my hands reach up and squeeze my breasts "-I will get used
to it. Ooh!" His fingers brushed against his nipples. "I'll definitely
get used to it!"
I felt a flash of anger. Then a further burst at the impotency of it.
"That nice Mark was our first choice," Marie said, referring to one of my
colleagues. "But we found out that he has a congenital heart defect. And
the rest of the young men here are all Asians or Filipinos. Sorry, but
no. You are in perfect health, my dear, and are very young."
"Well, you were," Edward smiled with my face. "Sorry, my sweetheart, but
that's just the way it is. You'd do it if it were you."
Marie turned and looked at her -him. "And now we have so much to look
forward to. We'll dye your hair and let it grow out. Some nose reshaping.
There's bound to be a lot of people looking for you."
My body shrugged. "They won't find me. To all intents and purposes your
daughter's come and moved in. At least-" a wolfish smile that I had
certainly never used "-in public."
Marie smiled back, and I watched as they kissed tenderly.
"Oh, I am so going to enjoy living in your body," Edward continued with
my voice, looking back at me. "Another life to live. But for now, time to
go. I'll see you at the car, my love." One more triumphant smile, and a
blown kiss from the doorway, and that was the last I ever saw of my body
again.
Marie collected her things. "I won't be visiting again," she said. "The
matron knows that I've decided to move down to my sister's house in Devon
for a couple of months. It's been a very hard time lately, and I need a
break. And I'm sorry but, by all accounts, you probably don't have more
than three or four months left."
She paused at the door. "Don't judge us too harshly. Edward's right. Or
whatever name he will decide to use. Anybody would do the same if they
had the means. Goodbye, my dear."
And she too left.
+ + +
So, there's my story. Short, but tragic. The television news reported
that I had gone missing after finishing my shift, and I was the lead
story for a day or two. The CCTV on the front door of the nursing home
saw me leave, but after that there was absolutely nothing. It was as if
I'd just disappeared into thin air. A few erroneous reports, but nothing
else. No body, no suspects. My boyfriend made a public appeal, which was
heart breaking for me to watch, but within a few weeks the commotion died
down and the media moved on. I became an unsolved case that no doubt
would periodically be looked at as the years rolled on, otherwise
gathering dust on the shelf in a store somewhere.
Marie was right. In the last couple of weeks, I've contracted a nasty
chest infection, and now it has developed into full blown pneumonia. I
know enough that I will be unlikely to survive. So be it. These last few
weeks of existence have been more than enough in this body, made worse by
the fact that I miss my little girl so much, and knowing she will never
see me again. She will grow up with only a photograph of me and some
vague memories from when she was very little.
As for the Colvilles, I believe in an afterlife. And retribution. And I
know that one day I will meet them again somewhere. And I SHALL have my
revenge.
Dottie
- 16.01.2021
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