When Gerald makes a miraculous recovery from being brain dead, his intellect has been exponentially increased, but all of his memories have been erased. Gerald is the subject of an experimental genetic procedure. Artificially generated brainwaves, used to revive him, spur his mind to a higher functioning. Gerald struggles with his increased abilities and reconciling lost relationships. His is a tale of coming of age, falling in love, and self-discovery.

Rabbit in a Bottle

By Jim Patrick Guyer

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2013 Jim Patrick Guyer
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4772-8043-0

Contents

Chapter 1. – Saturday, the Day I Died.....................1Chapter 2. – Tuesday's Phoenix............................23Chapter 3. – Wednesday's Rendezvous.......................67Chapter 4. – Thursday's Challenge.........................87Chapter 5. – Friday's Tempest.............................113Chapter 6. – Saturday's Festival..........................131Chapter 7. – The Sunday After.............................173Chapter 8. – Monday's Remorse.............................187Chapter 9. – Tuesday's Games..............................207Chapter 10. – Wednesday's Gambit..........................219Chapter 11. – Thursday's Burden...........................239Chapter 12. – Friday's Memorium...........................269Chapter 13. – Saturday Bowl...............................277Epilogue........................................................297

Chapter One

Saturday, the Day I Died

The Accident

- I don't remember the accident at Lake Sullivan, or anything else before that. I have heard that I enjoyed water sports, but I never showed much interest in them after I died. –

Gerald Camden leaned his body deep into a curve as his skis cut across the surface of the water. John steered the boat toward the dock, then cut a narrow arc to slingshot Gerald close to the pier. Gerald glanced over at his mother. She was saying something to his father. Christine Camden turned toward her son and put her hands around her mouth, trying to shout above the noise of the motor. Gerald cupped a hand to his ear, but he couldn't make out the words. Christine pointed off to the side.

Gerald saw the pier and realized he had held on to the tow rope too long. He dropped the handle and skidded across the surface. He gauged the distance and the angle of his approach. With a slight adjustment, he could miss it completely. He steered his skis gently to the side as his momentum started to run out. The turn wasn't sharp enough. He adjusted the angle of his skis, but without the tow rope, it was difficult to keep his weight balanced. One ski sank lower in the water and dragged his foot back. Gerald teetered forward and turned as he fell. The side of his head struck the corner post. There was a brilliant flash and then his world went black.

Sisters

- I was always curious about the old Gerald and how he felt about Tammy. Was he in love? Was it just a casual thing? I wish I could have known him. I would love to have sat and talked to him about a lot of things. Unfortunately that could never happen, for we were destined never to meet. –

Tammy Wells sat alone at a table in the library. She was the girl with all the curves. Her large black curls offset the white skin of her neck. She had large, round, dark blue eyes that gave her an innocent appearance. She noticed her two sisters, Violet and Jean, coming through the door. Jean had sandy brown hair, while Violet's was jet black. Pretty girls, Tammy thought, but not quite as cute as herself. They weren't really sisters, even though they had called themselves that since grade school. The triangle made up their own exclusive little sorority, and Tammy was their ringleader. She liked having them as her consorts. They made a sort of barrier between her and the rest of the world. Tammy became a bit puzzled by the seriousness of their expressions and the tight, excited way they walked toward her. Something was up. Something big.

"Sisters!" she said to them. "What is it? It can't be that bad."

The girls took seats on either side of her. Jean was the first to speak. "It is bad. It's very bad."

"It's Gerald," Violet continued for her.

"Gerald?!" Tammy smiled faintly. "He's not going to dump me, is he?" She added a tone of sarcasm to her voice, as if to suggest that the idea was unthinkable. In the end, it came out sounding insecure.

"No, no! Nothing like that," Jean cut in. "He's in the hospital."

"He's in the hospital? What happened to him?"

"He was in a boating accident," Violet explained.

"How bad is he?"

"He's like, brain dead or in a coma—something like that." Jean shook her head. "I am not really sure which one it is, or what any of it means."

Tammy shook her head. "I really don't know, either. I mean, I've seen it in movies and stuff. I know that it means you sleep a long time, but I don't understand more than that. Poor Gerald! I suppose I should go see him."

"He's in ICU. They have him on a ventilator," Jean said. "You know," she made a pointing motion toward her throat, "where they put that tube down your throat to make you breathe."

Tammy shuddered, "Ugh! That kind of stuff creeps me out. Maybe I'll wait. Right now, he wouldn't even know I was there. I'll send him a card for now, and then go see him when he's awake." Tammy paused to think. "How long do you think he'll be asleep?"

Jean shrugged, "It might be a long time. I've heard that people who go into a coma can stay that way for years."

"Prom is in a few months," Tammy said slowly. "I guess I may be spending prom night wearing a corsage and sitting in the hospital with my boyfriend."

"That's not going to do him any good," Violet offered. "Why don't you just go with someone else?"

"Sure," Jean agreed. "If he's in a coma, it's not going to make any difference to him, anyway."

"No, I can't do that." Tammy shook her head. "That wouldn't be right. He's still my boyfriend." She was quiet for a moment, "I suppose that was pretty selfish of me to be thinking of prom, while he may be lying there dying."

"No!" Jean hissed. "Don't be silly! It's perfectly natural. I mean, I'm sorry this happened, too, but there's no point in anyone throwing their whole life away over it."

"She's right," Violet patted Tammy's hand, "you're just going through a turbulent time right now. Things are going to be a little off-track for a while. You'll snap back."

"Yeah," Tammy said, gazing off in the distance, "I guess you're right."

Pulling the Plug

- I don't blame the doctors. How were they to know? Actually, I feel a bit guilty over it. I am sure my case caused them some embarrassment. –

"Your son is not in a coma," Dr. Baker said gently. "He is brain dead. The two are not the same. With a coma, there is still some measure of neurological function and a recovery is possible. Your son has no brain activity. There is no chance of recovery."

Christine wept quietly as she gazed down at the body of her son lying in the hospital bed. It seemed as if there were tubes and wires entering every inch of his body. Her husband stood next to her, his hand on her shoulder. They listened as Dr. Baker patiently explained the meaning of "brain dead," as well as the techno-babble that described all of the tests that had been done to confirm it. She felt a desperate desire to yank out all the tubes and wires, then scoop him up to run away with him. The doctor's voice faded into a distant drone. She didn't understand half of what he said, but she knew what it meant. Her son was gone, and he wasn't ever coming back.

"The insurance will only pay for a week in a case where there is no hope of recovery."

"I don't care what it costs," John answered firmly.

"Yes, yes, of course; that is a natural reaction, and it is one that I would recommend, if there was any hope at all. Unfortunately, there is none. You will bankrupt...