"There is a way, but there is no guarantee."
Guarantee? Now that was one thing I hated to hear. My life was on line here and here I was, fighting off the possibility that I may not survive.
Great! Just great!
I looked at her awaiting a response but mom's eyes remained downcast.
"Mom," I called out desperately, "How do I survive?"
She shook her head slowly, as if to clear her thoughts, then she gazed at me.
"There exists only one person, who can reverse an Fenta reaction," she stated.
"OK?" I shrugged.
"The only one who may be able to solve your impending death is the one who created the raction," she mumbled to herself as I continued to stare at her in confusion.
Her pacing still hadn't stopped.
"Who is it, ma?" I asked impatiently.
"Dr.9841," she finally replied.
"Huh?" I asked, confusion lacing through my voice.
"She is the head scientist of all segments. She was the one who introduced the reaction with a ninety three percent success rate," Mom explained.
"Oh!" i exclaimed in realization, "What's her name?"
Hearing this, mom froze. I studied her as her fingers started to fidget.
"You don't know, do you?" I asked, hoping she would answer in negative.
But she sadly nodded her head and sat next to me.
"As I told you earlier, SURF is a secret, illegal organisation and to keep the details of each member confidential, no one knows the name of the other. We only know each other's designated code and position."
I sighed sadly, "Wait, how do you know the head's a female? For all we know, it could be a guy, since guys would make better geniuses," and before I could think, I heard a screech and pain surge through my arm.
"Austin Monica Moon!" She bellowed and I wished I could take back what I said, "I did not raise a child of mine to be a sexist! Which era are you from? Huh?" and hearing her say this caused me to wince.
I certainly didn't mean it that way. All I wanted to know was how she knew that and me, being the genius I am (Note my sarcasm) worded it wrong.
"Do you realize that in this decade that is since 2040, there has been a rise in the matriarchal society?" she asked.
At my look of confusion, she added, "Do you see that idiot of your father working?"
I shook my head.
"Well, he used to, but now I'm the only working member and I earn enough to support the three of us," she stated smugly.
"OK, just to clear the air, I simply wanted to inquire how you knew it was a female, that's all. Blame my poor choice of words," I grumbled.
"Oh," realization dawned on her features, "Anyways, we hold meetings at random locations to discuss our findings."
"Meetings?" I pried.
"Yes, almost every two months, we meet up in remote locations to discuss this. The last time we met was last week, Friday. And before you ask, we haven't exactly seen each other either. Last week's meeting was disguised as a masquerade ball in Sri Lanka," she clarified.
"Wait, when did you go to Sri Lanka? Private jet?" I asked. Then, before she could open her mouth, I figured it out, "The Astra Teleporting Tunnel!"
"Bingo!" she said, "Finally!"
"So tell me what you know about her?"
"Well she was very pretty and from what I saw, very talented. Probably the youngest of us. She's a brunette and was dressed in a midnight blue gown with a matching mask. That's all I know, darling."
Reluctantly, I nodded.
"So counting now, I have a total of 55 days to live?"
"Nope, counting now, you have a total of 54 ½ days to live."
I checked my watch and realized that it was past midnight.
"I have a feeling that I would fail," I expressed to mom.
She took my hands in hers and provided comforting smile, "I believe in you, my baby, you WILL live, or at least leave behind the cure for the others."
Hearing that my death wouldn't mean loss, my Atychiphobia calmed down.
"Ma, I'm hungry," I whined like a 5-year old.
"Let's get you some pancakes," she said, after sighing heavily.
"Wait, do the others know that you're fine?" I asked.
"No, it's only your dad who knows. Right now, all the others have gone home and your dad's probably downstairs, doing something manly," she smiled.
As she made pancakes, I asked her more questions.
"How was Sri Lanka? I've always wanted to go there, after-" I was cut off.
"After you read THE FORGOTTEN GREEN by your favourite author, Penelope Seasoning," she completed.
I smiled, glad that, even after four years she could read me like a book. (get it? Read me like a- you know what, never mind)
"You still remember?" I asked, slightly surprised.
"I am your mother, of course, I know, and who do you think filled your library with books of Miss Seasoning?" she asked.
"Wait, wasn't it dad? At least that's what he told me!" I laughed as her face contorted into a frown.
"Please tell me you had other gifts for your birthday from him," she asked.
And I laughed while shaking my head, "Nope only a set of Seasoning Series from dad- I mean you."
"That jerk!" she exclaimed, while I continued giggling.
"What's with the laughter?" a manly voice questioned, as my pepper-haired father made an appearance into the kitchen.
His eyes widened as they landed on mom.
"My- oh my! Look Austin, Mimi has..healed herself from chicken pox- I mean shock, which was due to that fire. Or I think your love cured her! Austin- your love has cured her!" my dad stated, pretending to worship me, thinking that his story was still believable.
After his statement, he tried to give a discrete thumbs-up and smile to mom, as a single intended to imply that he very brilliantly saved the day, which caused me to laugh loudly. Even mom burst out laughing.
At his look of confusion, I smiled, "I know."
"OK, whatever," he waved off, slightly annoyed and took a seat next to me on the kitchen counter.
That was when mom served us her very famous pancakes and flicked dad on the forehead.
"Mike!" She shouted, "I heard how our boy did not get any presents for his birthday from you."
He glared at me with his stormy grey eyes and I simply shrugged.
"Well Mimi," he started, "You see, I kinda may have forgotten his birthday and your package for him was very tempting, so I had to give it to him to see that beautiful smile of his."
This time both mom and I glared at him.
"Yeah, right," we chorused, while he grimaced.
"Like mother, like son," he grumbled and together we shared the stack of chocolate-chip pancakes, for the first time in forever, while laughing.
"Wait, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be-" my dad asked mom.
"Bed-ridden?" she teased, "Actually, I'm here because of what your son did," she continued dropping her teasing tone.
"You mean our son?" he pressed.
"No, when he acts stupid and reckless, he's your son," she continued.
"Hey! The son is still here!" I interrupted.
But, as usual, I was overlooked in their usual banter.
"What did your son do then?" he asked.
"Well, YOUR son is going to die, because of how he very idiotically drank an acid solution from my lab!" she exclaimed, no longer in mood for a banter.
Dad's face paled. "Die?" he whispered, "Wait, then why are you so calm about this?"
"Thanatophobia," she summed up the whole situation in one word.
She didn't want to stress me out and cause me to freak out by stating it like how she would have stated it; like how she wanted to say it. With tears and sobbing.
Hearing that word, my dad tried to compose himself, while my mom excused herself and dragged dad to their room. Soon after, loud sobs and sniffs became audible.
I was confused and stunned. From what I could see, mom was very strong, she hardly shed a tear when she lost her father; she hardly shed a tear, when she lost her job; she hardly shed a tear, when her son was being experimented on!
But looking back, I realized that even though I thought she didn't, she did.
Never in front of me, did mom seem sad, she put up a front so that I could feel protected, but in reality, she was just as human as any of us. Probably, being a scientist had toughened her up, hence she could keep herself in check.
But, come on who would want to lose someone dear. I would cry too.
I knew that dad was comforting her. Dad would be there for her. He was always there. I had very little time left, but there is a possibility that I could survive. I may be able to make it! I was determined to try. If not, at least I wanted to live the 54 1/4 days living out my dreams, rather than sulking!
My train of thoughts was interrupted by a bark, a rather loud bark, and before I knew it a furry brown terrier jumped into my arms. I collapsed on the floor, as it licked my face.
I laughed and almost on instinct began scratching its neck.
"Stop it, lil' brown" I giggled.
But he kept licking my face.
Suddenly, two gasps were heard. Looking at the door, I realized, mom and dad leaning against the door frame, eyes red and blotchy with shocked expressions on their faces.
At my look of confusion, mom asked, "Austin, what about your cynophobia?"
And that was when it clicked.
I was supposed to be afraid of dogs, but I wasn't?