San Fransisco-1954
There's something wrong with me.
It was a terrible realization to come to and it had been Adaline's constant worry for the past year. She'd been searching for answers ever since that fateful encounter with the policeman, ever since that day she'd finally had to face the truth. She'd realized then what she'd already known deep down for some time: she was not aging anymore. She'd been used to the stares and confusion and the envy from other woman over her 'youthful' appearance but she'd been trying to convince herself she was just aging very gracefully. But facing that officer she knew she could not hide from the truth any longer. Whatever this was could land her in some very danger and she needed to find some answers about what was causing it.
Finding those answers had led her to her current position at the medical college. Her employment there allowed her to make full use of the medical library which she often took advantage of in her spare time. There, she dug up every book and article and resource she could get on aging. She read everything from those sources that were reputable all the way down to those that were questionable but none of them had shed any light on her own situation. In all of her research she had not found even one reported case that was even close to being similar to her own. Nothing she had found in any of her studies had even given her a hint of what may have stopped her aging normally.
At this point she was growing discouraged. Every day she felt less and less hopeful that she would ever get answers to her questions. As her hope drained away she felt herself growing afraid and desperate. That police officer may have been the first one to seriously question her appearance but he would not be the last. Others would follow and eventually they would find out the truth about her. She found herself having nightmares of the things she imagined they would do to her if they knew. After all, agelessness was a thing many people desired and they would do whatever was necessary to discover its cause so they could replicate it. Since she already knew the answers were not to be found in books she knew they would look elsewhere. They would study her.
These days she was only comforted by the knowledge that Flemming was away at college. She missed her daughter terribly but until she could find out what was going on and reverse it, it was safer for there to be distance between them. It was good for Flemming to be in a different town with her own separate life. Adaline knew she could never disconnect them completely but at least now maybe there would be the appearance that they were not close. If the unthinkable should happen maybe this perceived detachment would spare Flemming scrutiny and questioning.
Adaline hated that their being seen together in public called so much attention to her problem. It had gotten to the point that everyone who knew them and saw them together now suspected something strange was going on. Even with strangers, Adaline was getting to the place where she hesitated to admit they were mother and daughter, a denial that was terribly painful. All they had right now between them were phone calls and that was not nearly enough. She wanted to see Flemming but she couldn't do it while there was any risk she might be putting her daughter in any danger. This had added even more pressure to her search. The sooner she figured out what was wrong with her the sooner she could be with Flemming again and the sooner life would go back to normal.
Today was a pretty ordinary day at work for Adaline. There was a conference being held this week at the college with several dozen doctors from all over the country in attendance. She had found herself very busy last week helping with preparations for the conference but now that it was underway things for her were slowing down and getting back to normal. Mostly she found her thoughts were on her own personal dilemma today. She had been feeling so depressed lately that she hadn't done any of her own research in over a week. She was contemplating whether or not she should even continue. She was thinking it might be time to admit defeat and learn how to live without the answers she wanted. Maybe a normal life was going to be forever out of her reach.
Her boss came up to her desk and interrupted her bleak thoughts. With him was a man in a white coat, one of the visiting doctors.
"Ms. Bowman this is Dr. Morgan one of our conference attendees. He just arrived in town."
"No thanks to several plane delays and cancellations. I'm not sure I'll ever get use to traveling this way," Dr. Morgan said with a warm smile, despite his obvious frustration.
Adaline found herself staring at him. There was something about him that commanded her attention for some reason that she couldn't identify. It wasn't just that he was good looking (though he was gorgeous); she felt some sort of strange restlessness or urgency around him, like there was something important she had forgotten. And when he had spoken his voice had sounded familiar though she wasn't sure why. It sounded like he had an English accent and she had never known anyone from there before.
She realized all of a sudden that her boss and Dr. Morgan were looking at her expectantly like maybe they had asked a question or were otherwise waiting on a response from her. She blushed when she realized how openly she was gawking at the man and how rude she must seem. She stood up from her desk and forced a smile. "I'm sorry?"
"I was just saying I'm relieved to finally be here. Coming from New York made for a long trip."
"Well, welcome to San Francisco, Dr. Morgan," she said holding out her hand and trying to be polite even while her thoughts were still running.
"Thank you," he said smiling all the wider and shaking her hand. "I've actually never been here before," he remarked like it was a really surprising thought.
Adaline's thoughts were still racing as the three of them made small talk about the conference and the city. Maybe she was taken in because the man was so charming and friendly. Some people were just like that; they had a certain pull about them that just drew people in. And she wouldn't presume to act as though she was beyond being attracted to a good looking man; she wasn't that old yet. Maybe that was all this was. She would have blamed it on either one those two things if it weren't for the fact that she was getting a definite feeling of Deja Vu. She couldn't help feeling she had forgotten something very important. But why should she feel this way? This man just admitted that he'd never been to San Francisco and she'd spent her whole life here or in the surrounding suburbs.
Surprisingly, he must have sensed something familiar about her too. "Have we met before?" he asked, his eyes especially focused on her face.
"No. I don't think we have," she said, as calmly as she could manage. But her hands were starting to shake slightly as she got him a welcome packet and registration form.
Thankfully, he didn't notice this and he didn't press her further. He must be thinking he'd mistaken her for someone else. She was the only one who knew he hadn't.
The pieces had finally fallen into place in her mind. Doctor. English accent. Warm and friendly personality. New York. She finally knew now why he seemed so familiar and why at the core of her she felt so unsettled by it.
Adaline could barely focus on her work for the rest of the day she was so preoccupied with thoughts of Dr. Morgan.
She had to be wrong. There was no way there could be any truth to what she was thinking. Her mind was surely playing tricks on her. The memory she thought she had of him was so long ago and had been so brief there was no way she could actually be remembering him. It had to have been someone else. Yet, when she had seen his face her mind had eventually focused back on that brief visit to that New York clinic when Flemming had been a child. She had absolutely no reason for thinking of that day unless the sight of him had triggered it.
But that had been almost 20 years ago. If he were the same man he would be much older. This Dr. Morgan was a young man, too young to have been practicing medicine 20 years ago. Unless…he was struggling with the same thing she was and was a lot older than his appearance suggested. But that was how she knew she must be fooling herself. She had become so obsessed with her search for answers that now she was imagining she'd found someone like her. It was just a little too convenient that at the point where she felt she at the end of her rope another ageless person should just happen to materialize in her front of her. It couldn't be true.
Still, she couldn't deny the excitement she felt as she considered the possibility that Dr. Morgan might have some of the answers she was so desperately seeking. If her memory served her correctly, and he was the same man she had met back then, he looked the same as he had that day in 1937. If that was really true it meant he must be like her and if he was like her he might have some of the answers she longed for. She was sure it was all too crazy to be true but wasn't her own life too crazy to be true? The things that were happening to her were unbelievable and yet they were still true so there was a chance this could be too.
But what if she was wrong? That memory was so long ago how could she be certain? She couldn't and, with a sinking feeling, she knew that unless she was absolutely certain she could never confess such a thing to this stranger. She didn't even know if she could trust him or not. She could only voice her own secret if she knew for a fact that he had the same one. He may very well be just like her and if he were he might have answers but that was just too big a gamble to make. She may be completely wrong and then she'd have blown her cover. She may feel like she was on borrowed time here but at least for the time being she was safe and she wasn't going to throw that away. She knew nothing about Dr. Morgan and it would just have to stay that way.
She convinced herself it was only wishful thinking anyway. She was just lonely and wishing she had someone with which to share this struggle and that was making her grasp at straws. Apparently, she had become so discouraged by her lack of answers that her mind was now constructing a fantasy for her in which a person with all the answers just happened to walk right into her life. But it was ridiculous and she wouldn't allow herself to think this way anymore. She would just have to dust herself off and get back up. She decided to continue her research that night and with a renewed determination. After all, if she was going to get answers she would have to find them; no one was coming to give them to her.
But even with this new resolve she couldn't help but feel she was going to regret letting Dr. Morgan go without speaking to him.
There was something strange about Ms. Bowman.
When Henry met her earlier he had thought she looked a little familiar but when she denied having met him before he thought he must have been mistaken. It wouldn't be the first time. After living for so many years and meeting so many people all the faces tended to get jumbled in his memory.
He would have forgotten about it entirely if he hadn't run into her a second time. Later in the day he had seen her walking down the hallway towards him. He had been about to smile and wave at her but then he had watched as she had spotted him and then had immediately looked down. She'd kept her gaze determinedly on the ground until she had walked passed him. It was very clear that she hadn't wanted to acknowledge him and wanted it to seem she had not even seen him. She was obviously avoiding him but for what reason? He recalled their brief conversation that morning but he was certain there was no cause for her to be upset or offended by any of his behavior.
He was almost sure now, despite her earlier denial, that they had met before. But why would she lie about it? She could have forgotten they'd met but her determination not to have to speak to him that second time didn't support that. No, she had a reason for not wanting to talk to him and that made him almost certain they'd met before and something about it had upset her. He'd been trying to recall a previous encounter with her all day but without success. He just could not think of where he'd seen her before or what had given her cause for pretending they had not met.
He was at the college late that evening trying to catch up on the first day's work that he'd missed. He shook his head thinking about the hassle he'd had traveling by plane. This relatively new mode of transport was definitely not his preferred method. It seemed to be nothing but a headache.
He had finally finished his work and was heading out when he heard Ms. Bowman's voice. He was surprised she was still at work considering the late hour. He knew he shouldn't but he felt himself stopping to listen at the door to her office when he heard the distressed tone in her voice.
It sounded like she was on the phone with someone. He could only hear half the conversation but the person on the other end must be upset.
"I miss you too, honey," she soothed. "I don't know when I'll be back. I know. I'm trying to fix this. You know I can't come back until I do."
Henry found himself perplexed by this conversation. It only added to mystery surrounding Ms. Bowman and the draw he felt to know more about her. He suddenly felt it was vital he figured out how they had previously met.
She sounded on the verge of tears when she spoke again. "Flemming, darling, it will be alright."
That was the moment it hit him. Hearing that phrase and how it was pierced with intense love and concern made that elusive memory come rushing back to Henry. He had heard this exact phrase before, spoken in this voice, with that same inflection; it was a phrase of comfort from a mother to her daughter. Henry felt a little faint and had to grab at the wall for support as the weight of this information hit him.
No wonder it had taken him so long to place where he had met her. It had been a brief encounter and it had been so very long ago. But that posed a thought that soon had his head quite literally spinning. He had met Ms. Bowman and her young daughter when he'd had his own practice. He couldn't remember exactly what year it had been but he knew it had to be a long time ago; it must have been before the war because that was when he'd quit it and signed up for the service.
But how could that be? That had been so long ago and yet he recognized her. That had been so long ago and yet she still looked the same. How could that be? He knew exactly how it could be. She could look exactly the same as she did back then for the same reason he looked exactly as he did back then. Henry had hoped for a long time he might meet someone like him but he never had. Was it possible that now it was finally happening?
"Sweetheart, you're in college and I want you to enjoy yourself. I don't want you worrying about me. I'm just fine," she said softly and with reassurance.
It was undeniable. He could not mistake that motherly tone; it was the same one he'd heard all those years ago. Ms. Bowman had been so loving and openly affectionate with her daughter and it had made an impression on him then and it did now. Now this woman, this same woman, with this exact same face, had a daughter in college. It was impossible. Unless…
He almost didn't dare hope for it, lest he be disappointed. It was very possible that he was connecting dots that he only wished existed. Maybe she was just aging really well. No, that was a lie. He knew it because he'd used it. How many times had he explained away others' curiosity by crediting his youthful appearance to 'good genes'?
He felt like he couldn't be wrong about this. What reason could he possibly have for recalling that distant memory if the sight of her had not prompted it? There was no other reason he should have thought of that day. He didn't often follow his gut feelings; he couldn't. But sometimes you just had to have a little faith.
In her office Ms. Bowman was wrapping up her conversation. "You know how much I love you, right? Alright. Good. Take good care of yourself and I'll talk to you soon."
Henry knew he had to at least try and see if there was any merit to his suspicions. He had waited so long to have even the chance at this possibility that it made him feel a little reckless.
When he entered the room Ms. Bowman was sitting at her desk with her face in her hands. She was clearly upset and did not hear him approach. He didn't want to startle her so he cleared his throat as quietly as he could to get her attention.
She was still surprised. She looked up quickly and he saw tears in her eyes. He felt briefly guilty for bothering her at such a time but he knew it was now or never. He had to know if this crazy idea he was thinking was right or not and if he didn't do this now he would lose his nerve.
"Dr. Morgan," she greeted, sounding very tired. She quickly brushed her hands across her face and forced a smile as she stood. "I'm sorry I didn't realize anyone else was here. Is there something I can do for you?"
"Is everything alright? You seem upset."
"Oh, it's nothing," she said waving a hand in the air but the distress that was still evident on her face removed any lightness she was trying to convey. He could also see a hint of worry and he could guess at its meaning; she had thought she was alone and now worried he might have overheard something that revealed too much.
"Are you sure?" he asked with concern.
"Yeah. I just got a call from …a friend who's going through a hard time. But she'll be alright. In time."
Ms. Bowman didn't offer any further explanation and Henry let the matter drop.
As he looked at her now it was like he was seeing her with new eyes. Often times he felt that it must be so obvious to others that there was something odd about him. He was sure there must be some physical sign on him that screamed out immortal. Of course, there wasn't which he could see for himself now that, for the very first time, he found himself looking at another one. Nobody would be able to tell just by looking at her that there was anything out of the ordinary about Ms. Bowman.
But it was obvious to him because he knew all the subtle signs to look for. He had noticed that slight pause when she'd referred to the person on the other end of the phone as 'a friend.' He could see the hesitation she had felt in sharing any information with him about that conversation. He could see the desperation she felt to conceal anything that might give her away. He had never glimpsed this immortality dilemma from the outside in before but doing so now he felt he could know her thoughts, struggles, and fears. After all, they were the same ones he had.
If there had been any doubt left in his mind at all about whether or not she shared his affliction it would have been gone the second he glanced down at the materials on her desk. There were several books opened up and papers all over her desk and every one in sight had something to do with aging. It was almost like he was looking back at one of his own memories. How many times over the years had he thrown himself into this very same research? He knew it then that Ms. Bowman was trying to figure out why she wasn't aging anymore. He had never known what it was like to feel someone understood what he went through but in this moment he a felt slight connection of understanding between them.
She saw where his gaze had landed and started to slowly close the books and clear up her stuff in a way that suggested she was trying not to be obvious about it. A heavy awkwardness fell between since neither had spoken for several moments and she very clearly wished he was not there.
"Interesting subject matter," he found himself blurting out boldly pointing to the very information she was trying to conceal. He felt a desperate eagerness to begin a conversation with her about this. "It seems a strange thing to have you researching."
"Oh, it's not for work. It's just a personal curiosity."
"You're here at almost 9:00 in the evening; that doesn't sound like a casual interest."
"It's really not a big deal," she said, starting to sound a little irritated. "I just prefer to work when it's quiet. When there's nobody here." She added the last bit with emphasis.
"Seeking eternal youth?"
She laughed but it was humorless. "Not at all."
He recognized it for what it was; it was the response of a person who did not want it because they already had it. She was on a search out of it; not towards it. He could also see he was making her uncomfortable. He had meant to be drawing her out with his questions but maybe he was coming on too strong. She was already starting to shut down and since he knew exactly what it felt like to be scared in the way she was right now he hurried to try and put her at ease.
"It is a subject that I've studied quite extensively myself over the years," he said giving her a very loaded look in an attempt to subtly show his hand a bit.
This seemed to make a slight impact on her. She seemed to understand his meaning. Or at the very least she didn't still feel threatened by him. He tried to see if there was any recognition at all in her expression. Did she not remember that they had met before? Could she not see that they were alike?
"Have you made any interesting discoveries?" she asked. He could tell she was trying to sound casual but he could hear the hope in her voice.
"Unfortunately, I haven't. Not the one I want the most anyway."
She was silent for a moment taking that in. "That's too bad," she said looking cautious.
"It is discouraging at times but I'm still looking," he said positively. She nodded her head in understanding.
Henry could practically feel the electricity between them. They were so close to admitting the truth. He had no doubt about her any more they just had to admit it to each other.
"Earlier it seemed like you were familiar to me. Are you sure we haven't met before?" he asked.
She averted her eyes. "Yes, I'm sure."
Henry felt himself almost growing frantic as she continued to refuse. He had waited so many years for something like this to happen. Well over 100 years he'd been like this and alone. He wanted so much to be able to share this with someone who could understand.
But he wasn't surprised by her reluctance. He didn't blame her at all for being so cautious. When you had a secret like this you guarded it fiercely. Only a monumental event could challenge such a vow of secrecy. Of course, a logical solution to this problem was for him to admit first that he was immortal and let her follow. But, unfortunately, he knew himself far too well to believe he would do that. Keeping his secret was too deeply ingrained in him that he could not force the words out. He didn't tell anyone unless he had to tell them.
"You've never been to New York City before?" he asked.
"I haven't."
He knew that must be a lie. Did she not realize what this could mean for them? It occurred to him then that she might be refusing not because she didn't understand or was afraid but because she just didn't want it. Even if they were both the same maybe she wasn't looking for a confidant like he was. He had been so eager to speak with her he hadn't even thought she might not feel the same. It was heartbreaking to think that she might not want to know him even if she knew they were alike.
"Are you sure we haven't met before?" he asked one last time. He was begging at this point he knew but he tried as hard as he could to imply in his tone that he was certain they had met so she would feel comfortable admitting it. If only she said 'yes' he knew he could take the leap and say the rest. He wished he was the kind of man that had the courage to just come out and say it without having to rely on her to take the first step. But, sadly, he knew he was not that man.
She wouldn't look at him when she finally gave her answer. "I'm quite sure we have never met before and I beg you to please not ask me again."
He knew he was being dismissed. Her voice was steady and determined but underneath he could hear she was afraid. He knew that fear all too well and he wouldn't torment her any further. It had been unfair of him to lay the responsibility of this on her anyway. He already felt the self-loathing coming on for being such a coward when so much was on the line.
As a last ditch effort he found himself doing something he never did. He reached for a pen and a piece of paper and wrote his name and phone number on it. "I'm sorry for the misunderstanding and for taking up so much of your time. This is my home number. If you change your mind and decide you want to talk about…anything, please give me a call." With that he turned and left her.
Henry avoided her for the rest of the conference. He was sure she was doing her best to avoid him as well because they never once crossed paths again after that night. Both of them second-guessed themselves over the next few days wondering if they had made the right choice by staying silent but neither one did anything about it. After a few days Henry left San Francisco and even though he had left her his number he had no hope she would use it. He wouldn't if the tables were reversed. He was convinced he'd never hear from Ms. Bowman again and he determined to put her and his disappointment out of his mind.