The Boy With The 40 Year Old Brain

By Ken Coleman

Tom is a brain dead boy. His young mother, Rose, is beset with grief knowing that she has lost the son she dotes on. However, she is given hope when a brilliant neurologist tells her he can restore her son's brain to something close to normality. The unsuspecting mother gives her permission for him to operate on her son. little does she know that he is actually experimenting on brain transplants in order to, eventually, place the brain of a very rich paedophile into the young, healthy body of an orphan boy. The surgeon needs the woman's son to further his experiments, planning to attempt to transplant the brain of a 40 year old heart attack victim into the child as a test case.
When the experiment on Rose's son turns out to be a complete success, even the surgeon is surprised. However, the problems for the man inside the child are just beginning. Apart from having to cope with the child's tactile and over affectionate mother, who in actual fact is younger than he is. He must also battle against the feelings he develops for her which are a little more than the love of a son for his mother. commendably, he manages to hide his true feelings despite some hilarious positions he finds himself in.
This is not predominantly a love story however. It is the story of a boy's quest to stop a billionaire paedophile from murdering East European orphan boys for his own evil ends.
The man/child, his beautiful mother, her dysfunctional sister, the boy's nurse and the strange girl from next door, join forces to take a journey of attrition in order to foil the plans of an evil industrialist who plans to have his own brilliant brain transplanted into the head of a healthy young orphan boy. Along the way they come across some unlikely and strange characters as well as discovering their own true identities. A sometimes, sad, often hilarious story with some, hopefully unexpected, twists, of love, adventure and ultimate tragedy

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ken Coleman
• Release date: Sep 2, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476434377

Ken Coleman

Ken Coleman is the talk radio host of The Ken Coleman Show. Ken's show has been seen on The O’Reilly Factor, Hannity, The Daily Show, Colbert Report, NBC Nightly News, Fox News, CNN, Good Morning America, CBS This Morning, Fox & Friends, and in The Washington Post, Los Angeles Times, and London's Daily Mail. Ken has published articles with The Huffington Post and Success Magazine. Ken has been called a “young Charlie Rose” by legendary Duke basketball coach Mike Krzyzewski, and talk radio superstar Dave Ramsey has labeled him "one of the best interviewers in the country." Ken's invigorating and insightful commentary combine with acclaimed interview skills to make him one of broadcasting’s rising stars. Most importantly, Ken is blessed to be Stacy's husband and Daddy to Ty, Chase, and Josie. Follow Ken on Twitter @kencoleman.

Book preview

ONE

There were no windows to illuminate the corridor along which the young woman walked. It was lit instead, by lamps placed at strategic intervals along the walls. The meagre lighting left dark shadowy shapes where a child’s imaginative mind might think strange creatures lurked. The lighting of the corridor had possibly been designed to convey a calm and tranquil ambience and to ensure that anyone walking along it would respect the sanctity and quiet of the hospital. To her mind, however, the atmosphere was positively gloomy, which was not surprising considering her own dark mood of late. She walked on bare feet displaying all the grace and bearing of a ballerina. Her stiletto heel shoes had been removed, because wearing them and clip clopping along the silent corridor, would, she felt, seem like an act of disrespect. She had looped the straps of the shoes over three hooked fingers of her left hand, whilst her right hand gripped the short strap of a large brown leather bag that hung from her shoulder. The knuckles of her right hand were white, so intense was her grip on the strap. Though she usually wore a small amount of makeup on her normally, beautiful face, it was now devoid of makeup and showed signs of stress and anxiety. She appeared to have a permanent frown and her dark, brown eyes were dull and tired looking. A look of intenseness was reflected in a face that though normally clear and unlined, now, looked drawn and pale.

TWO

In one of the many small rooms situated along the corridor, a boy lay apparently asleep in his hospital bed. His bandaged head was all that was visible above the white sheet, the top of which had been turned down over the blanket which covered his small body.

As the woman approached the room, the door opened and a strange looking man emerged. He was a small, dapper, man, wearing a dark blue suit over a white shirt, which was complemented by a light blue tie. His black shoes were so highly polished, that they actually reflected the diffused lighting in the corridor. He had greying hair and a grey goatee beard, which might have looked distinguished had it not been for the fact that he had no chin as such. His long thin neck seemed to finish just below his bottom lip, probably the reason for the beard. If so, it was not much of a disguise. In fact, it added to his bizarre look. His long thin nose and small glittering green eyes below bushy grey and black eyebrows gave him the appearance of a vulture. Indeed, as he spied the woman approaching, he bobbed his head two or three times and she got the feeling he was sizing her up as his next meal.

‘Ah, Mrs Marriot,’ he said jovially. He spoke with a voice that was unusually deep and rich for such a small man.

‘No change I’m afraid. But we are not disheartened are we?’ He stated his words as a matter of fact rather than a question.

‘As you know,’ he continued. ‘We fully expected a substantial period of time to elapse during the recovery stage and every day there are positive signs. All the tests that we have conducted are showing that a full recovery is imminent.’

The young woman sighed and her tired eyes became shiny and moist. She hated the way he used the word we as though he were speaking for both of them. She certainly did not share all his views. However, because she did not want to rock the boat and because she owed him a huge debt of gratitude for saving her son’s life, she was prepared to put up with his insufferable mannerisms.

‘Thank you Doctor Carson. But I just don’t know how much more of this I can take. You would think that I would be accustomed to being disappointed after all this time. But it’s just as hard to bear as it ever was.’

‘Let’s not get downhearted Mrs Marriot. As you know, there is evidence to substantiate R.E.M. Which as I have explained is a good sign? It shows that the brain is functioning and all the tests prove that it is functioning normally. He could wake up any time and when he does, you will, for all intents and purposes, have your son back.’

‘For all intents and purposes, what does that mean?’

‘Nothing sinister Mrs. Marriot, I assure you. I have already explained and prepared you for the fact that when your son finally emerges from the coma, he will, most probably have no recollection of his previous life and therefore he will not know you. Obviously, you will want to be the first person he sees when he regains consciousness and it would be most advantageous to his, and indeed, your benefit, that you are. That way you can form an immediate attachment with each other. Hopefully, he should recognise your voice in any case. That is why these visits must continue with the same regularity and punctuality as they always have done. Why also, you must continue to read and talk to him continuously whilst you are with him. He may be in a coma, but there‘s an excellent chance that he is hearing your voice and absorbing what you are saying.’

She looked at the doctor without really seeing him and gave a weak smile.

‘You’re right of course and I know that I appear to be having negative thoughts. But no matter how downhearted I might occasionally seem, I will never give up hope. It is just that every time I get here hoping for some good news. I am greeted with the same words; No change I’m afraid. Well, with all due respects doctor, after ten months or so, seven days a week, I’m afraid it begins to gets a little tedious.’

He bobbed his head a couple of times and his prominent Adam’s apple bobbed in unison. Then he cleared his throat with a short cough.

‘I regret that you feel that way Mrs. Marriot. If there were any way that I could greet you with better news, I would do everything in my power to do so. You must understand that he has gone through a groundbreaking procedure. The operation was so delicate that the chances of success were at best fifty, fifty. Now we are increasingly hopeful that your son will make a full recovery. When we brought him in, that scenario was at best hopeful but to be brutally honest, very slim. However, given time, I am convinced that you will have your child back intact and apart from possible memory loss, in perfect health.’

The woman looked sheepishly at the doctor. Her voice became a little husky when she spoke.

‘I did not mean to appear ungrateful Doctor Carson I will always be grateful for what you have done for me…for both of us. You have given me a renewed will to carry on with my life. After what happened to Tom so soon after David’s death, I was, to be frank, left with nothing to live for. My son and husband were gone within just weeks of each other and had it not been for my sister, who is the only other person I really care for, I might well have decided there was no point in carrying on. At times I honestly thought that, there was only one option left to me. Therefore, you deserve my gratitude on two counts. It’s probably fair to say that had you not offered to operate on Tom and he had died. Then my own life might as well have been over.’

Carson bobbed his head again and in different circumstances, she would have found his bizarre behaviour and looks, quite amusing.

‘That is as good a reason as any to remain optimistic Mrs. Marriot. Now, I believe there is a young man waiting for you to read him a story. Go in there with a smile on your face and appositive tone of voice. Let him know that you are happy and pleased to see him.’

She smiled thinly, making an effort to disguise her irritation at the way he patronised her. Her gratitude, however, was genuine despite having to endure the company of the surgeon over a period of countless visits. Nevertheless, she felt no fondness for Doctor Carson. She despised the way he spoke down to her and hated his formality and austere demeanour.

Still, she thought. At least his formality means he insists on calling me by my married name. I would hate it if he addressed me as Rose, rather than Mrs Marriot.

‘I am always genuinely happy to see him doctor,’ she said trying to hide her hostility. ‘I certainly do not need to put on an act.’

‘Of course’ he said gruffly and a little sheepishly. ‘I’ll leave you to it.’

With that, he turned on his heel and strode off down the corridor.

Rose pondered on her attitude towards Carson and experienced a slight feeling of guilt as she watched him walking away with his heels clicking on the hard tiles on the floor of the corridor. Such an arrogant and hypocritical man, she thought. Any reasonable idea of respecting the sanctity of the hospital and the silence never even seemed to enter his head.

However, she did not dwell on it. Instead, she turned; opened the door and entered the room. Then, after closing it, she leaned back against the door with her head bowed needing to gather her thoughts. She felt mentally and physically exhausted as though she had just finished running a marathon. The two visits a day, seven days a week, for the last ten months, had taken their toll on what were normally, her extremely high physical attributes and very active mind. Nowadays, she just seemed to go through the motions and her mind had dulled from the same intransigent routine.

Slowly, she raised her head and looked through her tired, tearful eyes at the small form in the bed. A wave of maternal anxiety overcame her, mingled with pity at the sight of his tiny shape. However, a renewed optimism replaced her sad demeanour, as was the case every time she saw him and she felt better with a renewed hope.

He looked so small and lonely laying there in that clean and tidy bed in this clean and tidy room, this uncompromising prison, which smelled of disinfectant and soap.

She approached the bed and gazed at his sweet face. He looked so angelic and peaceful that she wanted to weep. However, she knew that she would not. She had done so much of that in the last ten months that she felt as though she was all cried out. Now she wanted to apply her mind solely to bringing her son back from his long sleep.

She stooped and gently kissed his cheek. Then in a soft voice, which carried easily in the quiet of the room, she spoke.

‘Hello Poppet,’ she said using her pet name for him.

‘I’m back to bore you with more small talk and stories.’

She placed her shoes by the side of the bed. Then she removed the bag from her shoulder and opened it. After rummaging through the contents, she removed an umbrella, which she placed on the floor by her shoes and then a thick paperback book which she held up in front of his closed eyes as though he could see.

‘I’ve managed to get the latest Harry Potter Tom,’ she said enthusiastically.

‘I had one heck of a job to find it though. Everywhere I tried had sold out. I must have been to every bookstore around and none of them had it in stock. Luckily, I met James’s mum in town, you know; Mrs. Toomey and she told me that she had ordered it for James at Bookers Books next to the market but his dad had already bought him a copy. So we went to Bookers and they still had it put by, so I was able to buy it. Isn’t that lucky Poppet?’

She stared intently at his face for a few moments, looking for a reaction to her voice. His eyelids twitched very slightly causing a smile to momentarily flicker over her full lips. This small reaction had happened frequently over the last few weeks so there was no surprise. At least it was a good sign, as Doctor Carson never tired of informing her.

She talked incessant triviality and read to him from the new Harry Potter novel for the next three and a half hours. Breaking off only momentarily to go along the corridor to relieve herself and buy a coffee from a vending machine.

At nine thirty in the evening, she placed the book on top of the bedside cabinet. Then she picked up her bag and leaned over to kiss his cheek. She stared at his face lovingly. Then softly whispered,

‘Bye darling, see you tomorrow.’ She failed to notice his eyelids flickering rapidly. Nor the way the corners of his mouth twitched as though suppressing a smile.

As soon as she had left the room, the boy opened his eyes and pulled himself up to a sitting position. Reaching out, he pressed a button on the wall and eventually a nurse came in with a couple of sandwiches and a soft drink on a tray, which she placed on the bed before him.

He reached out greedily and took a sandwich in one hand and the drink in the other.

‘Christ!’ he said in his little boy voice. ‘I hate her leaving. But it’s one hell of a relief after lying in one position trying to keep still all that time. I don’t know how I keep a straight face some times at the things she comes out with. Don’t get me wrong, I think she’s a lovely woman and absolutely gorgeous from what glimpses I’ve managed to catch of her and I love to hear her voice. But I’m starving and thirsty. I’ve been gagging for this.’

He failed to notice the amused look the nurse gave him as he gulped down a mouthful of the soft drink, and then took a bite out of a sandwich.

The nurse smiled sweetly and enquired if there was anything else she could get for him.

‘I could murder a vodka and tonic,’ he said, grinning.

She giggled and shook her head vigorously. ‘Sorry,’ she said brightly. ‘Doctors orders I’m afraid.’

‘Now how did I know you were going to say that?’

‘Just lucky I guess,’ she answered. Sometimes, she found that the vocabulary coming from such a small, angelic looking child was to say the least, bizarre. Of course, there was a reason for his unconventional behaviour and she was one of a select few who knew the secret surrounding him.

‘If there’s nothing else then,’ she said. ‘I’ll leave you to enjoy your food. Mr Carson will be here soon.’

The boy groaned at this. ‘You mean "the butcher of Birbeck,’ he said sardonically.

She gasped at this and stared at him with her mouth open in mock horror.

‘You are so naughty,’ she giggled. ‘Anyway, this is Birkbeck Hospital, not Birbeck and if you were my little boy, I think I would have to give you a good spanking for your impertinence.’

‘Ooh! Promises, promises,’ he said sarcastically. ‘That’s music to the ears of a man like me.’

She laughed again unable to fully grasp the absurdity of the mature sounding words, spilling from the lips of such a small boy. She gave him a long admonishing look before heading for the door. At the same time, the door opened and Carson entered the room. He held the door open for her and she smiled as she brushed past him.

THREE

Rose had almost reached the exit before she realized that she had left her shoes in the room by her son’s hospital bed.

I guess I can walk the three hundred yards or so to the car in my bare feet, she thought.

It’s been a warm day so it won’t be a problem. Trouble is it is very gravely in that car park. It won’t be very pleasant walking in bare feet on sharp stones.

She hesitated for a moment, undecided whether to turn back for her shoes.

It should be ok if I take it easy, she thought. I don’t really want to go all the way back to Tom’s room at this time. I know that if I go back and see him, it will be such a wrench to leave him again.

She decided to carry on to her car. However, when she reached the exit door and looked out into the night, she saw that it was raining heavily.

She groaned almost silently. Well, I suppose that settles it. I’ll have to go back for my shoes now; I will need to get my umbrella as well. She turned and made her way back the way she came.

As she turned from the main hospital corridor to enter the smaller one that led into the private wing, she found her way barred by a security gate. It was of the concertina type that unfolded out from one wall and fastened magnetically at the opposite wall. A touch pad situated on the wall controlled it.

She had never noticed this device before and to say she was taken by surprise would have been an understatement.

On the wall by the touch pad was an intercom speaker with a push button, above which was a camera lens. Something else she had never noticed before.

She realized how unobservant she had been during all the time she had been visiting Tom in this cold, uninspiring building.

Once again, she was undecided. Is it worth it? She thought. Do I really need all this hassle for a pair of shoes? Heaven knows, I’ve walked in the rain before in bare feet. How can I ever forget Los Angeles? She remembered with great fondness, the time when she and David were young bride and groom on honeymoon to Los Angeles.

David had danced in the pouring rain. He was emulating Gene Kelly’s Singing in the Rain routine along Rodeo Drive while returning to their Beverly Hills hotel. She herself had been skipping along the rain soaked pavement in her bare feet, holding her shoes in one hand whilst laughing at his antics and failed attempts at tap dancing. That, apart from the birth of her son, had been the only really happy period of her married life.

She smiled inwardly recalling the memory. Nevertheless, a single tear made its way down her cheek. Is it possible to be so sad when recalling one of the happiest times in my life? She thought.

A tinny male voice coming from the intercom suddenly brought her back to reality.

‘Can I help you?’ said the voice.

Rose was startled out of her thoughts and stared for several moments at the source of the voice.

Obviously, she had been observed loitering whilst she had been trying to make up her mind what to do. Now her mind had been made up for her.

‘I need to get back to my son’s room,’ she said a little breathily.

‘I’m sorry, visiting time finished ten minutes ago.’

‘Yes, I know,’ she said almost apologetically. ‘Look; this is terribly embarrassing, but I left my shoes in my son’s room and I need to retrieve them and also my umbrella.’

‘Just one moment’

Rose waited for several minutes and was just beginning to wonder if it was worth it, when another voice, female this time, came from the intercom.

‘Mrs. Marriot isn’t it?’

‘Yes, I was visiting my son Tom this evening and left without my shoes. I’m sorry for the inconvenience. Mr. Carson, the senior surgeon will vouch for me.’

‘No need, you are known to us. If you just hang on a few moments, someone will be down to let you in. As it’s out of hours though, you will have to be escorted to your son’s room.’

‘That won’t be a problem; it will only take a couple of seconds to get what I want. Thank you so much.’

A few moments later, a uniformed security guard appeared and proceeded to key in some numbers on the touch pad. The gate opened electronically and concertinaed neatly into a recess on the opposite wall.

The guard was quite young, twenty at the most and very tall and thin. He had a long spotty face and tufts of ginger hair protruded from the rim of the cap he wore. When he turned his back to her, she noticed that his hair curled scruffily over the collar of his jacket.

‘I’ve got to escort you,’ he mumbled sullenly. After that, he did not utter another word the whole time he was with her.

‘Ok.’ she answered. ‘Thank you.’

Rose walked past the gate and waited impatiently while he pressed a button to set the gate sliding silently back to the relocked position. Then she set off along the corridor with the spotty youth trailing in her wake.

FOUR

‘You are not doing yourself any favours,’ Carson scolded noting by the set of the boy’s jaw that he was being stubborn and openly defiant. ‘Your defiance is going to ruin all the hard work we have put in on your behalf.’

‘Well you’re not doing me any favours either Doc,’ replied the boy. ‘I’m sick of just lying in this fucking bed pretending to be asleep. I need to be up and about. I’m wasting away here. How much longer have I got to act out this stupid charade?’

‘You’re going to put up with it for as long as it takes. You know we have to convince her that she has her son back completely and with just a loss of memory. I want you to get used to her voice and memorize many of the things she says while she is here talking to you. I want you to familiarize yourself with her scent and feel the nearness of her to you and know her touch and her aura.’

‘No problem there doc, she has got to be one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen in my life.’

Carson gave the boy a reproachful look.

‘For heaven’s sake, don’t let her see you looking at her,’ he said hastily.

‘Don’t worry doc, I know when to take a peek and when to keep my eyes shut. She really is a stunner though. Whenever she bends over to kiss my cheek, I take a little squint and I get a great view of her tits. I must say, I like what I see. You don’t get many of them in a bucket.’

Carson grimaced. ‘You really need to change your attitude boy,’ he said angrily. ‘If you need a reason for not yet being ready to come out of your coma, you just provided it yourself.’

‘Alright doc, keep your wig on. I’m trying my best. But have you got any idea how hard it is for me to lie still in that bed for hours while that woman fusses over me? Ok the sedatives help but they start to wear off after a while, then it gets really hard.’

He paused for a moment and grinned. Then said, ‘and when she kisses me, that’s not all that gets hard. Imagine that doc, a seven year-old kid getting a stiffy ‘cos his mum kissed him.’

Carson gave him another angry look. He would not let this boy spoil all the hard work and dedication he and his team had put in over the past months.

FIVE

The operation had been an overwhelming and astounding success without comparison. He never dared to hope that the result of what was at best a hopeful experiment would produce such an astonishing result so soon.

The aftercare had been crucial if the success of the operation was to be ongoing, and to their credit, his team had come through with flying colours. They had kept the boy alive during the critical period with round the clock care and attention and their dedication could not be faulted.

The boy had been comatose for nearly eight months. The nurse on duty when he woke up paged Carson immediately.

Because he had been sleeping on the premises since the operation, Carson was there within minutes.

The boy’s recovery had been nothing less than astounding. Within two weeks, his speech was almost coherent. After three weeks, he was talking normally and intelligently. All his limbs worked perfectly as did his hearing and his sight. His muscles were very weak through lack of use however and a physiotherapist was working on him now that he was almost ready to face the world, or at least, to face his mother.

Face his mother! That is not strictly true, Carson thought. This is such an enigma. Strictly speaking, I suppose she is his mother. However, the reality is, he is actually older than she is.

Carson had wrestled with his dilemma since discovering that the operation had turned out to be an overwhelming success, a success that was well ahead of schedule. What to tell the boy’s mother. How could he tell her the truth? He had no way of knowing what her reaction would be. News like that could cause her to become hysterical and unpredictable. She might well inform the authorities and he wasn’t ready to face the consequences just yet. He already knew he could well be in deep water. What he had done was neither ethically nor medically justifiable.

Carson had fully expected to be explaining to the mother, the reason for her son dying on the operating table due to complications beyond his, Carson’s, control. No doubt, she would be inconsolable. However, the knowledge he and his team would have gained, would have been invaluable to his ongoing experimentation, almost certainly worth the life of one boy, a boy who was already brain dead in any case.

Performing a successful brain transplant operation would have meant great acclaim for him and his team. He might have achieved worldwide fame under normal circumstances and normal medical etiquette.

His aspirations though, went far higher than mere fame. As far as he was concerned, he had found the holy grail of medicine and it was going to bring him greater riches and power than he could ever have envisaged. To share the knowledge he had gained, with the world at large, would be like cutting off his own penis to cure aids.

He felt no remorse at having stolen the donor’s brain. He was, after all, only being kept alive by machinery. The patient’s mother though, thought he had simply repaired the boy’s brain. Thank heavens for her naivety.

So how could he then announce that he had successfully transplanted the brain of a forty-year-old man into the skull of a seven-year-old boy?

He was shaken from his thoughts by the boy’s high-pitched voice calling his name.

‘Hey Carson,’ he screeched. ‘Are you listening to me? I want to know how long I have to put up with all this pretending. How much longer have I got to lie in that fucking bed like a fucked up invalid?’

Carson glared at him angrily. He noticed that the boy had swung his legs out of bed and was now sitting on the edge of it.

‘Listen to me you ungrateful little bastard,’ he yelled. ‘I have given you a new lease of life. How many forty-year-old men do you know who get to be reborn into the fresh young body of a seven-year-old boy? Moreover, it has cost you nothing. There are people I know who are willing to pay a king’s ransom for…’

Carson stopped abruptly realizing he had said more than he intended.

‘I didn’t ask for this,’ screamed the boy. ‘Nobody asked you to play god with my life…or the boy’s for that matter.’

Carson let out a silent sigh, relieved that the boy in his anger had not seemed to notice what he had said.

‘If I had not performed the operation, you would now be dead and so would the boy,’ Carson replied. ‘I really can’t understand your ingratitude. You have been reborn; you can live your life all over again. It’s a dream come true.’

SIX

Rose heard what seemed like muffled yelling as she approached the room where her son was situated. She could not be sure, but she thought she heard Tom’s voice.

She took hold of the handle of the door with a trembling hand. Her heart was beating rapidly as turned it, but the door would not open. She tried again, and then realized that the door was locked.

The rooms here were soundproofed, so she could not be sure what was said. Nevertheless, she was positive that she had heard Carson’s muffled voice speaking, apparently very loudly, but she could not make out what he was saying.

Had she also heard Toms voice or did she imagine it? She could not be sure, but her hopes along with her heartbeat had risen rapidly.

The spotty security guard slouched against the opposite wall and looked on impassively as she banged on the door. ‘Mr. Carson! Mr. Carson!’ She called.

The shouting on the other side of the door ceased immediately and she waited impatiently to be let in.

Carson had been about to give the boy a fresh tirade when he heard the banging on the door.

‘Quickly, into bed,’ he whispered urgently.

Tom swung his legs onto the bed and shuffled down beneath the blanket.

‘I’m warning you doc,’ he said softly. ‘I’m not putting up with much more of this.’

‘We’ll talk about it later,’ Carson replied. ‘Just play along for now. Close your eyes.’

Tom reluctantly complied with Carson’s wishes as the surgeon went to open the door.

When he swung the door open, he was faced with a very agitated young woman.

By the same token, He was also less than his normal unflappable self.

‘Why Mrs. Marriot,’ he said with genuine surprise. ‘I thought you would be on your way home by now.’

‘I heard Tom’s voice,’ she said excitedly as she looked over his shoulder at the still form in the bed.

‘You and him were yelling at each other, what’s going on? Has he come round? Can I see him?’

‘Please Mrs. Marriot, calm yourself. As you can see, he is just as you left him. I assure you, the only voice you could have heard was mine.’

She pushed past him and rushed to the bed.

‘Tom…Tom,’ she whispered leaning close to his face. The boy found it difficult to suppress a smile after she twice spoke his name. ‘Are you awake darling?’ She continued. ‘Tom, please answer me.’

Carson looked on nervously. The boy had become rebellious. So the surgeon half expected him to open his eyes to the woman.

‘Mrs. Marriot,’ he said with more than a little impatience in his voice. ‘I was simply conducting an experiment. I was hoping to break through to him by feigning anger. This method has been known to get results in some cases and I thought it worth a try.’

‘Well it did work’ she insisted shakily. ‘He answered you, I know what I heard.’

‘Not so much what you heard Mrs. Marriot, as what you thought you heard. Or may I be so bold…What you wanted to hear. I believe that when you heard me yelling at the boy, you convinced yourself that you heard him answer. It was all in your head. You are so desperate for him to wake up that you auto suggested that you heard him. It is a phenomenon that happens in countless cases. I believe that because you heard me talking to him. You automatically convinced yourself that he answered me.’

She stared at him with uncertainty in her eyes. She had been convinced when she first entered this room, that she had heard Tom’s voice. Now she was not so sure. It had seemed so real. Nevertheless, Carson’s argument was very convincing and anyway, Tom was still there unconscious, exactly as she had left him. It would seem that she had been wrong. Although she was not wholly convinced, what else could she do? She felt she was left with no option than to acquiesce.

‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. ‘I guess I am just very tired. I came back for my shoes and umbrella, it’s pouring with rain. I’ll just get them and go.’

She picked up the items she came back for and started to leave. She stopped at the door and turned her head to take a last, lingering look at her son.

As she walked past the surgeon he said,’ try to get a good night’s sleep Mrs. Marriot. I’m sure you will feel better tomorrow.’

She smiled thinly and set off angrily along the corridor heading for the main hospital. She still had doubts about Carson’s argument. In her wake came the young security guard. His hands were thrust deep into his trouser pockets as he ambled along behind her.

She waited at the security gate for him to come and open it and after he did so, she strode off towards the exit without a word, leaving the spotty young man to close and lock the gate behind her.

SEVEN

The boy sat propped up by pillows on the bed. He had his hands clasped together on top of the turned over sheet and he tried to add a note of authority to his boyish voice as he spoke.

‘It’s not going to work you know. There’s no way you’re going to get away with this. She’s going to know something is wrong the minute I open my mouth. Her son’s a southerner and I’m a northerner. She’s going to spot my accent is different straight away for chri’sake.’

‘That won’t be a problem,’ Carson replied as he sat down on the chair beside the bed. ‘People have been known to come out of a coma speaking an entirely different language.’

‘Yeah right,’ scoffed the boy. ‘Anyway, that’s not the only problem doc. I’ve had a lot of time to think while I’ve been pretending to be asleep all this time and I’ve come up with some interesting revelations. Maybe you can give me some answers. You see doc, I think you’ve been wrapped up so much in the success of your little experiment that you haven’t given a lot of thought to the bigger picture.’

‘I resent the word experiment. What we performed was a controlled operation in a controlled environment.’

‘Crap! What you performed was an experiment on two guinea pigs, me and the boy. I don’t think you even expected it to work. But that didn’t matter to you did it doc. It was going to be a learning curve for when you got your grubby little paws on two more guinea pigs to experiment on. How many others have you experimented on trying to get it right? I bet I’m not the first.’

The surgeon stared at the boy with something akin to hate in his eyes. This child…man was very astute and he felt it prudent to let him speak. Protesting against his accusations would, he felt give the boy’s argument more credence. Besides, he was closer to the truth than was comfortable.

‘How were you able to get your hands on me anyway doc?’ Did you pay somebody at the mortuary?’

‘You know what happened. I told your mother I may be able to repair your brain damage.’

‘Not the boy doc…me.’

Carson groaned. Sometimes he got confused about whom he was speaking to. He spoke to the boy, but it was the man who answered.

‘Oh yes, of course,’ he said, ‘and no I haven‘t paid anyone. I resent that you would believe me to be so unethical. In truth, your wife donated your organs to medicine. Many of your organs have gone to help badly hospitalized patients enjoy a finer quality of life.’

The memory that was inside the boy’s new brain harked back to a previous life. My wife, he thought. Jesus Christ, I’ll never see her again. I can put up with that, but she was pregnant when I…He shook himself back to reality not wanting to remember. Unable to comprehend that he might be a father.

‘Not me though eh doc?’ he added. ‘I’m trapped in a body that’s totally alien to me. What right do you have to put me in this position? What right do you have to play god with two lives? Jesus Christ! How can you of all people talk about what is ethical and what is unethical?’

‘The boy’s mother begged me to do anything to save him. I had to do what I could.’

‘Bullshit! You saw an opportunity, another chance to experiment. It was only a matter of time before you got it right and then…world fame and that’s what you crave more than anything isn’t it doc? Trouble is, this experiment went far better than you could have imagined perfect in fact. Now you are stuck with a dilemma. How can you tell the world that you have successfully transplanted a man’s brain into a young boy? You’d become as notorious as Frankenstein.’

You do not know how close, or how far away you are to or from the truth, Carson thought grimly.

‘All these problems will be resolved in due course,’ he