By Jon Adcock

It was a diamond day. Sunlight cascaded from an achingly blue sky, and a faint, sweet smell of honeysuckle floated in the air. Sara, a young woman in her 20s, put her tablet next to her on the bench and took it all in. The park was full of young couples enjoying the holiday and the warm weather. Music from dozens of different players filled the air. In a bit of shade nearby, a couple drowsily lying on a blanket were dappled with the light that filtered through the trees. 

A shadow fell across her, and she raised her hand to her eyes to make out the figure standing before her. It was a man in his late 50s. He was balding, with close-cropped hair and a beard heavily flecked with grey. Kind and weathered, his eyes met hers as he gave her a shy smile.

“Hi, miss. Could I share the bench with you?” His voice was soft, carrying a hint of weariness. “I walked here, and it was a lot further than I thought. Just need a few minutes to rest.”

“Of course.” Sara picked up her tablet and slid over to give him room.

While he sat on the end of the bench and stretched his legs before him, Sara half-heartedly began scrolling through her newsfeed. She watched her companion from the corner of her eye and tried to remember the last time she’d seen grey hair.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it,” he said half to himself.

“What do you mean?” Sara set her tablet down, her curiosity piqued, her eyes fixed on the man.

“No children. I used to bring my daughter here when she was little. On a day like today, it would be full of young families. Over there used to be a playground.” He pointed to an area where several volleyball nets were strung.

“It’s the only way to stabilise the population,” Sara said, and it sounded so much like a cliched government slogan that she instantly regretted it, feeling a pang of guilt for her insensitivity. “There’s still the lottery. I know the odds are really, really bad, but my partner and I have registered for it. I’d like to have a child someday.”

He nodded, and they sat in silence for a while. The man eventually closed his eyes and leaned back against the bench. Sara studied her companion covertly as she pretended to read. She had lots of questions but didn’t know how to ask them. An errant volleyball eventually came bouncing up and struck him in the knee. After he had thrown it back to the players, she smiled at him and decided to go for it.

“Have you started your treatments yet?” she asked, knowing it bordered on rudeness.

“No, and I don’t plan to.”

“Why?”

“Look, you seem nice, and I don’t want to offend.” He nodded toward the bracelet on her right wrist. The silver bracelet had a stylized image of a Phoenix rising from the ashes. It signified that she was one of the Renewed.

“You won’t offend me. My partner, Mark, is always complaining about how nosy I am. Please tell me. I want to know.”

“Look, don’t get me wrong, the treatments are a miracle. We’ve discovered the Fountain of Youth, and I’d give anything to be young again. But not everything. Do you remember anything of your past life?” His voice got softer when he asked the question, and he looked into her eyes as if searching for something.

“No, no one does.”

“The treatments are a treasure they hold out to us, glittering and glistening in their hands, but the asking price is too much for me. I don’t want to lose everything that makes me who I am. I don’t know who would wake up in that hospital room after the last treatment, but it wouldn’t be me.”

“I like to think I’m the same person, but I won’t lie, it was rough. Especially learning how to talk and walk again. I’ve heard they’ve been able to cut the rehabilitation time in half.”

“I’m also avoiding the treatments because of my daughter.” There was a long pause after he said that. Sara waited. He stared straight ahead when he started talking again as if looking into another world. “Tess died in an automobile accident when she was sixteen. If I get the treatment, I’ll forget her first words, her first steps, everything. It would be like she had never been born, and I won’t do that to her.”

“What about her mother?” Sara reached out and took his hand.

“Her mother got the treatment, but don’t think less of her for that. I don’t. The thing about grief is that it’s all it’s cracked up to be. It becomes your constant companion. If you’re lucky, you learn to live with it. My wife couldn’t, so she chose to forget. Now, I’m all that’s left to keep Tess’s memory alive. It may seem like a burden, but I gladly carry it. But this is too dark of a conversation for such a beautiful day, and I’ve taken up too much of your time.”

“It’s fine. I’ve enjoyed talking with you.”

“I’ve enjoyed it too. I hope you and Mark can have that child one day. You’ll be a wonderful mother, Sara.”

After he walked away, Sara picked up her tablet and started to scroll through it. She abruptly dropped the tablet, stood up, and tried to find him among the crowds in the park. He was nowhere to be seen. He had called her Sara, and she was sure she had never told him her name.

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