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The alphabetic march proceeded until...

“Dr. Judy Hicks.”

There was polite applause from the audience.

Suddenly gasps coursed through the auditorium. A spotlight lit up the back of the room. It outlined a young boy in a wheel chair being pushed halfway down the middle aisle by his parents. A rainbow spectrum reflected off the metallic halo on his head.

Edison waited a few seconds after the chair stopped, pulled a remote control from his pocket, and pressed a button.

Slowly the seat of the wheel chair rose, putting its occupant into a standing position. The boy took two steps forward and raised both arms in a thumbs-up salute.

It took several minutes for the audience to stop clapping and cheering as Sammy Tignor moved back to his chair and waited for Edison to lower the seat.

It took longer for Dr. Judy Hicks to stop weeping with joy.

The roll call continued.

“Dr. Antonio Galen Hidalgo.”

“Nancy, did you hear that? Where the hell is Galen?”

The tall young man started to walk across the stage when a cap-and-gowned, bear-sized man stepped out of the stage wing and moved toward the dean’s side.

“Presenting the diploma of Doctor of Medicine to Dr. Hidalgo is a distinguished alumnus, Dr. Robert Galen.”

“Nancy, that old goat had this planned and didn’t tell us!”

Nancy just smiled.

It took a while for the old man’s eyes to stop tearing but Galen managed to hand the rolled-up diploma to his stunned young ward.

He embraced Tonio and whispered “when did you change your name?”

It was the first time he didn’t include “boy” at the end of such a sentence.

“I wanted to surprise you, Tio,” he whispered back. Then he proceeded to the other end of the stage as Galen took a step backward, seeming in anticipation.

“Dr. Sarah Knowlton. Presenting the diploma of Doctor of Medicine is another distinguished alumna, Dr. Sandra McDevitt.”

The young woman towered over her grandmother as Sandi handed the diploma to her granddaughter and they embraced.

And then...

“Dr. Julius Petrie.”

The dean’s next words stunned JP.

“Presenting the diploma is Dr. Augustus Petrie.”

The two men stared at each other for a moment. Then the father approached and embraced his estranged son.

“I’m proud of you, Julius.”

“Thanks, Dad,” he responded quietly.

“I’m sorry we got here late. The jet got held up over New York.”

Carmelita, Freddie and their respective future mates, Mike and Lilly, stood in the back of the hall as the new graduates filed out and milled with family and friends.

Tonio headed for his sister and brother and the three clung together in a tearful hug.

Sarah and Sandy stood beside the three as Judy joined them, followed by Galen, Nancy and Edison.

JP shyly approached Galen. An older man and woman stood by him, as did a short, almost simian young man, as he took Galen’s hand. His voice broke as he hugged Galen.

“Thank you, Tio.”

Galen reached into his pockets and handed a golden box to each of the four new doctors. Within each was a gold lapel pin, a gleaming staff with a single serpent coiled around it, one ruby eye sparkling in the sunlight.

Tonio read the inscription on the back of his pin then hugged the old man tightly.

Nancy could see the letters beautifully engraved in gold.

“To my successor, my son.”

ADD THERETO A TIGER’S CHAUDRON FOR THE INGREDIENTS IN OUR CALDRON

Four gray-haired heads stood to the side, watching wistfully as the young ones paired off: Carmelita and Mike, Freddie and Lilly, JP and Judy, and especially Tonio and Sarah.

Edison felt Nancy’s hand slip into his. His eyes teared up as he whispered, “Wonder what their lives hold in store for them.”

Nancy nodded.

“Your boy and my gal make one helluva couple, don’t they, Bear?”

Galen smiled as he felt the pixie’s hand nest itself in his.

“Hey, big guy, let’s get hitched.”

He gazed at the diminutive female dynamo.

“Half-pint ... I...”

To the stunned looks of the group his embrace swept her off her feet.

I stand here, steadied by the strong arm of my son.

I am the last of the three children, the last to remember the Old Ones as they were in life.

I am now well over one hundred years old, far past the age when my beloved Tio Galen met the Dark Angel.

I stand here in The Garden of Remembrance, the last to remember those happy days.

I hear the Moonsingers of the mountain, lifting their eternal song from the depths of the forest to greet the one they willed to me. My faithful Lobo sits by my side and returns the ululations of his brothers and sisters of the pack.

I stand here supported by the son who has followed in my footsteps, as I once followed those of the bear-sized man who saved me and my siblings from the hurricane.

In my mind I see them all, the ghosts of my youth, smiling back at me from among the spring flowers.

My grandson, great-grandson, and great-great-grandson step forward and place more flowers at the memorial plaque.

I see the ghosts nodding in approval.

I see the young bumble bee queen hovering nearby and I continue to wonder at the miracle of life.

The contrapuntal harmony of the Safehaven wolves rises and carries across the mountain and I know...

They sing for me.

Carmelita, Federico, my beloved Sarah, I will be joining you soon.

If there is a true afterlife, I will stride the mountain with you and Tia Nancy, my Tio Eddie, and most of all, my Tio Galen.

I am happy.

—Antonio Galen Hidalgo, M.D.

April 12, 2111

The Joshua Protocol and the Reeve Procedure described in Chapter 1 are wishful thinking on my part—but maybe not for long.

As for why I named them as I did, well, I think I'll let Galen and the gang from Safehaven explain...

 

“Dr. Galen?”

“Yes, Dr. C.?”

“The ball's in your court.”

“Of course. Tonio, start us off, please.”

 

“Tio, remember that night I called to tell you about the boy with the spinal cord injury? You said you knew the story behind the treatments we used on him.”

“Oh, great, boy, you've just given him an excuse to expound on another one of his thousand and one-night tales.”

“Don't be distraught, Edison. For one thing, I do not look like Scheherazade. For another, stick around; you might learn something.

“Is everyone ready? Little brother, do you need a bathroom break? No?

“Then let me tell you about a young man named Joshua—Joshua Basile.

“He was one of those rare combinations: intelligent, talented in sports, liked by his peers, and—even more special—he enjoyed the company of his parents. You looked at him and, more often than not, you saw a muscular young man with wide watermelon smile beneath observant, perceptive eyes.

“Joshua had just completed his first year of college at an Ivy League school and had returned to spend summer vacation at the beach with his folks. Everything seemed to be his for the asking.

“Edison, Nancy and Sandy, you all know my thinking about how and why things happen. But the young ones might not, so let me explain that I believe in a spirit of capriciousness. Call it Loki, Pan, crow god, hubris, whatever. It lies in wait for us, feeds off our emotions and, at the exact moment of our triumphs, pulls the rug out from under us. So it was with Joshua.”

“Bear, I thought we had settled that crap weeks ago.”

“Uh ... you're right, old girl. But it makes the story sound better.

“Joshua and his father, John, were spending a day at the beach, meaning that John stretched out on a blanket to soak up sun and Josh headed to the water to go surfing with his friends. His father reminded him of their impending golf game the following day.

“They both loved golf, and I can't tell you who was the better at it, but whatever the case, John Basile loved to play the game with his son and looked forward to the match.

“Josh picked up his board and joined his friends at the water's edge. From there they would paddle out and over the wave crests and then enjoy the ride back toward shore. He went first, wading out into chest-deep surf then turned toward his friends to beckon them ... when that god of capriciousness took over.

“As Josh faced the beach, Poseidon raised a wave that hit him from behind. It pitched him forward over his board with such force that it literally knocked him out of his swim trunks and forced him head down to the hard bottom.

“He felt the impact—then he felt nothing.

“In one respect it was fortunate that his friends were nearby. They saw his unconscious body floating face down and, after momentarily thinking it was a joke, rushed out and brought him to the beach. He lay there naked and exposed on the sand, slowly recovering consciousness as his father ran to see what had happened.

“Dad, I can't feel anything.”

“John Basile was a top-notch surgeon in the field of urology. His training in trauma told his mind what his heart did not want to believe. Joshua had sustained a spinal-cord injury at the C4 or C5 vertebra. He could feel nothing from the neck and shoulders down. He could not move his arms or legs. He was a quadriplegic.

“A less determined person would have given up. The therapy in those days was pathetically inadequate to the task of restoring nerve function. Complicating the process was a debate among both politicians who controlled research funds and the general population.

“In those days, the possibility of using stem cells to treat spinal cord injury and other degenerative conditions was considered, but the big monkey wrench was where those donor stem cells came from. Vigorous debate raged over the morality of using stem cells from human fetuses—unborn babies—who had not made it to what we consider viability. Central to the debate was the question of when human life began in a mother's womb.

“Politicians denied funding or openly prevented research that utilized stem cells obtained from human embryos, declaring it immoral.

“I do not fault them for following their religious principles. But the law of unintended consequences came into play and research in the United States slowed or went undercover as limitations were placed on which stem cell cultures could be used for experimentation.

“We'll never know how many people could have been helped by this line of research but weren't.

“Fortunately we found alternative sources of stem cells, sources that did not involve the explosive issue of using human embryos. We found that we could harvest stem cells from the patient's own bone marrow or skin.

“I applaud the researchers who finally overcame the obstacles strewn in their path to find an alternative pathway to success. I weep for those who could have been helped earlier. And I extol those who worked for success despite their own infirmities.

“Joshua found his mind trapped in an unresponsive body, but he didn't give up. He tried all of the available therapies, including those that were experimental. His father was instrumental in fostering the use of laser light stimulation of spinal cord stem cells.

“Now here's where Joshua became a true hero. He went outside of himself by starting a foundation to help other spinal cord injury patients and foster new therapies. He started Determined2Heal, which has expanded into other fields of brain and nerve research.

“So, my friends, that's why it's called the Joshua Protocol and why I consider him one of the superheroes who have tried to help others suffering from this condition.”

“Tio, who is the other person?”

“Superman!”

“Yes! Exactly! Thank you, Nancy. It's Christopher Reeve, the late Christopher Reeve. You youngsters don't remember him, but he was a pretty damned good movie actor who played the role of Superman in several motion pictures, until he became quadriplegic by being thrown from a horse. He and his late wife also worked tirelessly to combat political ignorance and promote research in areas that would help others.

“So, there you go, young doctors, now you know why you use the Joshua Protocol and the Reeve Procedure.”

“Okay, big brother, I take it back. That was worth listening to. Now as a reward I'll take everyone out to dinner.”

“I ask that you six doctors check my husband for some strange condition. I haven't seen him spring for a meal in ages.”

“Well, tonight I am. C'mon everyone, let's all pile into Wilma.”

“Dr C.?”

“Yes, Dr. Galen?”

“Think that will answer your readers' questions?”

“Perfectly, thank you.”

“Tio Galen, that guy looks just like you.”

“No, Tonio, I'm much better looking.”

 

Beginning in late summer 2010 and continuing into 2011, researchers utilizing stem cells from the patient's own bone marrow, or in certain cases from donors, used experimental protocols to restore spinal cord function. The year 2011brought further successes with stem cell regrowth of damaged heart muscle and esophageal tissue.

Joshua Basile and Christopher Reeve are real.

So is the future potential for what once would have been fiction.

 

R.A. Comunale is a semi-retired physician in family practice and specialist in aviation medicine who lives and works out of his home office in McLean, Virginia. He enjoys writing, gardening, electronics, pounding on a piano, and yelling at his dimwitted cat. He describes himself as an eccentric and iconoclast.

 

The cat has claimed authorship.