“Nobody knows what I have, and there’s no reason they should, because I won’t take up a place for long. I’m going to put an end to myself when my condition starts to worsen.”
“How will you know?”
“For now I have headaches, I feel weak and clumsy in my movements. I no longer dare ride a bicycle, which used to be my life’s passion, because I’ve fallen off several times. Do you know I’ve crossed the United States on a bike from the Pacific to the Atlantic three times? I intend to enjoy the time I have left. Soon I’ll be vomiting, find it hard to walk and speak, my eyesight will fail, the convulsions will start . . . But I won’t wait that long. I have to act while my mind still functions.”
“How quickly life passes us by, Lenny.”
Lenny’s declaration did not surprise Irina. Death by their own hand was discussed quite naturally among the most lucid of the Lark House residents. Alma’s view was that there were too many old people on the planet, people who lived much longer than was necessary for biology and possible for the economy. It made no sense to oblige them to remain prisoner in a painful body or a despairing mind. “Very few old folk are happy, Irina. Most of them are poor, aren’t healthy, and have no family. It’s the most fragile and difficult stage of life, more so than childhood, because it grows worse day by day, and there is no future other than death.” Irina had commented on this to Cathy, who maintained that before long euthanasia would be a right rather than a crime. Cathy knew that several people in Lark House had what they needed for a dignified suicide, and although she understood the reasons for making such a decision, she had no intention of bowing out like that. “I live in constant pain, Irina, but if I don’t think about it, it’s bearable. The worst was the rehabilitation after the operations. Not even the morphine dulled the pain; the only thing that helped was knowing it wasn’t going to last forever. Everything is temporary.” Irina suspected that thanks to his profession, Lenny could call on more expeditious drugs than those that came from Thailand wrapped in plain brown paper.
“I’m not worried, Alma,” said Lenny. “I enjoy life, especially the time you and I have together. I’ve been getting myself ready for a long while; it isn’t going to catch me unawares. I’ve learned to pay attention to my body. Our body tells us everything if we only listen to it. I knew about my illness before it was diagnosed, and I know any treatment would be useless.”
“Are you afraid?” asked Alma.
“No. I suppose that what comes after death is the same as before birth. What about you?”
“A little . . . I imagine that after death there’s no contact with this world, no suffering, personality, or memory; it’s as though this Alma Belasco had never existed. Something may transcend it: the spirit, the essence of our being. But I confess I am afraid of giving up this body, and I hope that then Ichimei will be with me or that Nathaniel comes to search for me.”
“If as you said the spirit isn’t in contact with this world, I don’t see how Nathaniel can come searching for you.”
“Yes, it’s true, it’s a contradiction,” Alma laughed. “We cling so tightly to life, Lenny! You say you’re a coward, but it takes courage to say good-bye to everything and cross a threshold without any idea where it leads.”
“That’s why I came here. I don’t think I can do it on my own, Alma. I think you are the only person who can help me, the only one I can ask to be with me when the time comes. Is that asking too much?”