Then he got up, sat down on the couch beside his wife, and said, “How are you doing?”
“Fine. How are you doing?”
“Fine.” Then, with a rare flash of inspiration, he said, “Access wedding file.”
Once again, for many minutes, images from long ago appeared on the ’screen. The bad times, the good times. Sorrow, and happiness. Regrets for things that might have been. Gratitude for dreams fulfilled.
“Stop personal file.” The orchestra and chorus again filled the ’screen. The baritone and soprano soloists, representing Adam and Eve, were singing their final love duet. With thee each joy is enhanced, with thee my enjoyment is redoubled; with thee life is blissful; to thee may it be wholly dedicated.
With his wife cuddled snugly in his arms, Schrader repeated, “How are you feeling?”
“Fine. It’s like I’ve been half-asleep for a long time, and now I’m finally awake.”
Then the young, vibrant face of the woman he loved gazed up at him. “Do you think we did the right thing? Getting the treatment, I mean? Think of all the stupid things we’ve done, all the mistakes we’ve made. All the heartache. Maybe the next fifty years will be just more of the same.”
Schrader sighed. “Maybe. But it doesn’t have to be that way. We may look the same as when we were first married. We still, hopefully, have a long life ahead of us together. But you were right. It’s not like when we were first married. We’ve already made a lifetime of mistakes—and we’ve learned from them. We survived all those bad times, and because we have, now we’re stronger than we were before.”
He kissed his wife gently on her forehead. “I won’t say life is always going to be easy from now on. One of the few things I’m certain of is that there are still going to be plenty of bad times, maybe more tragedies ahead. But, because we’ve already shared and endured so much, I think we’ll be able to cope with whatever comes our way. And find new ways to be happy together.”
Then he smiled playfully. “I know what we can do. It’s a perfect way to start our new lives. I remember Gerry saying that the lunar bases are so big now they’re almost like small towns. They’re even letting the permanent residents bring teenage and older family members up from Earth to live with them. Next time we talk with Gerry, let’s ask him how many high school and college-age kids are up there now He’ll know whether they could use some very experienced volunteers willing to go to the Moon to teach those kids, say, History and English Lit.”
He grinned at the dubious “Say what?” look on her face. Agnes always had anxiety attacks every time they flew in a jet. Or even if their ultra-reliable Al-navigated car went, in her mind, a little too fast. Apparently, even after the treatment, some things hadn’t changed. Well, even if he’d sworn off browbeating her, maybe, with a little help from the boys, she might eventually come around to his idea on her own.
Then Agnes said, “What time is it?”
He checked his watch. “Eight forty-five.”
She glanced at her wedding ring, then smiled at him coyly. “Do you remember what we were doing at 9:00, fifty years ago tonight?”
“How could I forget?”
Silently, she took him by the hand, and led him upstairs. Into their bedroom.
“I think,” she said, “we should reminisce some more…”
The call woke her from a sound sleep. She glanced at the clock on her night table. “Damn!” Then she sat up in bed and said, “Answer, audio only.”
“Dr. Renard?” The man on the other end of the line sounded frantic.
“Yes, but I’m not on call tonight—”
“I know. I’m sorry to bother you, but…” He went on to explain the nature of the “emergency.” As he finished Renard, now fully awake, smiled at her unseen caller.
“—And she’s stopped bleeding, but I’m afraid it might start up again. What should we do?”
“Don’t worry, Mr. Schrader. The mild pain and bleeding she had are perfectly natural. Remember when I told you that the rejuvenation treatment makes all tissues in the body regenerate?”
“Yes.”
“Well, that means, all tissues.”
There was a long silence. “You don’t mean—”
“Yes, I do. Hymens grow back too.”
One spring evening, a few months later, Schrader slumped wearily onto the couch. Even with his rejuvenated body, resuming a full schedule of teaching at the university after vegetating for over a decade was still exhausting. He said, “Holoscreen on.” A moment later, after checking the mail, he turned it off disappointedly. Still no message from the International Space Agency on their travel permits. You’d think, he told himself, with two sponsors and the glowing health summaries Dr. Renard sent the Agency all those weeks ago, they should have been approved by now. With the obligatory ten-week training program after they got their permits, if those bureaucrats didn’t hurry he and Agnes might not get to the Moon before Gerry left on his mission.
Then Agnes sat down beside him and whispered in his ear, “I went to see Dr. Renard today.”
“Did she find out why you’ve been feeling sick the last few mornings?”
“Yes, she did.” She smiled in a way he hadn’t seen in many, many years. “Gerry and David are going to have a little sister. Emily Marie—and no arguing over the name!”
Schrader let out a long sigh. Well, the Moon had waited this long. It could wait a little longer. Maybe, someday, the whole family could finally have a reunion on Mars.
Suddenly a horrible thought popped into his mind. Gerry and David had it easy. All they had to do was colonize hostile, dangerous planets. In another three years or so, he and Agnes would be faced with a task far more challenging than that. One that, he knew from past experience, would strain their patience and endurance to the limit.
Potty training.
