The Problem With Immortality Ch. 09

So Jennifer and Carl got to work on the laborious task of setting up large tents. Each tent, meant to hold twenty or more people, took time to set up. Jennifer found herself getting to know another volunteer, a white woman with kinky dark hair who was helping plant old fashioned stakes into the ground next to her. Her name was Karyn Myshugina. She and her husband Merven had come here to feel the joy of helping others, just like Jennifer and Carl had. Their marriage had frayed over time, as any marriage of over two centuries would, and she hoped that this experience might bring them closer together.

"So, where is he?" Jennifer asked, of Karyn's husband.

"Back at the chateau. Getting a massage, I expect. Merven didn't take to volunteer work as I hoped."

"Why didn't you pick an activity that you both wanted to do?"

"Helping others is who I am," said Karyn, as she tied a rope around a stake. "That's part of my core identity. If I can't share my core self with the one I love, it's hopeless."

"Oh, I don't know about that," said Jennifer. "For centuries I was a classical musician, and my husband was a Fixer. Our interests were completely different, and yet we forged a close bond between us."

"Your husband? You mean that attractive man holding the pile of stakes?"

"No," Jennifer blushed. "That's... that's Carl."

"So where's your husband?"

"We... split up." He left me.

Karyn smiled as she tied another knot. "Don't be ashamed, dear. It happens to the best of us. But it also proves my point. You have to share similar interests. You see that man, over there?" She pointed to a blonde man who was carrying blankets to tents.

"Yes," said Jennifer.

"See how tall and manly he is, with that big chest? His name is Oliver. And he's single! I'm going to have him."

"But what about your husband?"

"What about him? If he can't appreciate me for who I am, I'm going to seek out someone who can. The man in my life should love me, and everything I do. That was my mistake with Merven. He said he loved me, but he never had any interest in the passions of my life, in helping others. It's taken me two hundred years to realize this. No, I need a lover who shares the same interests I do. From the looks of it, you look like you do too."

Jennifer blushed again. "No, Carl, and I, we're not-"

"Not yet," Karyn grinned. "I can see it in your eyes, though perhaps not so much in his. But you can do it, dear. Make him your own. You're a fully mature woman. You should know how."

Jennifer found this conversation more and more embarrassing, and was relieved to return to Carl to help him carry more tent stakes.

********

That evening, in their luxury hotel in the Bahamas, Jessica, who thought she hated volunteering, suddenly discovered she loved it.

They had lobster and steak for dinner at their ten star resort. That was followed by a live dolphin show, where the dolphins really did dance. And then Jessica signed up for a strong muscle tissue massage.

When they returned to their hotel room, Jessica said, "I feel odd."

"How so?" said Anson.

"All this...dogoodery... I think it's blocking my sex drive," she said, looking down at her body.

"It's gone?" said Anson.

"I don't feel anything," said Jessica.

"Maybe it's just because you're relaxed, because of the massage."

"Maybe. Or maybe I've lost my sex drive!" said Jessica, panic edging into her voice. "Make love to me."

"What?"

"Make love to me. I want to see if I've still got it."

"Jessica, you're being-"

She silenced him with a kiss. He responded strongly. Within moments, both their clothes were off.

"My tits," she whispered. "Suck on my tits!"

Anson reached down and put a nipple in his mouth. After a while he pulled out and said, "Feel anything?"

"Not sure," said Jessica anxiously. "Try again."

Anson did, this time sucking harder, pursing his lips tightly.

"Ooooh... yes, I feel that!"

Anson very gently scraped her nipple with the edge of his teeth.

She gasped, "Anson! All right, that part works! Now check the lower half."

Anson reached down and started rubbing her clitoris, as he stared into Jessica's eyes. She stared back at him, waiting, needing, longing. And then came the first gasp, and then a second, and a third, and she nodded and smiled.

Anson turned to find his clothes.

"What are you doing?"

"Well, it seems pretty obvious that you still have your sex drive. That's what you wanted to find out, isn't it?"

"Get over here NOW!"

Anson grinned as he allowed Jessica to make love to him. She did so hungrily, demandingly, but also, with an undercurrent of relief.

Afterwards, as she slept by his side, he got up and quietly got dressed. The crickets were calling to him. He quietly left the hotel room and went down to the beach.

Something was calling to him. Something much more urgently than Jessica. Something important. It was the water, lapping against the beach. He knew that sound. He knew that call. How could he forget? It looked the same exact way it had that previous night, sparkling in the moonlight.

Anson sighed. Why did he have to come to the Bahamas?

Of course, after 311 years, nearly every place would remind him of Jennifer. They had travelled nearly everywhere together.

But this had been the site of their honeymoon.

********

They had been together for four years. Four wonderful years. Anson had gotten his first job as a junior Fixer, after the customary apprentice and training period. But his work was requiring him to travel a lot. That meant more and more time apart from Jennifer.

Jennifer said she didn't mind it, but he thought that she did. He noticed that Jennifer started to talk more and more about a man named Enrique, who she was collaborating with to produce a musical composition. Enrique said this, Enrique said that, and wasn't that so funny, and Enrique's simply brilliant, and Anson, you simply have to meet Enrique!

Anson very much wanted to meet Enrique. They met at a party at the Musical Conservatory in Geneva, where Jennifer was teaching classes part-time while working on her compositions. This was before she had become famous as a world-class pianist.

Enrique was everything Anson had feared. He was tall, at least two inches taller than Anson. He had dark curly hair that fopped over his forehead. He had piercing hazel eyes. He had big strong arms, and an equally big manly chest. Anson took one look at Jennifer and Enrique, standing together, laughing together, and his pulse raced.

He had to do something. But what could he do? He was supposed to get on a stratoliner and go to Tokyo in the morning. He would be leaving her to Enrique's tender mercies, again. When they got back to their apartment, Anson paced back and forth furiously in the bedroom, while Jennifer practiced on her baby grand piano in the music room. Then, finally, he couldn't stand it anymore, and slammed the door open. Jennifer stopped playing, surprise written on her face.

"What, Anson?"

Anson rushed forward, and got on bent knees.

"Anson... what is this all about?" said Jennifer, suddenly getting excited.

"Jennifer, I love you so much. You mean the world to me. I need you more than life itself. Marry me. Marry me, please!"

And then time slowed down, and then crawled to a halt, and so did the beating of Anson's heart. He looked at Jennifer, and saw the shock and surprise written all over her face. They had lived together for the past two years, it is true, but they had never really talked about marriage. Anson's impression had been that Jennifer was relaxed about it, happy with the way things were. But now he was going to find out the truth. Had he asked too late? Had Enrique stolen his love from under him?

"Anson... where did this come from?" Jennifer asked quizzically.

"I love you and want you to marry me. Right now."

"Right now?" said Jennifer. "In the middle of the night?"

"We can do it online. Through the comm."

"You want an instant holocomm wedding?" said Jennifer. Suddenly understanding dawned on her face. "It's Enrique, isn't it?" She read his face like it was a line of text on her datapad. And she laughed, "Oh, Anson! My poor dear Anson!"

"Am I too late? Have you fallen in love with him?" Anson cried.

"My dear, sweet Anson." She touched his face and smiled. "Enrique is married. His wife is expecting their second child."

"He is? They are?"

"Enrique is charming, handsome, sweet, and wonderful. But I could never fall in love with him."

"Why?"

"Because, my love, I only have eyes for you," said Jennifer softly, and then she got down on her knees to match him and gave him a kiss of the ages. At that moment, her lips against him was the most wondrous sensation he had ever felt. Even better than sex. Ten times better than sex.

They embraced like that, both of them on their knees, for some time. Then Anson said, "Then marry me."

"Yes, Anson."

"Yes? Yes what?" He suddenly, desperately, needed confirmation, to remove all shadow of a doubt.

"Yes, yes, yes! I'll marry you!" said Jennifer, laughing. "But not tonight. Can we at least invite my parents to the wedding? I'd hate to tell them we were joined by a holominister."

And Anson laughed and cried on the most joyous night of his life.

********

The wedding was fine.

Ironically, Anson wasn't so excited. His excitement had peaked when Jennifer had agreed to marry him. The rest was simply... a formality.

But Jennifer looked stunning in a beautiful white dress. And as the minister said the words, and they repeated them, and Anson looked into her eyes, and said, "I do", and so did she, an electric thrill permeated his body as he kissed the one he loved.

And then they took a stratoliner to the Bahamas.

Thankfully, the beautiful hotel they had stayed at had been torn down; the memories it would have evoked would have broken Anson's heart.

Although he and Jennifer had been a couple for four years, it felt like they were strangers to each other. Anson's heart raced as he saw Jennifer in a white bikini, her feminine thighs and tight ass looking gorgeous as she ran and played in the surf. Her smile was radiant, and her blue eyes perfectly matched the color of the water. The sun had started to give her chestnut brown hair just the sexiest hint of blondness. And that first night, when they made love, it was like their first time all over again, feeling his body against hers, touching, moving against her, moving inside of her, making love while looking into her eyes, and she into his, like it was all new; because now, she was his, and he was hers, and it would always be that way.

And on the last night, they had sat on the beach together, Jennifer in those tight white slacks that defined her ass and legs so wonderfully, and that blue and white blouse that showed off her delicate curves--even then, with only a B cup at the time, he found her breasts totally irresistible. They had sat, hand in hand, and watched the waves come in and out, just as Anson was doing now.

And when Jennifer suggested they go inside, Anson had resisted, and Jennifer said, "My love, we will have our entire lives together to do this," and Anson had turned to her and said, "Yes, but I want this moment to last forever," and she had looked at him with such passion, and kissed him with such intensity, that forever after he would associate this beach, and these waves, with the one he loved.

********

Jennifer enjoyed watching Carl.

Carl walked back and forth bringing blankets from tent to tent.

Carl stopped to talk to a bunch of young black girls with braided hair.

Carl helped a young black man hobbling on a crutch get to his tent.

Carl liked helping others. This wasn't an act. Jennifer could see it. He was such a wonderful man. Why had they never gotten together?

It had been an accident of timing. Carl had gone one way after high school and Jennifer had gone another. And then, a few years later, Anson had appeared, and stolen her heart.

But maybe she would have been better off with Carl. She liked his smile, and his curly brown hair. He was generous, and gentle, and smart. She found herself attracted to him, but the question was, was he attracted to her? She resolved to find out.

As they worked during the day, Jennifer's arm "accidently" brushed against Carl several times. At first he didn't notice, being so busy handing out food and blankets and medicine. But soon he started to take note, and when he saw Jennifer smiling at him, he smiled back.

Excellent.

That night they had a wonderful dinner at the Chateau while a man played the guitar and sang a romantic song for them. It was wonderful being able to volunteer, to help black people during the day, while spending the evening in the lap of luxury in French wine country. It was the best of both possible worlds, and Jennifer wondered why volunteer organizations hadn't conceived of the idea sooner.

After night fell, they moved to the outdoor porch and sat in two overstuffed chairs, side by side. They could still hear the guitarist singing behind them, but he had to compete for the crickets. The view of the vineyard and the mountains behind them in the moonlight was incredibly romantic. The stars were out too, and Jennifer could see the Big Dipper, which was always her favorite, as it reminded her of the time she and-

No, mustn't think about that. She turned and looked at Carl. He was looking at her and smiling. No words were necessary. She reached over and gave him a kiss. His lips were soft and yielding. She put her tongue in his mouth, and for a precious moment, their tongues dallied together. When Carl pulled back he said, "Boy, that was some first kiss!"

First kiss. That meant he was already thinking about the next one.

Jennifer smiled, and put her hand on his, and he squeezed it, and it was enough to know he was interested. That was all she needed to make the night hers.

********

The blonde bitch sisters, Emilia and Ruby, were at it again. They were carrying supplies back and forth to the tents filled with black refugees, when Ruby asked, "Should I take an image?"

"No, this isn't compelling," said Emilia. "I think we're in trouble."

"Why?" said Ruby.

"Susie Jordan just uploaded a holo of her building a hospital in Tibet."

"Tibet?" Ruby made a face. "Who the fuck cares about Tibetans? We're helping black people! People will think we're a lot more virtuous!"

"I know, but we're just putting up tents. That's boring," said Emilia. "And Tommie Wattafocher uploaded an image from Honduras. He's donating blood to Hispanics!"

"That Tommie Wattafocher makes my blood boil," said Ruby. "He's always trying to upstage the rest of us. He always prances around the country club, with his nose held high, like he's the greatest thing, always rubbing our noses in his latest and greatest volunteer experiences. Well, if we were as rich as his Daddy, we could afford to spend top credits to do the worthiest things in the world! He holds himself up as being the most morally pure, more than all the rest of us put together. It makes me sick."

"We've got to do something," said Emilia. She looked around, and saw people digging a trench.

"What's that?" she asked Fannie Mandell, who just happened to be walking by. This time Fannie was wearing a stunning one piece bathing suit that didn't fail to show her wonderfully curved behind.

"They're digging a latrine."

"A what?" Emilia asked.

"A toilet," said Fannie.

"You mean... they simply shit in a pit?"

Fannie, smiled and nodded.

"Why don't they just use atomizer toilets?"

"The idea is to create physical activities for volunteers to do. We could just as easily have robots and Fabricators do all this. Is that what you want?" Fannie asked.

"No, of course not," said Emilia hastily. Fannie smiled and walked on.

"Ruby, that's it!" said Emila.

"What?"

"Come on!"

They ran to the ditch. Emilia saw a shovel and picked it up, and started digging. Anson, carrying some supplies for one of the tents, stood still, watching the scene unfold.

"We'll get a picture of me digging this shit ditch!" said Amelia.

"Who cares about that?"

"It's shit work, Ruby. Working with shit to help the poor... can you imagine how Tommie Wattafocher's eyes will burst out when he sees it! Now snap an image of me while I dig!"

Ruby raised her datapad to snap an image, but Emilia stopped her. "No, don't. No one will know the fuck what I'm doing. It just looks like I'm digging a hole."

"We'll caption it."

"A picture should say a thousand words on its own," said Emilia. She looked around. "Hey, hey you!" she said

A young black man was walking by.

"Feel like the need to go to the bathroom, Mister? We've dug this hole, and we want to see if it's deep enough. Try it out!"

Anson, expecting the man to simply walk on, was surprised when he stopped and went over to the ditch, and looked down.

"Yeah, that's right, Mister! Go to the bathroom! It's ok, it's only us girls!"

And the man opened his pants and took out his black penis and started to urinate. His penis looked very long and flexible, almost like a garden hose.

"Great!" Emilia chortled, and she dug. "Ruby, are you getting both of us in the same frame? Are you?"

"Yeah," said Ruby.

The young man, seeing what they were doing, didn't seem bothered by their snapping an image of him urinating. He actually raised the stream so it arced high in the air to produce a more impressive visual.

"Great!" Emilia yelled.

The man finished urinating.

"Thank you, thank you so much," said Emila."I would shake your hand, but since you were just touching your penis and all, you understand...."

"You... like... peepee?" said the black man.

"Yes, very much so."

"You like dooty too?" the black man asked.

Emilia and Ruby looked at each other. That would make the photo even more compelling! "Yes, please!" Emilia cried.

And Anson watched, as the black man lowered his pants and squatted over the trench, and Emilia, grinning like a maniac, shoveled behind him, and as Ruby repeatedly snapped images in the few precious seconds as a large brown piece of shit evacuated from the black man's buttocks.

"Look at what I got," Ruby cried, showing her datapad to Emilia. "We have it a quarter way out, half way out, three quarters out, and I even got one where it's flying downwards! Which one should I use?'

"Which one does my hair look best in?" Emilia asked. "Oh, Tommie's going to hate this!" She was so happy.

For Anson, he wasn't watching the girls. Not at all. He was watching the black man who pulled up his pants, and, staring at the girls with a big smile, started walking away, whistling contently.

Something was not right here.

********

Later in the day, Anson and Jessica did a variety of volunteer duties. They spent an hour teaching a class of young black children basic hygiene.

"You must wipe after you go to the bathroom. Not before, but after," said Jessica, patiently reading a script from a datapad.

"For you boys out there, shake it three times after you finish. Three times, or you will get your pants wet," said Anson, also reading from a script.

After they finished the class, a young black girl came up to them with a bouquet of yellow flowers. She had big black eyes. "Thank you so much," she whispered. "Thank you so much for teaching us everything about the asshole and the wiping paper."

Anson and Jessica exchanged happy looks.

Later, they helped stacked some firewood for old fashioned stoves. No modern nuclear fusion ovens here! As they dropped a stack of wood, a woman came forward and put beaded necklaces over both their necks. "We are so grateful, so grateful for all you do."

"Thank you," said Jessica, feeling pleased.