فصل 6

chapter 6 lost loves

Welch’s childhood had been less than idyllic. His biological parents were drug addicts, and he had lived in and out of foster homes before, at the age of seven, he was permanently adopted by a family.

The adoption didn’t go well. Welch was rebellious and had a violent temper. Part of his problem was that he had always been larger than the other children his age and subsequently hung out with older kids. He was with teenagers four years older than him when they were caught stealing a car from a Walmart parking lot.

After his arrest, his adopted family “un-adopted” him, and Welch was sent to juvenile detention for eight months. It was the best thing that ever happened to him.

One of the police officers at the facility, a rugged former Golden Gloves boxer, took an interest in Welch and became his mentor. That relationship changed everything. Welch stopped acting out and got serious about school, where he learned, for the first time, he was not dumb like many had told him, but rather he had an above-average intelligence. He was also a gifted athlete. Much to his previous foster families’ surprise, Welch not only graduated from high school, but did so with a 3.98 grade point average and an academic and sports scholarship.

That summer, Welch was in his third year of studying criminal science. His scholarship only covered tuition and books, so he got a job delivering pizzas. He’d worked for the pizzeria just three months before the evening when he subdued the vandal at the Elgen building.

Patrick, the Elgen’s head security guard, had been accused of hiring his guards by the pound, and Welch was no exception. But it soon became clear to him that Welch was more than muscle; he was a quick learner and ambitious, and within just six months he was promoted to head of the graveyard shift.

Welch liked the work and the pay but found it a little lonely. He would patrol the dark, quiet halls of the Elgen building at night, sometimes hoping someone would break in just to liven things up. Oftentimes he would look in through the glass windows of the fifth-floor laboratory and watch the scientists at work, wondering what they were doing. He didn’t know them, at least not personally, but he knew the pecking order.

The main scientist was a man known as Dr. Coonradt. It seemed to Welch that Coonradt had no life outside of his work, as he was always there. Many times it was only the two of them in the building.

One night Coonradt called Welch over to the laboratory.

“Yes, sir?” Welch asked, wondering what the scientist wanted.

“Come in for a moment, please.”

“Yes, sir.” Welch stepped into the laboratory.

“What’s your name?” Coonradt asked.

“Welch, sir.”

Coonradt smiled. “I can read your name tag. What’s your first name?” “David.”

“Well, David, have a drink with me.”

“Thank you, sir, but I can’t. I’m on the job.”

Coonradt still poured two crystal glasses half full from a bottle of champagne. “I’m giving you permission. A sip of Dom Pérignon won’t jeopardize our security. It’s a special occasion. I’m celebrating a breakthrough.” He extended the drink to Welch.

Welch just looked at the glass. “I’m really sorry, but I don’t drink alcohol.” Coonradt looked at him in surprise. “A teetotaler, that’s refreshing.” He set down the glass, walked over to a refrigerator, and brought back a bottle. “Then have a Coke.” “Thank you, sir.”

Both men sat down.

“Why don’t you drink? You a Mormon?”

“No, sir. My biological father was an alcoholic. I figured I inherited his genes.” “You’re a smart man,” Coonradt said. He took a drink.

“What kind of breakthrough are we celebrating?” Welch asked.

“A big one. It has to do with a variation of the standard magnetic vector created when a polyatomic ion is covalently bonded—” “Wait, wait, wait,” Welch said, raising a hand. “You lost me way before polyatomic zions, or whatever you said.” Coonradt laughed. “Sorry. I get carried away sometimes.” Welch took a swig from his cola. “You’re always here.” “It would seem that way. My work is my life. It’s my wife, my family, my religion.” His voice fell a little. “It’s the only thing I have left.” Welch thought he saw a flash of pain in the scientist’s eyes. Coonradt sipped his champagne, then put his glass down. “What about you? Do you have anyone you can’t live without?” “I had a girlfriend for a while, but we broke up about six months ago.” “Was it mutual?”

“No. She dumped me for a med student.”

“I’m sorry. Are you pining for her?”

“Pining?”

“Sorry, it’s an old-fashioned word. Do you miss her?” “Yes, sir.”

Coonradt lifted his glass again. “Then we’ll toast lost loves.” Welch lifted his drink. “To lost loves,” he said as they clinked the glasses together.

Welch drank, then looked at the scientist. “Do you have lost loves?” Coonradt looked down for a moment, finished his drink, then lifted the one he’d poured for Welch and took a drink from it as well. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft.

“Yes. Two loves. My mother when I was fourteen, my wife eleven years ago. I lost both of them to cancer. Technically, I lost three, I guess. My wife was three months pregnant when she died. I lost my child, too.” “I’m sorry.”

Coonradt took another drink. “Me too.”

“Did you ever consider marrying again?”

“No. Not seriously. I suppose that I feel cursed. I couldn’t bear another loss. But life has a way of figuring itself out. It’s why I’m where I am right now. I decided to dedicate my life to revenge.” “Revenge? On who?”

“On cancer. It’s a living organism, and I am going to kill it, just as it killed my loved ones. Turnabout is fair play, right?” He took another drink.

Welch looked at him with admiration. “Yes, sir. I think that’s pretty awesome.” “Thank you. And if I succeed, I will save millions of lives and make the Elgen Corporation billions upon billions of dollars.” He sighed deeply. “Well, I better get back to work and let you get back to yours. Thank you for celebrating with me.” Welch quickly stood, taking the comment as his dismissal. “Thank you, sir. For the drink and the talk. Congratulations on your breakthrough. Maybe someday you’ll win a Nobel Prize.” Coonradt smiled. “That would be nice. Not so much for the prize, but because it would mean that I had accomplished something.” He stood. “And it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Welch. I wish you a long future and much success at Elgen Incorporated.”