Paradise Beach
The Beach
Rachel Grace sipped the last of her margarita and set the empty glass on the small table nestled into the sand next to her chase lounge. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath of the salt air, and then let out a long, satisfied sigh as she opened her eyes to look again at the sun that was now dipping close to the horizon’s edge.
Rachel, in her mid-forties, had the body of a woman well-versed in yoga and palates. She wore a simple, modest one-piece bathing suit that still managed to draw Jarod’s eye along the curves of her hips. He adored her body, but it was her smile that most completely captured his heart. Her smile spread from her mouth to her eyes, radiating a depth of satisfaction and peace that was nothing short of breathtaking. He’d seen her give that smile to others, innocent bystanders as he’d thought of them, and he’d watched them also become mesmerized. Even in the shade of the oversized sun hat that she insisted on wearing whenever they were on the beach, that smile was clear, and Jarod was helpless under her spell.
They had met while he was in pre-med, and they’d fallen in love quickly. They eloped two days after he completed his first year of med-school. She could still remember him promising her that one day they would live together in paradise. By his 30th birthday, he’d established himself as a genius in the neuroscience field. By 38, he’d accepted a grant to pursue his dream of research, promising Rachel he would change the world. Ten years later they were living on Paradise Beach.
“It’s just amazing, Jarod, isn’t it?” she said as she looked around them. “You promised me we would live in paradise, and here we are… we live here, Jarod. We live on Paradise Beach.”
Her eyes scanned her surroundings more slowly, taking stock of it all.
Up the small hill to her left was their house. It was her dream home. She’d seen a picture of this house in a magazine years ago, and shown it to Jarod. When he bought this beach property he had arranged for the house to be built for her.
To her left, closer to the ocean, was the fire pit. It was enormous, at least 15’ in diameter. The base was a circle of large, sturdy stones, seemingly held together by nothing more than gravity and sand. Around the top of the circle, embedded in the mortar was a layer of sea glass. Tonight, like every night, there was a fire burning, and her mind relaxed as she looked first at the flames, and then at the reflection of the flames dancing in the sea glass.
She had a sudden memory of her childhood, and felt herself squinting at the fire as she tried to bring the memory into focus. As a young girl, she would often have trouble sleeping at night. Her father would help her relax by having her close her eyes and imagine a fire on a secluded beach. He would talk to her about the fire, telling her to imagine it in as much detail as she could. His voice would relax her as he talked about the red and orange flames dancing in the ocean breeze, the snapping of the wood, and the smell of the smoke rising off the logs and mixing with the salt air.
The more she thought about it, the more she began to feel like the fire pit in front of her wasn’t just similar to the one she had imagined as a child, but that it was the very same fire pit. She quickly let go of that thought, realizing it was just her brain overlaying her current reality into a fading and incomplete childhood memory.
Looking past the fire pit and farther up from the ocean, she saw the gazebo. In the gazebo was the bar, and at the bar was the ever-attentive Samuel. As her gaze stopped on him, he immediately raised his eyebrows, wordlessly asking if she needed anything at all. She smiled at him and shook her head.
Turning back to Jarod she said, “Thank you for all of this dear. It’s perfect.”
He took her hand and said, “I promised you paradise, and all I live for is to keep that promise.” He leaned over from his chair and kissed her hand. He lingered for a bit, as if he never wanted the kiss to end. When he finally sat back up, she saw the tear in the corner of his eye. He had always been the more emotional of the two of them, tearing up from movies, music, or sometimes from just watching her. She smiled, appreciating the love and adoration, but still oddly embarrassed by it after all these years.
Still holding hands, they turned and watched the setting sun. It was this time together, quiet but comfortable, that she loved the most. After several minutes, she gently shook his hand and said, “you stay here, I’m going to go get one more drink.”
He tightened his grip on her hand and said, “No, I’ll have Samuel bring it over.” Before she could object, he was up, signaling to Samuel. More quickly than she would have thought possible, Samuel was at her side, removing the empty glass from her table and replacing it with a fresh margarita.
She quickly picked it up and sipped, thanking him before he could fully turn to leave. He nodded his thanks and returned to his post in the gazebo. She turned back to watch the sun as it seemed to melt into the distant waves. Jarod watched the sun for a bit as well, but soon felt his eyes pulled back to her.
Soon he noticed the smallest change in her expression, a shadow of confusion in her eyes, and he immediately asked, “What is it?”
She didn’t speak right away, but his words seemed to flip a switch, allowing the shadow of confusion to openly take over her expression.
Finally, she turned to him and said, “I’m forgetting things, Jarod.”
“What do you mean?” His voice had changed. No one else would have probably heard it but she did. It was no longer the voice of her adoring husband, it was now the voice of a neurologist, a researcher gathering data.
“I’m forgetting things.” She repeated. “Things from our past, things that I should remember. Things that are on the tip of my tongue, but never quite make it out.” She paused for a moment and then added, “I’m forgetting big things… most things.”
“Oh, honey, we all forget things.” He was trying to sound calming, but he could clearly see it wasn’t calming her at all.
“It’s not like that. Let me ask you – where did we live before we moved here?”
“1119 Morris Ro...’”
“Yes,” she said, cutting him off. “Yes, that’s right, 1119 Morris Road. But I swear, if you had offered me a million dollars to write it down before you said it, I wouldn’t have been able to do it. I know that’s the address now, but I couldn’t have remembered it on my own.”
He looked at her, his mind racing to find something to say, but failing.
“There’s more,” she said quietly.
“More… like what?” he finally asked, as his eyes dropped down to stare at the sand between their chairs.
“Well… everything.” She finally said, the last word barely more than a whisper. “I know we fell in love in school, I know we got married, and I know for a while we were barely getting by. I know those things, but I don’t remember those things. I remember the stories, I see snapshots here and there, but I don’t remember those things.”
Tears were now gathering in the corners of her eyes. “I remember a couple of things about my childhood, my dad, and… that’s about it.”
He didn’t know what to say.
He slowly raised his head, meeting her gaze just as a tear escaped from the corner of her eye and rolled down her cheek. She needed answers, and she was somehow confident that he knew them. She waited, hoping that the silence would compel him to tell her what was happening, but the silence remained. She smiled, this time a forced smile that didn’t reach her eyes and had none of the charm of her real smile.
“Never mind,” she said in a strained whisper of someone fighting back tears. “Never mind, dear. Who am I to worry about forgetting a few things when I’m here, in paradise, with the man of my dreams?”
She took a deep breath, and then said, “It is all so perfect except for one thing, no matter how big the fire is I always get a big chilled as the sun sets.” She smiled, and this time it was real. “You stay here, I’ll run up and grab myself a blanket.”
He tried so hard to hold her back, holding on to her hand, willing her to remain in the chair, and opening his mouth to call for Samuel, but it was all too slow, too late.
She turned her upper body to get out of the chair, but her legs remained motionless. Confused, she tried again, but her legs remained unmoving. She looked at him, then back at her legs.
“Jarod?” Her voice was wrapped in confusion that was quickly giving way to fear.
“Jarod? My legs…” Her voice was overcome with panic now, “JAROD! I can’t move my legs.”
He bent over her, tears falling from his cheeks to her hat as he said, “Shhhhh.”
She opened her mouth to scream, but her mind faded to black before she could make a sound.
The Lab
Rachel Grace lies in the hospital bed, motionless, other than the shallow but steady rise and fall of her chest. Needles and tubes violated her body from every angle. A plastic tube released oxygen into her nose, while a small clip on her finger measured how much of that oxygen made it to her blood stream. Her head was covered with a helmet of sorts, one that housed dozens of wires connecting her to the computers beside the bed.
To the left of her bed sat Dr. Jarod Grace. He was carefully removing his matching helmet, rubbing his eyes to shake off the virtual reality visions of Paradise Beach. After a few moments, he turned to look at her.
She was as beautiful to him as ever, in spite of the needles and tubes, and in spite of her pale skin and withered limbs. “Samuel,” he called without looking up. The man, who moments ago was serving margaritas on the beach, now quietly came to the bed in his nursing clothes.
“She’s cold, Samuel, can you add another blanket?”
Samuel carefully added the blanket, meticulously tucking it around her without disturbing any of the equipment. As he did this, Jarod picked up his pocket recorder and began dictating his notes from the session.
Virtual Reality Paradise Project Update: October 13th, 11:08 PM.
The subject found the Paradise Beach simulation to be completely believable. None of her previous generalized anxiety or confusion were present in this trial. Subject maintained a stable, relaxed state of belief for 17 minutes before showing the first signs of anxiety.
Time from first negative emotion to complete VR breakdown was still less than 1 minute.
The interaction between the Subject and… between the Subject and her husband was fully lifelike and natural, involving all senses for both parties prior to the breakdown.
The induced amnesia successfully removed all memory of the Subject’s accident, paralysis, and coma. She remained completely unaware of her current reality. Unfortunately, the amnesia also seems to have wiped most of her pre-accident memories, other than some isolated memories from her childhood.
The paralysis of her lower limbs penetrated the simulation again, ultimately triggering the VR breakdown.
Next Steps. I will reach out to Dr. Corvalis for his thoughts on how we might refine the induced amnesia to allow all pre-accident memories to be accessible while blocking all memories of the accident and the aftermath.
I will continue to focus my own efforts on blocking the paralysis from appearing in the simulation. Regardless of how refined Dr. Corvalis is able to get the induced amnesia, if the subject is unable to walk in the VR world there is little hope of a sustained session.
This concludes my notes from trial 417, day 2,555.
He turned off the recorder, and set it down on the desk. After checking a few of the settings on his equipment, he walked to the bed and kissed her cheek. He lingered for a bit, as if he never wanted the kiss to end. When he finally pulled away, he whispered into her ear, “I promised you that one day we would live in paradise, my love. Be patient. I will get us there.”
He stood, tears rolling down his cheeks. He turned to the door, and as he walked out he said, “I need to get some sleep, Samuel. Please keep her comfortable.”
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