The Scientist's Experiment: Chapter Twelve

Zeke Howell loathed shopping. Be it for clothing, furniture, or really anything else, he despised the whole process. Not exactly the concept of spending money, but it was mostly the people. Human interaction was not his greatest talent, and he often found himself weary after a day outside of his cozy abode. Zeke could get tired just thinking about being around strangers. It was a wonder he didn’t simply hire servants to do his shopping for him, but then again, that would require more human interaction. He thought about requesting Frieda to do the dirty work for him, but it was her day off, and always respected that. So here he was, shuffling up and down the sections of the morning market, trying to avoid idle chatter in any and every way, ignore questionable looks from strangers, and desperately hoping he might restrain his nausea despite the horrible fish smell that lingered in the air.
The “strangers” that surrounded him were men and women who, just like himself, had been citizens of the town for many years. Despite this, they knew very little about the secretive man, aside from his appearance, and thus didn’t like him in the slightest. All they knew was that he was a scientist, and as far as their narrow minded consciences were concerned, that could only mean trouble. These suspicions were only further fed by the town gossip and trusted, cure-all salesman, Otto Montgomery. He was a charming and handsome gentleman, quite a contrast from the diminutive and antisocial Dr. Howell. They gossiped about the doctor constantly. His secretive mansion, his practices, and his deceased wife, complete with terrible rumors about his marriage and their relationship. Suffice it to say, Zeke couldn’t have cared less what they thought about him.
The doctor stocked his shopping basket with the blandest food possible. Crackers, bread, a bit of mild-tasting fruit. Any foodstuffs he felt he could stomach at this point. The morning sickness, which was something exciting a mere couple of weeks ago, had quickly become the bane of his existence. When he wasn’t actually vomiting, he was constantly nauseated by anything and everything with an aroma. He’d been forced to clean out almost all the food in his icebox and pantry and start afresh. Zeke knew he’d have to work his way back to normal meals eventually, but for now his options were reduced to anything he could keep down.
Ezekiel wandered into the general store, away from the overwhelming sounds and smells of the morning market. Being late August, the store was extremely humid, and though unpleasant, it was admittedly preferred to the scent of fresh seafood. The dried foodstuffs were much less likely to irritate his senses. The doctor milled about the shelves for a bit, coming upon things like packaged oatmeal or a bottle of milk, the latter he hoped might quell his horrible acid reflux. If he could actually manage to stomach the stuff. Zeke drifted absentmindedly around the musty shop for a good while before accidentally running into one of the store's patrons. Embarrassed and flustered by the collision, Zeke fumbled for an apology, that is before he realized who he'd collided with.
"My, my. Aren't we clumsy today?" Otto commented, his lip curling into a rather sinister smile.
Zeke didn’t respond, but merely gave the man a hard glare. He’d been hoping he wouldn’t run into the bastard, as he really wasn’t in the mood. Not that he was ever really keen on talking to Otto Montgomery. They had history, and although Otto had never done anything beyond what might be called immature, Zeke couldn’t help but feel there was something far more sinister behind that snarky grin.
“I’m shocked to see you in broad daylight. Truly! You never grant us with your less than pleasing presence; always holed up in that estate of yours. It’s practically in shambles now. I do wonder why you never leave. Could it be you are allergic to sunlight, as the rumors say?” Otto snickered.
“Leave me alone.” Zeke said, too tired to be annoyed.
“In all seriousness, to what do I owe this encounter? Indulging in more liquor for your alcohol infused mourning? My dear fellow, it’s been almost three years. Surely you’ve gotten over her death by now.” Montgomery said, eyes shining darkly.
The doctor’s face flushed with embarrassment and rage. This statement went beyond mild irritation; Zeke wanted to throttle him. He tried desperately to calm his nerves. Violence would only make a scene and further enforce his negative reputation. But just one look at Otto’s smug face renewed the fury in full vigor. His hand balled into a fist, prepared to wipe that smile off his face, his jaw set hard. Suddenly, a firm but soft hand gripped his shoulder, and he felt himself in control again.
“Morning, gentlemen.” Frieda said, eyeing Zeke with concern.
“And to you, my dear lady.” Otto said slyly.
"Frieda." Zeke mumbled, greeting her best he could after his inner fit of rage.
"I do hope you boys have been playing nice." She said, staring at Otto suspiciously.
"Pardon me, Madame, but we are not boys. We are grown men, and do behave as such. Petty quarreling is so unbecoming." Otto said, still grinning politely.
Frieda gave him a hard stare. She, like Zeke, could easily see through the gentlemanly guise.
"If you will excuse me, I must return to my errands. Madam," Otto looked directly at Zeke, a glint in his eyes, "Professor."
The duo watched him depart. Zeke's expression was one of utter disgust and mild fury. Frieda, however, felt confused.
"Professor? Why did he call you that?" She asked her superior.
"It's complicated." The doctor grumbled.
"But-" She started, but was met with a scowl, and didn't continue. Frieda took the look as a signal that he wouldn't talk about it. Not to be swayed, she decided to press the subject later.
"He infuriates me. Today more than usual. I wonder why..." Zeke muttered.
"He is rage-inducing, isn't he?"
'I almost let my emotions consume me. I was about to get violent. I've never felt that way before.' Zeke thought, deciding to chalk the experience up to him feeling unwell.
"I must admit, it is a bit strange seeing you outside your normal surroundings." Frieda said, smirking. It brought Zeke out of his thoughts.
"You can blame this blasted nausea. It's running rampant." He said. He pulled a package of biscuits off the shelf and nested them in his basket.
"Hasn't let up even a bit, I surmise?"
"Quite the opposite. It's worsened." He grimaced.
"Have you managed to eat anything?"
"Consuming the foodstuffs isn't the issue. It's keeping it in my system that's the challenge. As long as it's bland, I can most likely eat it. The smell is what deters me."
"Do you think this could pose a problem in the long run?"
"Doubtful. It's only a nuisance at the moment. The worst it's done is posed a challenge with taking my daily dosage of the solution."
"You are taking it, though, aren't you?" Frieda asked consernedly.
"Of course, but by means of syringe for the time being. Can't even put the stuff in my mouth without dry heaving. It's brutal." Zeke said, rubbing his forehead.
"You're keeping track of it, right? Journaling every day?"
Zeke nodded, adjusting the cumbersome basket on his shoulder.
"Oh, about meals. Carla loves cooking. She has many recipie collections on our shelf. If you'd like, I can lend you a book of more mild dishes." Frieda offered.
"I think I shall take you up on that offer." He nodded, smiling wanly.
"Let's pop by my house and I'll grab it. I could walk you home if you'd like."
"I couldn't interrupt your day off. It wouldn't be right." Zeke said, waving her off.
"I insist. I can't enjoy my day knowing you're ill and I've done nothing about it." Frieda said.
Zeke scowled, knowing Frieda was as stubborn as he.
"Very well. But I won't keep you. Now, if you'll pardon me for a moment, I'm going to finish my shopping."
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The doctor and his assistant stopped by Frieda and Carla's home, but Carla, as always, was preoccupied with work. Frieda had no choice but to blindly pick from the selection of cookbooks. She wasn't as familiar with the subject of cuisine as he partner, but she hoped Zeke could find something in the myriad of recipes to help his morning sickness. After this brief detour, Frieda walked with her employer back to his abode, despite a swarm of protests from the latter. He won out on the basket debate, however, and firmly insisted on carrying his own groceries.
"Are you sure you're alright?" Frieda asked him.
"For the millionth time, I’m fine!" Zeke said.
“Fair enough, fair enough.” Frieda sighed.
They’d already been walking for a while, and the heat was beginning to get to her. Frieda inconspicuously unbuttoned her shirt a little, feeling dizzy from the sweltering heat.
“Why is your house so far away?” She asked.
“Sorry. I didn’t build it. If I had, it would have been closer. Actually, maybe further. Different town entirely.” Zeke smirked.
“If I may distract myself from the temperature, do you mind telling me a bit more about the connection between you and Montgomery?” Frieda dared to ask.
“You are positively obstinate, do you know that?”  He sighed.
“And you’re as tight lipped as a clam. This must be a pretty good secret. Did he try to horn in on your marriage?”  
“Not as interesting as all that. Airing more on the  unpleasant side, actually. You really want to know?”
“I think it might keep me up at night.” Frieda joked.
“And we wouldn’t want that.” Zeke smiled.
“So?”
Dr. Howell sighed and gnawed his lip. He slowed his brisk stride, leaned against a nearby tree, and folded his arms in thought.
“Fine, fine. I’ll put you out of your misery. Otto Montgomery was a pupil of mine. Back when I was a university professor. Are you quite satisfied?”
“He was your student? That’s all?” Frieda said, feeling confused as to why it was so clandestine.
“I warned you that it wasn’t very exciting.”
“You were right on that account. The suspense really was for naught. So, if he was one of your scholars, am I to assume there was tension between the two of you? I can only imagine how uneducated he’d be in a classroom setting.” Frieda said, smirking.
“Quite the opposite. He was brilliant. Otto had a passion for science, and a talent for such endeavors. And, believe it or not, Montgomery was one of favorite students. We got along wonderfully.” Zeke explained.
Frieda gawked at the doctor, dumbfounded.
“What?” Zeke asked.
“He couldn’t have gone from being your favorite student to your worst enemy overnight. Something must have happened to fuel your hatred for each other.” Frieda said, urging him on eagerly.
“Well…” Ezekiel murmured.
“Go on.” Frieda nodded, throwing herself on the ground beside him.
“Otto WAS brilliant, but he was also arrogant beyond belief. It came from being raised in an uneducated household. Any amount of knowledge he had that exceeded his own parents level caused an overabundance of praise, turning him prideful. At least, that’s my theory.” Zeke sighed.
“How did this affect you as his teacher?”
“It didn’t. Not directly, at least. You see, because Montgomery was so overconfident, he never understood the necessity for research. Not once did he ever think he could fail, so he never studied. Relied too heavily on his own mind for anything and everything. Sadly, it was his undoing, and in the end I couldn’t pass him.”
“He flunked and he blames you? It was just a class.”
“Not exactly. Apparently I was the cherry on his massive sundae of disaster. He’d been failing all of his classes, but I believe he blames me specifically because we got along so well. At the end of the day, he was still my student, and it was my obligation as a teacher to give him the grades he deserved. So, he flunked out of the university altogether. A pity, really. A brilliant mind wasted on peddling ‘miracle cures’.” Zeke continued, showing no sign of remorse. Instead, he was bitter about the whole ordeal.
“And the grudge has never died.” Frieda finished.
“Indeed.” Zeke said.
“Well, he might be rude, but at least he’s harmless.” Frieda commented, getting to her feet. She brushed her trousers free of debris.
“Of course…mm…” Zeke mumbled.
“What? You think otherwise?”
“He’s not exactly dangerous, but I can’t help feeling that he’s not as innocent as he appears. You don’t have to agree with me, but I…I think there is a darkness about him. He bothers me deeply. I can’t explain myself thoroughly, and I know I have no evidence, but he does.”
Zeke had unconsciously begun rubbing his hand over his abdomen. Frieda noticed this and met his vacant gaze.
“You don’t think he would ever-” She started.
“He doesn’t even know. And it’s going to stay that way. He is one reason we are being as tight lipped as possible about this experiment. You haven’t told Carla, have you?”
“No, but she’s curious.” Frieda said, almost angrily.  
“Let her be. I can’t risk letting this secret out before the time is right.” He said firmly, continuing his trek up the hill.
Frieda hurriedly caught up with him, sweating furiously from the heat and exertion.
“Wait! Dr. Howell, be honest with me. Do you feel safe about this? About having this child? People are going to ask questions when an unmarried man is suddenly toting around an infant that curiously possesses many of his traits.”
“This town is ignorant, but, for the most part, peaceful. All except for Montgomery. He can never know  I am with-child. I don’t care if he questions my weight gain or odd behavior, he can never put two-and-two together.” Zeke stated intensely. He’d begun to whiten.
“You really are frightened by him, aren’t you?” Frieda asked.
“There’s something about him, I don’t know what, but it does make my skin crawl.” He said, suppressing a shudder.
“Well, don’t worry so much. It’s not good for the embryo’s development. Besides, you being in the family way is probably the least likely thing the townspeople will assume.” Frieda said, smiling softly.
“You’re probably right.” Zeke said, returning the expression. That is, until his stomach gave a lurch. His hand flew to his mouth and he swallowed hard.
“Alright there?” Frieda asked.
“This damned heat is affecting my nausea.” Zeke said. He felt his stomach settling slightly, then being irritated again.
“Come on. Let’s get you home. Maybe when you feel up to it later, you can have something mild. Crackers, perhaps?”
“Don’t. Mention. Food.” Zeke growled, very ill indeed.
Frieda found this funny, but for Dr. Howell’s sake, hoped the morning sickness wouldn’t last too much longer. In the meantime, she would do everything within her power to make sure his “experiment” was kept under wraps in the coming months. Even if this meant lying to her partner.