Read The Memory Artists Online
Authors: Jeffrey Moore
“They should put a flammable warning on that stuff,” said JJ.
“You lose anything else? I mean, more valuable than macaroni and cheese?”
“My journal. Did I mention that? I used to keep it right beside the toilet, where I do my best thinking. Oh well. Thanks again, by the way, for rescuing my letters—and my scrapbook. You’re a hero. I don’t know how you remembered where they were. They would’ve gone up for sure.”
“Could it have been a prank of some sort? I mean, kids are always hanging out there at night. Vandalising, desecrating tombs.”
JJ pointed to an object on the floor. “I doubt it—that thing looks pretty serious. A customised device. What did you say it was?”
“Formulated mercury, at least in one of them.” Noel picked up one of the two arson weapons, a 37 mm Ferret barricade-penetrating projectile. “It’s a tear gas shell that was altered, filled with some flammable liquid, I’m not sure what. I’ll find out tomorrow.” With a kitchen knife he began prying open the other device, a film canister, which for some reason had not gone off. Inside was a half-sheet of paper smudged with black:
ok this is a cool little bomb that you can make in 5 minuts ok this is what you need 1.black “powder” 2. 1 film canister 3. firework fuse 3.gasoilne 4. a rubberband small one 5. a plastic sandwithch bag and now what to do take the film canister and the black powder fill the canister just a little you only need to melt the bag. Poke a hole in the side of the film canister make sure the fuse is in g and the fule and put the fule in it not to much just enough to fill the canister up so after you filled the bad a enough tie the corner off with the rubber band then cut the rest of the baggy off put the end witht the fule in the film canister and your done now go out some where that is wide open so you I get caute by the dam cops put the canister on the ground and light the fuse and run when the black powder lights and the bag melts a big fireball will go up
“Shall we analyse the powder in your lab?” said JJ.
“Tomorrow, first thing?”
“I’ve heard a lot about it.”
“From …?”
“Norval.”
“He’s never seen it.”
“Can we take a gander?”
Noel tried to arrest a yawn. “I’m dead tired, JJ. And you must be too. After all we’ve been through. And it’s late … after two.”
“It’s early in China.”
“I’ll show you your room.”
“You’re the boss. You sure your mom won’t mind me staying?”
Noel rose from his chair. “She’ll be a bit confused at first. I should really wake her up and introduce you, so she doesn’t think you’re a burglar or rapist or something. But she hasn’t been sleeping that well. Just keep your door locked. She … well, she sometimes wanders a bit, goes from room to room, looking for things. With a … lamp.”
He nodded. “The lady with a lamp.” Still lounging in his chair, he began looking around the room, at the digital locks, camouflaged door handles, large-print signs. At the cobwebs and clutter. “I noticed in the bathroom … some signs and things. Your mom has … fairly serious problems, right?”
“Well, I wouldn’t say … I mean, she has a few, you know, minor memory lapses.” Noel sat back down. “To tell you the truth, JJ, they’re major. But she’s getting better all the time, she really is. I’m working on … solutions.”
“Good for you, Noel, don’t give up. Because it’s still there, eh? Like a computer, her memory’s there somewhere—it never disappears, you just need a good technician to restore the data. Unerase, undelete.”
Noel nodded bleakly. “I hope you’re right.”
“It might be too late for a whole new cerebral hard drive, but you’re never too old for a simple upgrade.” JJ took a Kleenex from his pocket, then a wad of gum from his mouth, put one inside the other. “So you two are quite a pair. How ironic, eh?”
“The irony, I assure you—”
“Your mom’s overdrawn at the memory bank, while you’re a millionaire.”
Noel winced at the metaphor.
“So you’ve got to find a way,” JJ extended, “of transferring some of your capital.”
Noel sighed. “I had the same idea.”
“I’ve got a terrible memory. A memory like a … What’s the expression again?”
“Like a sieve? Or goldfish?”
“Yeah, like a sieve.”
Mine’s like a hermetically sealed jar, thought Noel, a radioactive-waste container.
JJ slurped down the last of his tea. “A guy goes to a doctor. ‘I think I’m losing my short-term memory,’ he says. ‘Really?’ says the doctor. ‘Just how long have you had this problem?’ The guy looks at the doctor. ‘What problem?’”
“Right, I’ve heard—”
“I’ve got a memory like a sieve, you’ve got a memory like an elephant.”
“Well … I think that’s a myth. Elephants don’t really have great memories.”
“They don’t? You sure? Which animal has the best memory?”
“The sea lion. It seems they never forget.”
28
JJ paused, recalling the time he went to MarineLand in Niagara Falls with his parents, when he burst into tears while watching a sea lion balance a ball on its nose. His mother thought he was frightened and tried to pull him away by the hand, which made him resist and wail even louder, hysterically. But it had nothing to do with fright; it was simply too much beauty to bear, too much joy, and something had to give. “It’s not Alzheimer’s, is it Noel? Please don’t tell me your mother has Alzheimer’s.”
“I’m afraid she does.”
“Oh my God. I’m so sorry, Noel, I … That must be so hard—on both of you. To see your mom change before your eyes.”
“Yeah, she … she’s not the same person.”
JJ put his hand to his cheek, like a bad actor. “Like in
Total Recall
. You remember?”
Noel said that he did.
“The psychic mutant baby, covered with slimy mucus? Who asks Arnold Schwarzenegger what he wants?
The same thing everybody wants,
says Arnold.
To remember
.”
“I recall the scene.” And those aren’t the right words.
“
Why?
says the mutant.
To return to who I was
, says Arnold.”
“Right.” JJ’s German accent, thought Noel, sounded oddly Jamaican.
“So you said your mom’s getting better, becoming more herself?”
“Well, she got a bit of lucidity last night. She remembered something important—and fairly complex. I’d given her something new in the morning.”
“What’d you give her?”
“Oh, you know, the brain-booster-of-the-month. A real witch’s brew.”
“That you made yourself? Really? What’d you put in it?”
Noel shut his eyes. “Choline bitartrate, dimethylglycine, dimethylaminoethanol, phosphatidyl choline, phosphatidyl serine, acetyl-L-carnitine, L-phenylalanine, alphalipoic acid, dehydroepiandrosterone, theobromine. Plus compounds of boron, manganese, zinc, copper, silicon—the standard brain-power elements.”
“Hmm. No herbs?”
“A bit of black bryony, that’s it.”
JJ squinted, made a steeple with his fingers. “Black bryony. European yam, am I right? To improve blood circulation in the brain?”
“Right.”
“So it worked?”
“Seemed to. I mean, to some extent. Except she’s been peeing from morning to night.”
“Right. Next batch, take out the bryony, replace it with a bit of brahmi and butcher’s broom. They do the same thing. Increase blood flow in the brain. But no side-effects.”
Noel nodded. “Brahmi, butcher’s broom. OK.”
“Even better is
qian ceng ta
, also known as Hyperzine A. It’s a Chinese herbal extract that balances abnormal chemistry. And restores acetyl … whatever.”
“Acetylcholine.”
“Right. I can get everything off the Net, cheap. Couriered the next day or it’s free. And don’t forget balm and sage, which are colisterine inhibitors.”
“Cholinesterase.”
“Right. And in your next brew, throw in some milk thistle extract. Very good for the old grey matter. Oh, and a pinch of yerba maté, which fights ageing and wakes up the mind. Round it all off with a bit of gingko biloba and you’re sailing. Keep your mom in fine fettle.”
Noel laughed. “OK.”
“I mean, you’ve tried inorganics, right? They’ve not worked, so let’s go natural.”
“But some of them
have
worked. It’s just that some of the compounds have killer side-effects …”
“Like peeing.”
“Worse than that.”
“Anal leakage? Premature evacuation?”
“And nausea, cramps, vomiting. And the new ones I want aren’t approved yet—like Memantine, which is only available in Europe—or else need special equipment to make, or the ingredients are ridiculously expensive—”
“I might be able to help you out there. Have you tried tincture of rosemary? I once tried rosemary, puffer powder and salmon oil before a memory test and got a perfect score. And once Dr. Vorta gave me some …”
29
But Noel was distracted. When he was tired his mind could wander badly; a single word could propel him into another time, into the back pages of his youth. With the word
rosemary
, Noel’s cortex lit up like a Christmas tree. After mad Ophelia (“There’s rosemary, that’s for remembrance”) came
The Three Musketeers
:
On the following morning, at five o’clock, d’Artagnan arose, and, descending to the kitchen without help, asked for some oil, wine and
rosemary
, among other ingredients, the list of which has not come down to us. With his mother’s recipe in his hand, he composed a balsam with which he anointed his numerous wounds …
Then
Don Quixote
:
Sancho did as he bade him, but one of the goatherds, seeing the wound, told him not to be uneasy, as he would apply a remedy with which it would be soon healed; and gathering some leaves of
rosemary
, of which there was a great quantity there, he chewed them and mixed them with a little salt …
And finally Jules Verne’s
The Mysterious Island
:
Herbert gathered several shoots of the basil, balm, betony, and
rosemary
, which possess different medicinal properties, some pectoral, astringent, febrifuge, others anti-spasmodic, or anti-rheumatic …
A muffled voice, as if heard through glass, penetrated Noel’s dead zone: JJ’s voice, his boxy wax-crayon colours.
“Earth to Noel, come in please. Earth to Noel …”
Noel shook his head, as if surfacing from a dive. “Sorry, JJ, I was just …” He had not lost sight of the topic, but could see it only dimly through the semi-transparent pages. “… thinking about rosemary.”
“According to a study in England, it’s supposed to increase alertness and long-term memory by fifteen per cent. Does she use lavender? In her hand soap or bath oil or anything else?”
With a few dry sprigs of rosemary and lavender stuck here and there between the leaves …
Noel was off again, this time with Charles Lamb, but the scrolling words were suddenly frozen by JJ, who pinched him on the side of the neck, hard. Noel, startled, rubbed his neck. What was going on? The pinch had a sobering, clarifying effect. “Yeah, I … I’m with you. We were talking about … lavender. It’s one of my mom’s favourite scents. In the summer the backyard’s full of it.”
“Get rid of it. Torch it. Lavender oil slows the brain and impairs memory. It’s good for diaper rash, that’s about it.”
Where do you get all this information? Noel wondered, as he continued rubbing his neck. Is it reliable? And what the hell did you just do to me? “Where do you get all this information? And what was that … pinch all about?”
“All my knowledge comes from the Web. I once surfed for seventy-two hours straight. Which I believe is a record. It’s totally addictive, eh? It’s like what Norval said about sex. ‘It started off recreational, ended habitual.’ I love that line. That guy’s amazing, eh?”
“Yes, he is. But the neck pinch. What was that all about?”
“Upper thunder point.”
“Acupuncture?”
JJ nodded. “
Shanshangdien
. It’s used on stroke victims and people who drift in and out of consciousness. I learned about it from this Net sage from Shanghai. You know what we could also try? Some liquid Vitara. The ‘Viagra for her.’ I can get it in bulk, cheap, I’m talking drums of the stuff. It should give her a bit of clarity. A bit of friskiness too. Hey! You know what also might be worth a shot? Ricin. You know it?”
“Yes. It’s a protein extracted from the castor bean.”
“Shall we try it?”
“No. It’s twice as deadly as cobra venom, with no known antidote.”
“Exactly.”
“So the idea is to get rid of my mom’s Alzheimer’s by killing her?”
“It
would
kill her—if she took enough of it. The trick is to give a minuscule amount, a microscopic amount. Just enough to shock her cerebellum, get her brain cells dancing again.”
“I don’t think so.”
“We could try puffer fish.”
“
Fugu
? That’s one of Norval’s favourites.”
“Shall we get some?”
“No, it has the most lethal skin, intestines, liver and gonads in the world.”
“The Japanese are nuts about it.”
“It kills hundreds of them every year. Tetrodotoxin. It’s what Haitian sorcerers use to zombify their victims.”
“Here’s the kicker. The right amount—a minuscule amount—can kick-start the whole nervous system. It’s already being used to treat terminal cancer patients and heroin addicts! And it’s being researched— right here in Montreal—for other diseases!”
“Like Alzheimer’s?”
“Well, not that I know of. Shall I get some puffer guts at the sushi place on Saint Lawrence?”
Noel shook his head. “No.”
“Good decision. Speaking of Saint Lawrence, there’s a new oxygen bar—have you seen it? Beside the place that does microdermabrasion and laser hair removal? It’s got three flavours of O
2
. Passion fruit, grapefruit and … I can’t remember the third. Shall we take your mom there for a fill-up? Pump some good old O
2
into the upper storey?”
“No.”