The Curse of Curing Cancer

CHAPTER 1
Despite it’s relatively large population, there are quite a few good pockets of England for people to escape the big wide world. I imagine there are these pockets all around the world but not quite like England. And, even in England, there were not many places at all that could rival the anonymity of Woodbridge.
Woodbridge lies far away from any place of real note. In the underwhelming county of Suffolk, not as inbreed as Norfolk, not as pikey as Essex and nowhere near as pretentious as Cambridgeshire. It was named after a bridge there. This bridge was made of wood, it isn’t around anymore, it fell down. Woodbridge holds the highest number of retired spies in all the country.
This fact firmly supports the philosophy theorised in the previous paragraph. Spies can’t retire to a countryside estate because that would be too obvious. You know the sort of houses, isolated in forests or beaches or valleys. When convenience has been compromised for the sake of seclusion the owner has revealed that they would rather be left alone than, say, not have to drive half an hour to the nearest co-op. No no no, a truly discrete house is still connected to society. It is society, or rather busyness, that hides places. Not too much, but then again, not too little. In the same way as the Earth’s atmosphere is just right to support human life, Woodbridge is just large yet small enough, just busy yet quiet enough for the retired spy.
But even within a discrete village like Woodbridge there are discrete streets. Furthermore, it logically follows that on these discrete streets there will be particularly discrete houses containing particularly discrete residence. Jackson Pervis was maybe the fourth most discrete resident of Woodbridge. He’d briefly considered being the most discrete person in Woodbridge but he concluded that being first place at anything, even being discrete, had an element of notoriety. Further thought led Mr Pervis to believe that even a podium finish was too conspicuous so he had settled on fourth.
Mr Pervis, Jackson if you will, was not a spy, he was a postman. A professional that bizarrely consists of walking all the way through the village and yet not being easily recognised by anyone at all. Do you know your postman’s face? The people of Woodbridge do not. Postmen earn an exceedingly modest wage but that didn’t bother Mr Pervis because he had never splashed out on extravagances such as a TV, fancy clothes or, indeed, a family. Jackson had survived on meal deals and the same dated clothes he had owned since university. In case anyone was interested, Jackson’s clothes had been dated even in his university years; he saw clothes as more of a guardian of modesty than an extension of one’s identity…or the identity one wishes to portray.
For Jackson, at this particular moment, it was a Thursday early evening. This was significant for two reasons. Firstly it was the day Jackson left his house, turned left, walked five minutes up Elkan Avenue and entered into his local corner shop, as he did every Thursday, and given the information I have already divulged concerning Jackson Pervis you should know exactly where he went. Jackson surveyed the meal deals, even though he always bought the same thing: two Spaghetti Carbonaras, two Chicken Kormas, two Shepard’s Pies and a can of Tomato Soup for Monday. He could get it all for £12.50 which made sound financial sense, nevertheless Jackson’s eyes lingered, just for a moment, on the Thai Roast Chicken with mango & apple salad paired with a strawberry & almond tart and a rather charming bottle of Chardonnay. His mouth began to water so his brain kicked in, this meal cost £10, that was almost his entire weeks budget gone. Jackson say food as more of a required fuel for his body and less of something to be savoured and explored. This extended to drink too, consequently meaning that alcohol did not play a part in Jackson’s life. Jackson didn’t drink, he hydrated. Water did this very effectively and seen as it poured from his kitchen tap he saw no need to purchase anything else. Well, excluding tea, that had taken quite a heated debate with his ruthless inner logic. He had eventually won out by arguing that the drugs inside tea were useful to keep him alert in the mornings when he needed to work and in the evening when he indulged in his hobby. A hobby had been allowed because it seemed like a psychologically healthy thing to do.
Anyone watching Mr Pervis at this time would have only seen a man standing for about fifteen seconds at the meal deal section. A really careful watcher would have noted that his hand briefly twitiched towards a delicious looking chicken dish before abruptly changing course to some rather less appetising but much cheaper meals and placing them in his bag for life. Of course no one was watching Mr Pervis.
Jackson prepared himself for the next necessary but nonetheless challenging stage of his Thursday shopping ritual. As he approached the counter he arranged his face into a polite smile that had been perfected many years ago for this very scenario.
“Hello Mr Pervis, how are you this Thursday? Oh, no need to scan it Mr Pervis, it’s always the same items on a Thursday. That will be £12.50, sir. Thank you, now how are things at the post office?” Said Tessa Bailey, the regular cashier who anyone other than Jackson would have noticed was young, pretty and female. Jackson, on the other hand, found her extremely difficult. He needed food and he was perfectly willing to give money for it as the law demanded. The additional social interaction that Tessa seemed so keen on exhausted Jackson.
“I am perfectly well, thank you for asking. The post office is functioning perfectly well as well…er…thank you for asking.” Mumbled Jackson, hoping that the abruptness of his response had been countered with the politeness of not one but two thank yous.
“Dear Anna Watson at the desk has been pregnant for ever so long now, when is she due?”
“I am sorry, I can’t help you there, I was unaware Mrs Watson was pregnant.”
“But Mr Pervis don’t you see her every day?”
“I…er…I do, to collect my rounds. I…er…”
“Goodness me, Mr Pervis. How could you miss it, she is enormous!”
“Well…I…er…I am sorry, I must be going.”
“Of course, do enjoy your ready meals Mr Pervis, see you next Thursday!”
“Ah, yes, Thank you again…for the ready meals.” Jackson called, already in full retreat out of the corner shop.

Jackson enjoyed all five minutes of the walk back to his house, savouring his victory in procuring seven ready meals yet again. Four of which went in his fridge, two of which went in his freezer and one of which went in the microwave. It was Thursday and so it was the turn of the first carbonara which Jackson quickly demolished with a glass of water.

I have now finished laying out the details of the first significant event of this specific Thursday. In fact, looking back, I may have gone into rather excessive detail about it. I may have even lost a few readers who feel their time is better spend reading books that aren’t about social inept people buying meal deals. Baring this in mind, I will now concisely tell you of the second significant event:

After dinner, Mr Pervis proceeded to indulge in his hobby; scientific experimentation. Not the Dr Frankenstein style experimentation, Mr Pervis wasn’t making a monster, Dr Frankenstein really had given scientific experimentation a bad name. Anyway, on this Thursday, Jackson Pervis realised that he had, completely by accident, discovered the cure for cancer.

Cancer didn’t consider themselves a villain. They never asked to be brought into existence. In fact, Cancer had never felt good about the fact that they were born out of a mistake of the genetic code. A mutation that occurred every now and then without reason or design. Cancer was well aware no one had asked for it to be born either but the fact was Cancer did exist and it, like almost every other living creature, could only act in the way that it’s own nature allowed it to. It just so happened that Cancer’s specific nature was to multiply rapidly and spread throughout the host’s body until that very host died. And no one could have been more devastated than Cancer when it’s host died. Well, once the host was dead, Cancer died too, all Cancers are rooting for their hosts to survive as long as possible, no one ever considered that. No, no, no, no one would ever see the good in Cancer. Cancer liked to think they were very diverse, it came in many different shapes and sizes but no one seemed to like any of them at all. Cancer had no prejudices, it was happy to dwell inside any race, gender, sexuality or age. The truth of the matter was Cancer could never understand why humans hated it so much and humans could never understand how their hatred made Cancer feel. Cancer, to humans, is a murder. A serial killer that had effected around a third of all the earth’s population, either directly or through the loss of loved ones. Cancer and Human’s nature is, in fact, the same. Every living things’ nature is the same: to stay alive, otherwise they don’t stay living things. Cancer and Humans are driven by a need to stay alive for as long as possible. Unfortunately this shared nature inspires directly antagonistic survival instincts. Humans must live so try to kill Cancer and Cancer must try to kill humans to stay alive.

Jackson Pervis stared at his petri dish for a good long while. Of course, it didn’t seem like a long time to him because he had such a lot going on inside his head. Jackson stared and stared. The cure for cancer stared back. I wasn’t just a cure for lung cancer, or leukemia, or prostate cancer, bone cancer, breast cancer, any cancer you could think of, in any place. It was a cure for all of them. It was more than a medicine, it was a strategy. I would love to explain to you how Jackson founded this miracle cure but I’m afraid you simply wouldn’t understand. But I can tell you it targeted the cancer cells wherever they may be hiding and obliterates them. This isn’t special in itself, lots of things can do this. Cyanide, for example, when placed near the cancer cells will destroy them. However, it will also take out any other cells it comes into contact with this. When this was explained to even the most desperate of cancer patients they all determined that the negatives of this treatment might render the positives of eradicating the cancer a little pointless. The ingenious and unique nature of Jackson’s new cure was that it was able to differentiate between friend and foe and it did this by…well, as I said before, you wouldn’t understand.

Please don’t be offended by this, Jackson Pervis himself did not understand. We, as a society, tend to put inventors on a pedestal. We have a tendency to gape in awe and their untouchable intellect but there really are very few true inventors. Discoverers are a lot more common, people who have happened across something marvellous by pure coincidence. For example, Tim Burners-Lee invented the world wide web but Columbus discovered two continents. Burners-Lee spent years working at CERN after receiving a first in Physics from Oxford University, he is a genius. Considering Columbus was sailing for Asia, the fact he ended up on the Caribbean Sea suggests that he is very much not a genius. However, the outcomes of both have shaped the progression of the human race. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t deserved but Jackson Pervis had discovered the cure for cancer.

His mind whirled with activity and he engaged with the greatest debate he’d ever had with his own mind. Thoughts tumbled and he fumbled for the comforts of naivety that had shrouded him but a moment ago. Of course, we could never hope to ever know what truly went on in Jackson’s head. It’s a wonder so many humans are able to co-exists with each other when we are all locked up in our own heads, unable to ever experience true, holistic empathy. Because neither I nor you can say we are Jackson Pervis, neither of us could ever comprehend the magnitude of the battle raging in Jackson’s head……….buuuuuut, if we could, it would read a bit like this:

Jackson: Golly, I appear to have invented the cure for cancer.
Mr Pervis: Stupid man.
Jackson: Golly…I’ve…golly.
Mr Pervis: Jackson, you know what this means don’t you.
Jackson: It means I’ve cured cancer.
Mr Pervis: No Jackson, what does this mean for you.
Jackson: It means that I’ll have to…golly.
Mr Pervis: You can never tell anyone about this! That will be IT then. Fame, a media frenzy, meeting with very important people. You aren’t an important or interesting man, Jackson, you know that.
Jackson: I wouldn’t want that at all. But this could save lives.
Mr Pervis: Save lives? SAVE LIVES?!?! This will your life!!! We’ve worked so hard for this, Jackson. Peace, quiet, space in which to live our lives unjudged and undisturbed.
Jackson: You’re right aren’t you…golly.
Mr Pervis: Why disturb the universe? What makes you think you have the right to steer the course of mankind? You aren’t a great man, you’ve never wished to be.
Jackson: I’ve only ever wanted to BE.
My dear man, no one need know, right now even you don’t know how you’ve done this.
Jackson: You are quite right.
Mr Pervis: Destroy it, now.
Jackson: I will.
Mr Pervis: Do it! DO IT NOW!!!
Jackson: Ah.
Mr Pervis: What? What is it?!
Jackson: I can’t.
Mr Pervis: Now, Jackson. You can. You can and you must.
Jackson: No, I can’t.
Mr Pervis: I…you…(sigh)…go on then, why can’t you do this?
Jackson: Well, I…may I ask a question?
Mr Pervis: As long as you do so quickly.
Jackson: Is the act of knowing of a means of preventing death yet choosing not to use those means…is…is that murder?
Mr Pervis: Hhhhhmmmm…I hadn’t thought of that.
Jackson: Not only murder but mass murder.
Mr Pervis: Wait a second, let me think. Well…ah, yes! Let’s think about murder. It is the unlawful, predetermined killing of one human being by another. Hhhhmmm...
Jackson: Well I could certainly see us getting sued, sued by billions of heart-broken, angry people. I could see them winning too so that makes it unlawful.
Mr Pervis: That’s presuming they would find out
Jackson: And with every second we continue to think these thoughts we are condemning ourselves to predetermination.
Mr Pervis: Ah, how irritating. BUT!!!! My dear man, is the act of killing synonymous with the act of neglecting to prevent a killing. That in itself implies there is a killer for us to neglect to prevent. Cancer is the killer, we are just a bystander, Jackson.
Jackson: That’s clever, and it’s probably right, you know.
Mr Pervis: Good, now destroy the cure!
Jackson: I can’t.
Mr Pervis: Why!
Jackson: Because as persuasive as your argument is. It wouldn’t take away one ounce of guilt.
Mr Pervis: So you are going to tell the world are you? Bring the whole world’s attention onto us!? That is insanity!
Jackson: We…we must
Mr Pervis: We…n…I can’t.
Jackson: Why?
Mr Pervis: You know why, man! Don’t you remember why we’ve worked so hard to achieve this level of solitude. People…well, they don’t like us. Not when they know us, not when they really know you and me. They never have so it follows that they never will. You promised me we’d never be that vulnerable again. Yet now you want to do this.
Jackson: Ah.
Mr Pervis: So what are we going to do?
Jackson: Well I can’t give up our anonymity to release this cure into that world without you to justify it.
Mr Pervis: And I can’t destroy the cure to protect our anonymity without you to continue to live with it.
Jackson: What are we going to do!?
Mr Pervis: Seen as there is no positive outcome the choice is between what kind of misery we are going to live the rest of our lives with.
Jackson: We have to release they cure.
Mr Pervis: I can’t. Destroy it!
Jackson: I can’t!
Mr Pervis: YOU MUST!!!
Jackson: YOU MUST!!!!!
JP: Ahem
Jackson: Who are you?
JP: That is inconsequential. Just know that, luckily for you, I am here and I must say you are both being unbearably dense.
Mr Pervis: Oh I see, and how is that?
JP: You believe you only have two choices when there is a third.
Jackson: A third choice?
JP: Yes, people very often forget it.
Mr Pervis: What is it, man?!
JP: Do neither. Do nothing.
Jackson: Ah.
Mr Pervis: That will work.
JP: Yes…for now.
Jackson & Mr Pervis: Ah.

Having just been inside another human being’s head it seems a little peculiar that instead of receiving a higher level of understanding gained from 100% empathy as I predicted we have, infact, come out of the process a little more confused than before we went into it. But please, fear not, this is all by design. You see, Jackson Pervis is just as confused as you and due to the lack of any conclusive argument on either side of the debate our poor, poor Jackson elected to exist in a limbo until he could decide.

Having, at least, decided on one thing, Jackson decided to stop staring at the cure for cancer. He quickly threw a tissue over it, that was much better. Jackson looked at his watch and realised several things all at once. Firstly, it was 7:46am. Secondly, it was no longer Thursday, it was Saturday. Thirdly, he had been staring at the cure for cancer for 2 days. Lastly, he had missed a whole days shift with the post office. Jackson swiftly called his boss at the post office who informed him equally swiftly that after thirty years of working for the postal service, yesterday’s absence had been the excuse needed to fire Jackson and replace him, for a fraction of the price, with school boys on bikes. Jackson Pervis, who no longer worked for the postal service, then proceeded to through a way Friday’s Chicken Korma and then go about the draining and tricky business of doing nothing.