Talking Heads

Talking Heads


July 2052
Cryonics Life Preservation Laboratories
Somewhere in an Arizona Mall

Jake Redman steeled himself for the most unusual conversation during his sixty-nine years on this earth. The subject, a cryonically frozen head, was propped up on a tall table; they would talk eye-to-eye. Hours had passed while the subject was brought up to room temperature from over 300 degrees below zero.

The eyes blinked. Jake knew that the time had come. Their conversation must be short, very short; otherwise the subject could not be refrozen.

"Mr. Williams, Mr. Williams. I am Jake Redman, your caretaker for the past 50 years since you were frozen. Our time is short - let me get right to the point. Your bill is still not paid. We don't usually wake patients for 100 years, but..."

Ted Williams interrupted Jake, "Where's the rest of my body, you pipsqueak?" Ted tried to twist his head, but he could not. The rest of his body hung frozen upside down in the cryonics tank.

"Your body is over there." Jake pointed to tall tanks with liquid nitrogen huffing and puffing into them. Ted Williams had been frozen in two pieces. "Now, your son paid us only twenty-five grand; that leaves over a hundred ten..."

"In there? You took my head off - you scallywag..."

Jake interrupted Ted. "Not a problem. That way we can reconnect you to a younger body some day. Why, we got a rash of New York Yankees recently - those guys have tons of money - some of them with real big hands and big feet, if you know what I mean."

"Damn, I'd rather have my ashes scattered over that despicable Fenway Park, than become a Yankee. How are my Red Sox doing, young man? Ted's tone demanded some positive news.

"Good news and bad news, Ted. The curse was lifted way back in '04, forty-eight years ago. The Red Sox haven't won a World Series since - haven't even gotten close. Bostonians have returned to their perpetual state of despondency - it suits them. Jake detected a fractal smirk covering Ted's tundra-like face. Now, I would suggest we talk about the bill."

"My kid paid the bill..."

"I'd check with him, but he's stiff as a board over there in our newest "supersize" tank. Problem is that Bush 51 wants you for stem cell research. And since your bill's not paid..."

"Bush 51, bush league, get me outta here."

"I know, I know, it takes some explaining. Remember Bush 41? Well, W was Bush 43. Jeb was 44, Jeb II was 48 and Jeb III is Bush 51. It gets better."

"I'm sure it does," Ted yawned in response.

"They kept track of anyone who didn't vote for W in 2000. You can run, but you can't hide, yuk, yuk, yuk. And they need stem cells bad. Got it, Ted?"

The room had gradually gone quiet as the hiss of liquid nitrogen ceased. Jake heard voices murmuring from across the room, voices coming from an open tank of heads. He thought, oh my god, we didn't put the cover back on when we took Ted out.

Ted twisted his head over shoulders that were not there. He had an irresistible urge to scratch his balls. Instead, he let out a loud burp.




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