by David G. Daniel (July 2026)
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“The gel on this probe may feel cold,” warned the obstetrician.
“That’s OK.” Lisa was more excited than anxious. It was her first pregnancy. Lisa and her husband David would find out today if the baby was healthy and if it was a boy or girl.
“So far, so good!” said the doctor. “Here you see the heart with four chambers. Extremities and spine look normal, ten fingers and ten toes.”
“Almost certain it’s a boy. Have you picked out a name?” asked the doctor.
“David Gordon,” Lisa and David said in unison.
“Named after you, Dad?”
“Yes. But, you know, my grandmother, who grew up in the old country, she was always nervous, even after she came to this country. She said it was bad luck to name after the living. Dangerous, in fact. She said that, when it’s time for the father to die, the Angel of Death could take the younger by mistake.”
“My people came from the old country and held the same beliefs,” the obstetrician said. His dark, neatly trimmed beard framed a soothing smile. “And you, Lisa, are you superstitious?” There were faint traces of an accent underneath the doctor’s nearly perfect English.
Lisa thought for a moment, torn between the scientifically acceptable “No, of course not,” and something else she felt in her gut.
“I don’t know,” she had finally said.
***
Seven years later father and son paddled their johnboat into Lake Champlain on a cloudless, unusually hot, fall afternoon in the Adirondack Mountains. It was the family’s vacation week and the little metal boat had come with the rental cabin.
“Look at those turtles on that log,” David whispered.
“They’re so big!” David Gordon exclaimed.
“How many do you see, David Gordon?”
“One, two, three, four, five… ”
The turtles noticed the johnboat and two of the larger ones craned their necks, then plopped into the water in quick succession.
There was no hint of a breeze, the water was as smooth as glass. They paddled further from shore. “Look, son, see those birds on the water? Do you know what they are?” David asked.
David Gordon guessed, “Ducks!”
“What kind of ducks?”
When they drifted close enough to see their green and brown heads, David Gordon responded triumphantly, “Mallards!”
Very pleased, David responded, “That’s right!”
They watched the floating flock in peaceful silence until a nasal, quacking broke out from the sentry duck. It was quickly picked up by the flock into a cacophony as they rose almost as one and flew in a low, careening pattern to the east.
David Gordon looked at his father curiously. “What do you think spooked them?”
“Most likely, that storm,” David said, pointing toward menacing black clouds rising in the west. “We should get back; we don’t want to be in a metal boat in a thunderstorm.”
Just as they neared shore the squall engulfed them with blowing hail and blinding sheets of rain. David clamored out into waist deep water. “Hold on, I’ll pull us in.” Suddenly the wind shifted hard, the johnboat listed violently like a dog trying to shake off water. David lost hold of the bow. Bolts of jagged, brilliantly white lightning crackled like artillery exploding the towering cotton woods that honeycombed the shore. The last thing David Gordon heard was his father shout “Get out of the boat!” Before he could jump out he felt the tingle of electricity and saw a blinding flash of light.
***
Multiple rounds of CPR and defibrillation could not revive their son. When Lisa’s obstetrician learned of David Gordon’s death he asked to meet. After he consoled David and Lisa for their loss his demeanor turned strangely upbeat and he said, “We can produce cloned embryos genetically identical to your son.”
Flummoxed, Lisa stammered, “I didn’t know that was possible.”
“If science can clone a racehorse it can clone a human,” he responded with a reassuring smile.
“What are the risks?” interjected David.
“Premature aging and many others, known and unknown,” responded the doctor, handing them a lengthy informed consent document.
They read in silence. Finally, tears streaming and her voice cracking, Lisa said, “Risks or not, it’s our only possibility of giving our son his life back.”
***
After an uncomplicated delivery, the cloned David Gordon immediately latched onto Lisa’s breast, sucking strongly, just as he had eight years earlier. David kissed Lisa and drove toward home for a change of clothes. It was sleeting heavily, the wind howled and it was very dark. Just after a sign warned “Beware of Crosswinds on the Bridge,” a white deer stood transfixed, staring into the headlights. David pumped the brakes gently, but the front wheels locked, causing the car to flip, back end over front over the low embankment into the ice-covered river.
As the car spiraled downward and frigid water rushed in, David recalled his grandmother’s warning: “Don’t name after the living, when it’s time for the older to die, the Angel of Death could take the younger by mistake. Had the lightning strike that killed David Gordon been meant for him? Did he have to die now as restitution for the Angel of Death’s mistake? Or was it all superstition and coincidence? What mattered was that the cloning had given David Gordon his life back. Or had it? Would the clone be the same person as the original David Gordon? Would he have the same soul? Or was it just a genetically identical twin? He would never know. Maybe Lisa would, in time.
The light of David’s imagination scattered into a few tiny, darting meteors of light. Just before they flickered out, he connected the dots into a picture one last time. He recalled David Gordon just before they had launched the johnboat, posing for a photograph, smiling broadly. After the picture was taken and the camera set down, he recalled David Gordon smiling even more broadly, so he knew his son had really been happy.
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David G Daniel is a psychiatrist whose research on treatment of mental illness has been published in multiple medical journals. His fiction explores family relationships, the liminal state of consciousness and adaptation to loss. His debut novel, A Life Twice Given, was adapted for the stage by Gail Louw and awarded a grant from Arts Council England for a tour of 5 UK venues. He enjoys raising Australian Shepherds, hunting, heirloom gardening, and hiking and flyfishing with his family in the Shenandoah and Adirondack Mountains. He is the co-director of the DGLD Foundation which supports educational opportunities for disadvantaged youth.
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