Asher ✓

05 | hereditary

NOVEMBER 1, 2005 / DENHVOY ALVOROD MEDICAL CLINIC

Asher had major trouble wrapping his mind around the big words Dr. Polzin was saying.

They didn't even seem to be speaking the same language.

"Osteo-what?" he crinkled his eyebrows.

"Exactly the same reaction I had," Vasily laughed, attempting to keep the mood light and easy, though the topic at hand was not to be laughed about in any way.

Dr. Polzin repeated the condition, slowly and in segments, "Osteogenesis imperfecta. You can call it imperfecta, for short."

Imperfecta was definitely much easier to say, but it bugged Asher. He sounded a bit disheartened when he asked, "Like, imperfect?"

Vasily, who seemed to be extra-sensitive to his son's emotions, noticed the change in mood. Giorgi Polzin didn't and chuckled, "Smart boy. Yes, those two words are the same, but in different languages."

Imperfect.

Asher titled his head, looking at the cross section of a blood vessel sitting on Dr. Polzin's shelf. "And you're saying that's what's making my bones weaker?"

"Yes. Your body usually makes this protein called collagen, which makes your joints stronger, among other things. The DNA tests say that your collagen cells are healthy, but there's just not enough of them. So your bones get weaker, and are easier to break." Dr. Polzin looked to Asher's Bat-cast, "And that explains your fracture. Sixth, is it?"

"Seventh," Asher mumbled. "But how did I get it?"

"Well, imperfecta is a hereditary condition," Dr. Polzin pulled out a box of lollies from his desk drawer. Usually, Asher only got one after an injection. He took two handfuls of sweets, and laid them across the desk. "Imagine this group of lollies as the genes in your mother's body."

Asher tried to keep his eyes from watering when Dr. Polzin mentioned his mother. He continued, obliviously, pointing to the other handful of lollies, held separate from the other, "And these are the genes from your father's body. You do know what genes are?"

"Yes," Asher claimed, like it was common for boys his age to have a basic grasp of biology, "Mama was a scientist."

"Lovely," Polzin said.

Vasily was unsettled, fearful that this would bring some emotions to surface that Asher wasn't old enough to deal with yet - amongst the many other tragedies for which he was not prepared, but had to endure regardless.

Dr. Polzin grabbed four lollies from one pile, and four from the other and mashed them together, "And these are the genes you have in your body, half from your mother, and half from your father. One of them would have been a mutation, which means it's dysfunctional. That mutation is why your body doesn't have normal collagen levels, which results in-"

"-imperfecta," Asher completed. He reached across the desk, and grabbed four lollies from his gene pile. Dr. Polzin only watched as Asher fiddled with the sweets, before he asked, "Does this mean if I become a dad, my kid might get the disease, too?"

Dr. Polzin locked eyes with Vasily, surprised that Asher's mind had gone there. Vasily shrugged, the glint in his eye a tribute to his precocious son.

"Yes," Dr. Polzin said gingerly. "But that's a very low chance."

"I got it," Asher protested, voice raising emotionally, "So my kid could get it."

Asher's father stepped in here, seeing how unprepared Dr. Polzin was for this sudden flood of questions from an intelligent boy. No-one blamed Asher; he was only curious about why he couldn't go skateboarding with his friends, and why he couldn't play for any school sports teams.

"Thank you, Giorgi," Vasily said, "for answering his questions. We'll see you next month at the same time?"

"Absolutely," Dr. Polzin smiled towards the four lollies in Asher's grasp, "Keep those. You stay safe till I see you next time, okay?"

"Okay," Asher hopped off the chair and out the door, Vasily holding his son's coat and shaking his head.

If only Ekaterina were here, he wished.

The drive home was full of more questions, and more arguing. Asher said as soon as he was buckled in, "I'm not going to have kids, then."

"Don't say that," Vasily chuckled, very sure that his son's opinion would change with time, "You never know, you might meet a pretty girl and want to start a family."

"Or, I might want to spare my kid from what I'm going through."

"You can't exactly plan things like this, Asher," his father sighed. "You'll understand when you're older."

"I understand now," Asher complained, head thrown back on the seat, "I just won't do the thing."

Vasily looked in the rear view mirror, to see his son matching his curious gaze, eyebrows raised mockingly. Asher was too much like his mother - sarcastic, witty. Often too bright for his own good.

"The thing?" Vasily chuckled.

"Yeah, don't tell me you don't know what it is," Asher sassed.

Vasily laughed louder this time, "Oh, I know what the thing is. Do you know?"

"Yes," Asher proclaimed proudly. "Mama told me about it."

"Really?" The woman Vasily knew would never have told their son such a crude thing. "What did she tell you?"

"She said it's a chemical reaction. A substance from a boy and a substance from a lady mix to form a new substance - a baby. It's called the miracle of life, Papa."

"And did she tell you where the miracle of life happens?" Vasily questioned, and he pulled into their driveway.

"In a Petri dish, mostly," Asher supplied. "So I'm not going to go near any Petri dishes and then I can't have kids."

Vasily grabbed his satchel with his work files and laptop in it, and followed his skinny son into their house. Asher had a slight curve in his spine, because of the weaker bones bending under the weight of his head, and always looked like he was hunching over.

Under his breath, Vasily muttered affectionately, "If only children were that simple."