CRYEO - PART 1
“When you reach a certain level of success, your conversations increasingly become more surreal, because the limitations you once thought existed in reality, no longer do. The possibility of everything becomes now commonplace and the company you share this energy with, feel exactly the same way. You might even call it magic.” - Devlin B. Cooper (Success Is A Dream Come True)
Between Walt Disney and Howard Hughes, he found Walt far more easy to talk to on a level. He remembered meeting him one shimmering, crystal blue day at the Greenbrier resort.
Impressed with his square release, Walt had invited Devlin B. Cooper to play a round or two with him.
As a phenomenally successful businessman and aviation entrepreneur, Devlin did not feel in anyway star struck or in awe of his new golfing partner who just happened to be perhaps the most recognised genius of the 20th century. This same genius was currently struggling with his golf swing (which was noticeably stiff) and cursing the length of the grass.
“This fucking grass is too long! I told them a week ago it was getting hairy.”
After dominating Walt most of the morning with his aggressive but focused putting, he sensed that the most famous man in the world was struggling with something existentially outside of their game together. Rather than take his foot off the gas, however, Devlin felt he would gain far more respect from Disney by continuing to swiftly and pragmatically thrash him. He was Walt Disney for chrissake. He didn’t need any special favours just because he gave the world Bambi or Pinocchio.
Although it was a mostly warm day, there was an unusual, intermittent chill in the air that seemed to stalk them like a ghost.
As the two men further charted the course, their conversation took a turn for the profound.
“You ever think about immortality Devlin?”
“Only when I hit a hole in one, which only happened once.”
“I think about it a lot.”
Disney gazed at the dimpled golf ball in his hand which he kept throwing up a short distance into the air and catching.
“The truth is, I don’t plan on dying. Neither should you.”
Devlin wasn’t quite sure what to say at this juncture. He had pretty much all of his affairs resolved should anything happen to him.
“Where are you going with this pitch?”
Walt became suddenly animated as his eyes lit up like one of his cartoon characters.
“I really appreciate your curiosity Dev. Y'know I’ve had the idea ever since I first visualised Snow White’s glass coffin. Something lit a spark in me when I got to thinking about preserving oneself in a fairytale sleep and waking up in the future. I hear yogis do something similar in India. You spent much time in India, Dev?”
“Only the airports I built there I got to be honest with you.”
Disney smiled and teed up his next shot.
“I got one word for you.”
Devlin watched as Disney prepared his club for a swinging drive.
“Go on.”
Walt turned back and uttered the word in question …
“Cryopreservation!”
And with that, he swung his club and hit a ‘straight as an arrow’ drive that sent the ball as close to the flagstick on the distant green as he could possibly hope for.
Devlin clapped without hesitation.
“How’s that for immortality?” Disney crowed.
“Not bad.”
And with that the two men finished off the last part of the course and went back to the club house for a midday drink.
Walt left Cooper not long after as he had some serious calls to take regarding further global expansion for the company.
“You’re gonna need another planet soon!” Devlin joked to his friend as they shook hands in good spirits.
“I’m already working on it Dev! I’m sure you’ve heard of Pluto?!”
Devlin chuckled at Walt’s throwaway departing punchline.
Alone with his thoughts, swirling the frozen cubes of ice around in his crystal tumbler, he considered what Walt had privately expounded on over their game of golf.
From that day on, Devlin could not get Disney’s concept out of his mind. He couldn't remember a time when an idea had pierced his mind so profoundly.
The sound of Les Baxter's Unchained Melody in the background provided the perfect musical soundtrack for his transcendent contemplation.
And time goes by so slowly
And time can do so much
Are you still mine?
I need your love
I need your love
God speed your love to me
Grabbing one of the resort's postcard from a nearby stand, he clicked the thrust device of his pen and wrote down just one word.
"Immortality!"
Sixty years later, Devlin Cooper woke up from a deep sleep, similar to that of Snow White in her glass coffin.
At first, he could barely feel his body, so cold had the temperature been set at when he fell into his climate controlled sleep back in 1961.
The second thing he could hear was Frank Sinatra’s classic nocturnal album In The Wee Small Hours which he’d requested be played on a loop to keep his heart and mind in good shape throughout his deep freeze.
An attendant immediately alerted the support team to help ease Mr Cooper’s transition into the modern world without any huge trauma or shock that might send him into immediate cardiac arrest.
His first words according to the recorded transcripts were, “Can I get a drink?”
A couple of bullshots (vodka, beef broth and Worcestershire sauce) later and Dev Cooper was sitting up and entertaining everyone within ear shot, just like the great raconteur he always was. With little idea who he was talking to, it took a while for him to remember that he “wasn’t in Kansas anymore.”
“What year is this?”
“2021 Sir.”
“Am I contagious or something? Why are you all wearing masks?”
The team leader stepped forward.
“We’re kinda going through something at the moment.”
“Kinda going through something? Like what? A tunnel?”
“A pandemic sir. It came from China.”
“The slants eh? Now why doesn’t that surprise me,” he said without hesitation. Judging by the way the team recoiled from his remarks like he’d just shot someone, Dev had little choice but to ask the team what exactly was wrong with what he’d just said.
“We live in a time of heightened cultural awareness and sensitivity than was possibly the case in the year in which you were frozen.”
“Bullshit! You obviously haven’t heard of the black death?!”
“We’re talking about 1961 sir.”
“Yeah well, I’m talking about 1353.”
The team look utterly dumbfounded at Cooper’s bullish temperament.
“Now will someone get me another bullshot before I get personally offended.”
Out in the perfectly manicured grounds of his vast estate, Dev took his first steps, similar to that of a baby deer.
“Just like a toddler. Only with a higher alcohol content. “
Watching tentatively and holding his walking sticks, Marie, his physiotherapist, hovered close by.
“So. What have I missed?”
“I’m sorry sir, I’ve been advised to let the history expert in our team bring you up to speed.”
Dev seemed irritated by this calculated delegation strategy.
“Why can’t you do it?”
“They think I might not explain things sequentially in a way that will make total sense to you. Robert is far better at this sort of thing.”
“Well can’t you give me the highlights? Did we win the war?”
“Afghanistan?”
“No. Vietnam.”
“Sir. I was born in 1990.”
Cooper sighed.
“Alright. I’ll talk to Robert. Perhaps you can at least tell me what day of the week this is?”
Marie smiled.
“It’s Sunday.”
“Perfect, I’ll give them all a nice surprise at the board meeting tomorrow morning.”