The Sun Waker

By Adi D. Goyal

Like a cross between Forrest Gump and a TED Talk on the latest medical innovations.

Based on research and interviews with scientists and patients, The Sun Waker aims to captivate all while educating on different diseases and their potential solutions.

Will Julian be able to cure his daughter

• Language: English
• Publisher: New Degree Press
• Release date: Apr 29, 2021
• ISBN: 9781637301685

Book preview

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THE SUN WAKER

THE SUN WAKER

3 STORIES. 3 DISEASES. 3 LIVES...THAT ARE ABOUT TO END

ADI D. GOYAL

New Degree Press

Copyright © 2021 ADI D. GOYAL

All rights reserved.

THE SUN WAKER

3 Stories. 3 Diseases. 3 Lives...That Are About to End

ISBN

978-1-63676-701-7 Paperback

978-1-63730-066-4 Kindle Ebook

978-1-63730-168-5 Ebook

DEDICATION

To Mom, who lit the fire; to Dad, who sheltered it from the wind and cold; to Mrs. Cabrera, Dr. Suranna, and Mrs. Adams, for adding more wood.

DISCLAIMER

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, events, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. This book’s intent is not to prescribe solutions or treatments, but rather, it aims to show potential areas that are being explored to treat the diseases. Any health-related decisions should be made after consulting with a doctor or other health-related expert.

AUTHOR’S NOTE

Imagine not having any hands. That would definitely make things a little different.

Eleven-year-old Gavin Sumner was born without hands and fingers and had spent his entire life without them.¹ But on Christmas of 2019, he got something unexpected and surprising—the gift of being able to pick things up.

Gavin excitedly unwrapped the 3D-printed hands, put them on, and picked up a water bottle—for the first time in his life. His family members smiled and applauded. Some cried with happiness.

Before he got his hands, Gavin had to depend on his friends and family for basic tasks like opening things and lifting objects. With the 3D-printed hands, he could be much more independent and do what most people can do with no problem. Gavin calls them, a miracle come true. All that’s needed to create the new hands is a local 3D-printer and the right info for printing them.

Nice story, right?

What if I told you that some people are using 3D-printers to print guns from home?

That’s what Texan Eric McGinnis did in 2016 after he was prevented from buying a firearm because of his criminal record.² McGinnis built his own 3D-printed assault rifle—no background check needed. Imagine how easy it would be for people to get guns if all they needed was to download a set of instructions and pass it on to their printer.

I’m not sure how much the first story spread in the news. But I know the second one spread like a wildfire.

Knowing how easy it is to make guns with 3D-printers, would you feel safe? It might lead to more school shootings. Even if the technology can help people like Gavin, would you feel a little uncomfortable with the harm it may cause?

Many people are afraid of science and technology, afraid of what it’ll do to them. Polling done by the Pew Research Center shows that the number of people who believe that science has made life more difficult increased by 50 percent from 2009 to 2015.³ According to a 2017 survey by YouGov, only 35 percent of respondents have a lot of trust in scientists.⁴ And the number of people who do not at all trust scientists increased by over 50 percent from a similar poll conducted by YouGov in December 2013.⁵

While some people might think a technology will hurt them, they don’t know how important it might be for someone else. It also doesn’t help that science can be hard to understand if it’s not well-communicated. If people can’t understand it, they’ll be afraid of it. If they’re afraid of it, they won’t trust it.

This trickles to other areas in society to create new problems—how people feel about health experts prescribing advice for better habits like nutrition and exercise, about scientists who urge everyone to wear masks and social distance during a pandemic like the coronavirus, about companies that claim to be using their gene-editing technology for good when that technology is new, complex, and has a bunch of scary movies made around it. I firmly believe that more education isn’t the only answer—better education is important, too.

The best way to make something understandable is to make it relatable. That requires empathy or understanding how things look to others. One of the reasons why a lot of people have trouble with math and science in school is that it is hard to relate to.

Great movies and books do well because people can relate and understand a lot of things easily, like conflict and emotions. They generally prefer engaging themselves in entertainment over something academic, like a textbook on multivariable calculus. In addition, people will remember great scenes and dialogues.

So, I thought, why not try and combine the two? To use something uplifting, enjoyable, and memorable to impart knowledge and tackle the social issue of science communication?

I’ve always been influenced by entertainment growing up, and I have a habit of going through my favorite classics over and over again—movies made by studios like DreamWorks and Pixar, such as Kung Fu Panda and Ratatouille, the Bollywood film Sholay, and books like the Harry Potter series and The Hobbit.

I knew it could be powerful if I found a way to use classic entertainment as a medium to teach, and this book—inspired by my favorite books and movies—is the result.

I’m not the only one to try this—children’s author Mary Pope Osborne has used her book series, The Magic Tree House, to teach history; Indian film director Rajkumar Hirani has used his entertaining movies to tackle social issues. Both understand that people are impacted most when emotionally moved. Now I’m trying it with science, a field I’ve always been in love with. I try to put empathy at the core of my stories and at the core of communicating science.

I hope you enjoy what you read and discover something new about different diseases and the solutions that are being explored to help those with the diseases. Each story in this book is a journey waiting to be discovered. You’ll be whisked off to new places and adventures where knights in shining armor battle a terrible dragon. What trials and sights will they experience?

And, in the end, will they win… or lose?

---

1 AJ Abell, Clarksville boy without hands is gifted a 3D printed pair, FOX 17, December 29, 2019.

2 Texas man sentenced to eight years in prison for 3D gun, had hit list of lawmakers, ABC 13, February 14, 2019.

3 Public and Scientists’ Views on Science and Society, Science and Society, Pew Research Center, updated January 9, 2015.

4 YouGov, Trust Scientists, The Huffington Post, April 28 - 29, 2017, table 1, accessed February 27, 2021.

5 YouGov, Trust what scientists report, The Huffington Post, December 6 - 7, 2013, table 1, accessed February 27, 2021.

STORY ONE

THE CHECKLIST

CHAPTER ONE

THE FORGOTTEN BIRTHDAY

Julian strode over to his closet and picked out his clothes for the day—a dull khaki green shirt that was designed to never require ironing and a pair of elastic-waist dress pants that spared him the need for a belt. He wore this same attire every day.

He checked his watch: 6:30 a.m. Good. He was on time.

He looked around the bedroom of his apartment as he hastily pulled on his socks. It was well-decorated with photos and posters of inspirational quotes. Everything looked clean, organized, and pleasant to the eye. His wife really did have a knack for personalizing their home—of course, she did the decorating. He had virtually no contribution at all, unless you counted sharing the rent. Julian’s wife, Helen, and their ten-year-old daughter, Diana, occupied most of the photos. One photo had all three of them in it, taken just shortly after Diana was born. Not like he worried—he could worry about petty things like those once he retired early.

He didn’t bother checking his appearance in the mirror. It was usually the same. He had green eyes the color of emeralds and a slight bulge around his torso where his stomach was happily growing in size—whether due to lack of exercise or his penchant for quick meals that weren’t always the most nutritious, he neither knew nor cared. For years, his chestnut-brown hair had been left uncombed, and his beard, unshaven.

As Julian left the bedroom and hurried over to the kitchen, the aroma of chocolate-chip cookies reached his nose. He walked to the fridge, pulled out a meal-replacement drink, and guzzled it down.

He checked his watch again: 6:40 a.m. Good, good.

Just then, his wife Helen entered the kitchen.

Good morning! he said brightly.

Oh, hey. Helen barely glanced at him. Good morning, she said, smelling of baked cookies.

She wore a shirt the color of butter with a bear paw imprint on it. Her short, curly hair barely reached her shoulders. Heart-shaped earrings dangled from her ears.

She then paused, as if just realizing he was already dressed and ready to leave.

You don’t take it easy even on your days off? she asked, her chocolate-brown eyes scrutinizing him warily.

Julian frowned. My day off? He never took days off, unless he was sick. Maybe she was trying to be conversational. He’d have to keep it short, though.

No, he said.

Helen simply shrugged and opened the oven, checking the cookies inside, then closed it.

I’m making cookies for Diana; you can have them too if you want. You must be pretty tired of having the same drink every day.

Julian drained the last of his breakfast and tossed it in the trash can.

Can’t. I’m heading off to work. He grabbed his lab coat and made to leave the kitchen, but Helen stopped him.

You…what? she asked, as if she hadn’t heard him right the first time. Julian thought he saw a trace of fear in her eyes. She looked resigned for the worst.

He stared back at her, wondering why she seemed so confused. Work! You know, when you do tasks and—

Helen put her head in her hands and momentarily covered her face, exasperatedly, wearily, as if she couldn’t believe his words. But the moment of weakness was brief. She then gritted her teeth and clenched her fists, staring daggers at him.

You forgot. Her voice was deadly quiet.

Julian gulped and tried to remember what he forgot. He hastily checked his watch: 6:50 a.m. He should’ve been out by now. Forgot what?

Julian! she snarled at him.

Can you just tell me what I forgot? he asked irritably. I’m getting late for work—

"Diana’s birthday!"

Her answer hit him on the head like a baseball bat. Diana’s birthday. Of course, how could he have forgotten? Well, of course, he could forget. He’d had pressing deadlines at his research company this whole week. It’s not like they would just magically disappear, nor would they wait for him.

Helen looked ready to murder him, but just then, the door at the far-left end of the apartment opened. Julian’s daughter Diana peered at them blearily, rubbing her eyes. She was still in her pajamas, wearing a bright cherry-red shirt with a heart on it. She had his freckled face, Helen’s warm brown eyes, and was wearing colorful striped socks. Her eyes lit up when she saw Helen, who immediately smiled and pretended as though everything was alright.

Hi, Mom! Is everything okay? she asked cheerily, running over to Helen.

Helen caught her in an embrace and ruffled her shining hair. Well, look who’s up! Happy birthday, Diana! Her disposition had changed completely. Her eyes had softened as her expression became more loving. She held Diana back, studying her as if she’d changed a lot and appearing extremely impressed. You’re a big girl now! She laughed.

I know! Diana exclaimed excitedly, sporting a wide grin that also showed off the gap in between two of her front teeth. It seemed that the Tooth Fairy had come to visit recently.

She did indeed look big. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Diana awake. He usually left for work before she got up in the morning and would arrive back after she’d gone to bed at night. She must’ve grown at least a few inches since he last saw her.

Look what I got you! Helen said, placing a hand on Diana’s head and leading her over to the dining table, away from Julian. She handed her a present wrapped in sparkling blue gift paper tissue. Diana clapped her hands.

Oh, wow, you’re the best, Mom! Diana grinned broadly as she opened the box and pulled out her new science kit. This looks awesome!

She held on to her mother’s hand and bounced on the balls of her feet. Then she finally took notice of Julian, who was eyeing her with a mixture of awkwardness and pride.

Diana looked at Helen, who suddenly looked nervous, and then curiously back at Julian. She gave him a polite smile. Hi… Dad.

Hey, kiddo! He stuffed his hands into his pockets, scratching his head as he thought about what to say next. Happy birthday! How’re you going to celebrate? In the back of his mind, he remembered that work was calling.

She spoke to him in the same polite manner, as if addressing a teacher. Well, we’ll be donating my old clothes and toys, and then I’ll be helping out at the church, where we’ll celebrate with all my best friends right after, she said earnestly. Seeing that he hadn’t left to work yet, she beamed at him. You’re coming, too?

Diana’s expression looked so radiant that for a second, Julian was tempted to say yes.

No, I can’t. He tried to sound disappointed. Daddy’s got work.

Diana immediately slumped like a deflated bike tire. Oh… okay. She spoke to the floor in a small, dejected voice. All my friends’ dads pick them up from school… and they sometimes come to help out at soccer practice… and… they’re there at their birthdays.

At first, Julian didn’t know what to say. But then he knew what would cheer her up.

Don’t worry! He flashed a grin. When I’m retired, we can do whatever we want together! His eyes shone. We can go trekking in Nepal, surfing in Hawaii! It’s going to be awesome!

Wow. That’s great, Dad. Diana looked a little uncertain. As if she wanted to be respectful, she added, Can we also go to Italy and learn how to make pizza?

Julian’s eyes widened. Of course, that’s a great idea!

He quickly whipped out a folded piece of paper from his pocket, unfolded it, and smoothed it out.

He carried this paper with him everywhere he went. It kept him going through endless days and nights of work. It was a list of all the things he wanted to do after retiring early. It had about a hundred items on it, and he added an extra item to it occasionally.

See this list, Diana? He flapped it in front of her. This is a list of my dreams, and all the fun we can have once I retire early. And then— He spread an arm out as if the possibilities were endless —a long, free life! We can celebrate all your birthdays after that.

Diana nodded, hands behind her back. That’s really cool… Dad. She frowned as she said the last word, as if it felt strange on her tongue. I-I can’t wait!

Julian caught Helen’s eye, and he froze. She was glaring at him as if he was a very ugly slug that had left a trail of slime across their carpet.

Not knowing what she was mad about now, he thought he’d try one last thing to appease her.

And by the way— he held up a finger for dramatic effect —I have something for you!

Helen and Diana watched him curiously as he took out his wallet and filed through the different sections. Come on, come on. Something… anything—

Score!

He handed Diana a gift card with colorful bowling pins drawn on it. Here, this is something for you and your friends. You can take them bowling today!

Oh! Her eyes brightened in pleasant surprise. For a second, he was sure he’d made it up to her. That’s really nice of you… Dad.

He met Helen’s gaze again. The fire in her eyes hadn’t died. To make things worse—

It says it’s for you, Diana said, sounding confused.

Julian stared. Wha—?

He quickly snatched the card from her and inspected it. Sure enough, scribbled on the back, were words addressed to him:

Happy Holidays Julian!—Pedro. A smiley face was drawn right next to it. The gift card must’ve been really old because he couldn’t even remember who Pedro was.

Julian cleared his throat. Sweat trickled down both sides of his body and stuck to his shirt. Helen’s eyes were practically burning a hole in his skull.

They must’ve made a mistake at the gift shop, he said resolutely, shaking his head with disappointment. I won’t be going there again. You can bet that. He handed her back the card.

Diana took it. For an instant, Julian thought he saw her lip tremble. But he must’ve imagined it because she then smiled and said, Thanks.

He sighed, feeling grateful. He knew she would understand delayed gratification.

He looked around the living room, which—just like the bedroom—had been decorated primarily by Helen. A couple of framed photos adorned the wall, including ones of Diana riding a tricycle, of her splattered in mud after playing in the rain, of her playing with her stuffed animals.

He hadn’t taken any of them, and he didn’t care. When he retired, he would take as many photos as he wanted with Helen and Diana.

Julian checked his watch—7:10 a.m.—and jumped, as if electrified. Well, I’ll be off!

He made to move outside the kitchen, but suddenly, someone had held him back with a strong, pincer-like grip on his shoulder. With a wince, he saw Helen had turned and was giving her daughter an earnest smile.

Diana, we’re going to be late! she said urgently. Get ready and then you can eat breakfast!

Diana gasped. Oh! Sorry, Mom. I forgot. I-I’ll get ready… She slouched back to her bedroom.

Helen, in the meantime, was steering Julian to their bedroom. Her grip was getting tighter with every step.

As they entered the bedroom, she closed the door and released him. He wanted to tell her off for making him late for work, but her expression caused his words to shrink back down his throat. Her arms were folded, her jawbone set so tightly Julian wondered whether it was hewn from stone.

So, Julian. A vein throbbed in Helen’s temple. She looked venomous. "A gift card that was meant for you? Every syllable was charged with anger. Her voice was shaking. That was even worse than my anniversary gift."

Julian scratched his head, desperately wondering how he couldn’t remember what he’d gotten her. It must’ve been his age acting on. What… um… what did I get you again?

Helen rolled her eyes, like she saw this coming. A get-well-soon card.

Oh. Despite knowing how pathetic that was, Julian found himself smirking. He thought of ways to defend himself. I wouldn’t have used the card anyway. You know that. At least Diana can have some fun bowling.

"Oh, yeah, real thoughtful, said Helen through gritted teeth. If you actually spent time with Diana, you’d know she hates bowling."

Though he felt a little guilty, as Helen seemed hurt by his actions, he also felt a stab of irritation.

Look, I thought you’d get it by now. I’ll be more than happy to be with Diana! Just let me retire early and she’ll have me for the rest of my life.

Helen balled her fists, her face splotched with red. You’re her father, which means being her friend. Not just twenty years from now, she added as Julian opened his mouth, "but now."

Why are you so worried about her? She’s fine!

I’m her mom. It’s my job to make sure she’s getting what she needs! Her voice cracked. She looked scared. I don’t want to be like my mom!

Julian gaped at her, alarmed. Relax, Helen! You’re not. You’re a great mom.

Then please try and be a good dad, she pleaded, sounding weary. She stood up to her full height, the sun exploding in brightness behind her through the windows. Julian gulped as her shadow shrouded him in darkness. And if you can’t even do that much, then we might as well…

She suddenly sniffed, as though she’d just smelled something odd. Her eyes widened, and with a final look of disgust at him, she stormed out of the room.

Julian breathed a sigh of relief. Being next to Helen felt like standing in a crackling storm cloud. He couldn’t blame her for not wanting to be like her mom, who hadn’t exactly seemed very hands-on. She hadn’t even attended their wedding. But then again, he wasn’t attending Diana’s birthday party, so he wasn’t one to talk. At least he had a valid reason.

Helen, for the most part, seemed to be doing her job as a mother just fine. Maybe a little too fine. She was willing to drive an hour up north just to send Diana to a better school, as none of the city’s schools were any good.

Women, he thought angrily. Why couldn’t she understand that he was trying to provide a better future for Diana? Someday, when he and Diana were skydiving in Spain while she was typing behind a desk, she would eat her words.

As Julian recovered his wits, he smelled something burning.

The cookies. That explained why Helen had left. He hoped she had another batch ready, for her sanity. Before she could come in screaming again, he donned his lab coat and left the bedroom.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, he muttered, I’m off to make my dreams come true.

In twenty swift seconds, he’d strapped on his Velcro shoes and shot out the apartment door.

***

Cancer affected millions of people around the world, and billions of dollars were spent on fighting it. After a friend told him how much money his family had spent during their dad’s battle with cancer, Julian knew that this was the route he wanted to go. He completed the academic qualifications and requirements to become an expert in the field, spent several years gaining experience, and one day, created his startup. As long as he showed he knew what he was doing and he had a worthy idea, the money would come pouring in from investors. He hoped his startup figured out a smarter way to treat the disease. If it did, it would mean big, big money.

Julian entered the building and exited the elevator as it reached his floor, breathing in the smell of coffee as he strode over to the lab, his coat flapping behind him.

As he neared the door to his lab, he froze. He could hear hushed voices from inside the room that were doing a poor job of keeping quiet.

I swear, if the job market wasn’t so bad, I’d have left ages ago.

He probably knows that. I bet he’s just taking advantage of it.

And he expects us to kill ourselves under impossible deadlines.

Just our luck that we had to end up with this sack of dung.

What’d you call him?

No, nothing— the voice called a little louder —I called him a sack of dung.

Oh! Julian heard a chuckle. Yeah, that sounds about right.

Julian flushed with anger. Whenever he wasn’t around, his three lab assistants had a nasty habit of ceasing whatever they were supposed to be working on and gossiping amongst themselves. He couldn’t fathom why they did it. Usually, their talk consisted of labeling him with unflattering insults. If it weren’t for the fact that one of the assistants was half deaf and the other two had to raise their hushed voices to make themselves heard, Julian would’ve never known what they thought about him.

He wasn’t sure whether he preferred that.

He peered inside; the assistants had their backs toward him, their heads huddled together as they sat beside one another, deep in conversation.

Making sure they couldn’t hear him, Julian quietly entered the lab and rushed over to the coffee maker on the side of the room. The lab had an air of neglect and was packed with an assortment of different colorful lab equipment, glassware, bottles, containers screwed tight with blue lids, and tools that were scattered across the tables and the floor in a rather haphazard fashion. There hardly seemed to be any space left to put anything on the tables.

The trash can in the corner had clearly not been taken out in a while—it was full to the brim with empty coffee cups—and some of the cups had even fallen to the floor since the can became full. Julian made a mental note to get it