by Nikki Harmon
“So, Professor, is it important, the isolation? Because I seemed to be doing the same kind of tests on the plants …” I trail off waiting for some clarification.
“Oh yes, Kim. Well … it’s all part of the experiment. You and Peter are conducting the same test, but in different environments so that factors into the results as well. You’ll see when you read the results; it will all make sense then.” I’m not sure I believe him, but I want to.
“Professor?”
“Yes Kim, I really must get going. My wife is waiting for me.”
“Oh, ok, it’s nothing, I don’t want to keep you … “I glance at his briefcase. He follows my look, starts to edge past me and head to the main door but then he turns, studies me for a few seconds and asks, “How are you feeling Kim? Are you ok?”
“Yeah, just not quite feeling myself lately. Maybe I’m coming down with something.”
“Hmmm … well you can always visit the Health Center if you have a medical need,” he offers.
“Yeah, I don’t know what it is … I’m sure it’s nothing,” I reply.
He jumps when his cell phone starts to buzz.
“Ok, that’s the wife. I have to go Kim. Why don’t you come and see me Tuesday during my office hours? We can talk more then.”
“Ok, Professor. Have a good day.”
“Thanks, you too!” and with that he slams open the door and hurries through it. I watch him through the glass door until he turns the corner.
I walk down the hall to his office and try the door. It’s locked. I continue down the hallway to the labs and see that further down the hall, there are some students working. But my lab is up here, closer to the offices, lab number 19. It’s also locked, but through the window, I can see that there is a lamp left on for Mabel. I know it’s stupid, but I feel sorry for her. I turn to go when I notice a hole in the ceiling tile in the corner of the lab. It’s small but there’s a white tube just poking out of the hole. Maybe it’s some kind of ventilation fix. I squint at it through the glass and think I see a tiny red light. I blink, but I can’t be sure if it’s there or a reflection of some sort. I take a mental note to check it out on Monday when I come back for class. I wave goodbye to Mabel and head back out into the sunshine.
I am lonely as I walk through campus. I sit on a bench and watch the squirrels with their acorns. They are so fat this time of year. I try to identify some nests in the trees and guess how many live in just this part of the campus. I think at least fifty. Looking at my phone, I see it’s almost five o’clock. Maya and Lil’ Walt will probably be home soon, with my mother. I text Jen to see what’s up with her. She texts back that she’s working tonight. I text Kendra, she replies that she is hanging with Rob tonight. It looks like I have few options but to go ahead and get myself a costume. Might be fun anyway. I stand up and head for the train.
Chapter 6
Getting from West Oak Lane to Bryn Mawr would take about two hours on public transportation but Big Walter is nice enough to offer me his car for the night. If it were any other kind of party, I would hold fast to my independence and suck up the two-hour journey but since I’m dressed like an alien – gray mask, big bulbous black eyes, long black cloak, and knee-high leather boots, I accept with grace and promise to bring it back intact.
After finding the LGBT house on campus, I park and steel myself. I adore Skylar but these girls at Bryn Mawr are very, very white, and it takes a bit to get used to them. They can be nice, but they can be just so … different. I pour a little Jack Daniels into my trusty flask and knock it back before I get out the car. When I step out, I pull on my mask. It’s hot and sweaty but the mask gives me a certain anonymity that I like. I have on black jeans and a tight black t-shirt underneath my cloak, but my boots have ass-kicking heels, and I feel powerful. Of course, it could be the Jack talking but I’m ready to have some fun.
I walk up to the three-story house. It is decked out in a weird mixture of gay pride and Halloween decorations; zombies with rainbow handkerchiefs in their pockets, drag queen Draculas, purple spider webbing. The music, classic disco, is blasting out the windows and despite the strobe lights, I can see lots of people inside. I go in to search for Skylar. Despite the feminist mission statement, I guess college girls feel just fine dressing in ways that objectify themselves as long as it’s for other girls. I see lots of “sexy” vampires, “sexy” nurses, even a “sexy” maid, which I find surprising. Most of the women are white, but there are a few Latinas and Asian girls. I look for other brown faces and find just one, Skylar. She is surrounded by Gloria Steinem, Frida Kahlo and Wonder Woman. Of course, they are debating who is the most important of the four. I make my way through the crowd and stop just behind Skylar who is on a rant about the Christian oppression of women. I wait until they notice me. One by one, the others grow quiet.
“Can we help you?” asked Frida.
“Only the one who speaks to the dead can help me. She is the leader I seek,” I intone in a gravelly voice.
Skylar turns and points an accusing finger at me and says in her best Angela Basset voice, “Who is it that wants to speak with the powerful voodoo priestess Marie LaVeau?” The whole room seems to turn towards us and watch.
I kneel before her and take off my mask. We break out laughing.
“You so crazy!” she says, hauling me up. The party resumes around us and she introduces me to her friends. They seem a bit thrown off by our theatrics. The feminist one-uppance disappears when Thelma and Louise come around with a tray of tequila shots. We all have a few, then the DJ plays Donna Summer’s “Bad Girls” and everyone gets up to dance.
Frida and Wonder Woman both come over to dance with me. I feel like quite the belle of the ball as I try to accommodate them. Frida starts to get more insistent though, reaching out to grab my hands, whereas Wonder Woman starts looking around and fingering her lasso as soon as we make it out on the “floor”. So I turn my attentions to Frida and to the music. I’m beginning to feel my drinks, so I just let go and dance. I love the idea of dancing with the artist, Frida Kahlo, but after a few minutes, I am not so sure about this girl. She keeps doing this weird snake-like dance and when she gets close to me, she grabs my hips. I can smell her breath, and it does not smell good. Her grabbing is throwing me off my rhythm. I look over the crowd and see Skylar in a heated discussion with a witch, or is it a Wiccan? To my right, I can see Wonder Woman dancing her ass off with a “sexy” nurse. I can’t take my eyes off her ample cleavage. I wish I had danced with her instead. In my drunken state, I realize that it is just like the muffin. I wish I had made a different choice and I think it again, hard. Then swaying with the music, I close my eyes and imagine the roar in my head. I visualize Wonder Woman in front of me with that cleavage. I wish … I see her in my mind and I push. I push with my mind like I am pushing something heavy through a glass wall. I push hard enough to break through it. I open my eyes. Wonder Woman.
She smiles and dances up close to me, teasing me with her hands and thighs. I’m drunk, but I realize what I just did. I look over the crowd. I see Frida getting freaky with a tall girl in a jumpsuit. Wow. I did it. And I am glad I did it. I take a liking to Wonder Woman and her curly black hair, and we dance most of the night.
Her real name is Diana, no really, and she lives there at the house. At the end of the night, she invites me up to her room, which she happens to share with Frida. By the time we get up there, Frida is already busy with an inmate from Orange is the New Black. Diana and I make out until we pass out. I wake up about 3am and spend 20 minutes trying to find my clothes. The inmate opens her eyes and winks at me. I wink back, grab my mask and tip out of there.
∆∆∆
Not much happens on Sunday. I sleep late, loll in bed “studying” until 4pm, take a shower, play UNO with the kids, eat dinner, check-in with Skylar, who is mighty impressed with my antics, and go back to bed. I had a typical lazy hung-over Sunday except for one thing. I remember what I did. The memory of choosing to dance w
ith Frida was very faint, like a blurry childhood photo – out of focus, with faded colors and weird angles but it was there.
I remembered pushing to change my choice, but I also remembered choosing Wonder Woman from the beginning. Frida was pulling on me, but I turned to Wonder Woman and suggested I was a threat to the human race. She took the challenge, “caught” me with her lasso and pulled me onto the floor. That memory is very clear. I go to sleep feeling proud, scared, worried and cautious. I want to talk to someone about it but it’s too crazy. Maybe I’m crazy. Maybe Jen is right, and there is something wrong with my brain. I try to think about it rationally and decide I will have to experiment. Tomorrow.
Chapter 7
Monday morning and I wait for everyone to leave before I head down for coffee. I don’t have anything to do until my lab session at 1:40pm. Well, I do have reading and a short paper due on Friday, and I have to work on my Honors scholarship application essay, but that’s not due until December 1, so I have time. I grab a composition book from the kids’ school supply drawer and settle down to write.
Journal Entry #1
October 25
History of the Problem
Day 1 – I first noticed strangeness last Tuesday night (Oct 19). I heard a loud buzzing in my head, my eyes got blurry and I saw a shadow on my doorstep.
Then same night, at the bar, I heard the buzzing, felt light-headed and saw a “vision” of myself kissing Meer in the bar.
Day 2 – Wednesday, nothing weird.
Day 3 – Thursday, in the subway, I heard the buzzing, felt my eyes get blurry and saw a shadow of myself with an old man, who I had just seen on the platform.
Day 4 – Friday, same thing, buzzing and disorientation at silk city and when I saw Jen and some drunk guy was harassing her. I saw it but it didn’t happen but I saw the same guy later and she knew him from work. he had bothered her earlier that day.
Day 5 – Saturday, pumpkin spice muffin incident. Same physical symptoms except I didn’t/but did order it. I wanted it /wished for it and it appeared. Skylar was there but didn’t seem to notice a thing.
Saturday night. I changed my mind about who I wanted to dance with and I was able to change my reality. No, it was like I was able to choose my reality because I definitely remember choosing Diana even though I kind of remember first asking Frida. Not first but also? But this time, I did it. I made it happen. I willed it to happen.
Day 6 – Sunday, nothing weird happened.
Day 7 – Monday, I will begin experiments.
Preliminary observations
It started with Amira, maybe she is the cause/catalyst?
Only happens once or twice a day, some days not at all so it’s not on some kind of schedule.
Happens near food or drinks, maybe music? Bar, restaurant, cafe, party. Maybe only happens in social situations?
Maybe has something to do with choices – muffin? Girl at party?
10:00am Experiment #1 – I will try to change a food I am eating. I will make eggs and a bagel. Pick one, then wish for the other and see if I can make it happen.
10:30am Result #1 – I first picked the eggs, began to eat, then tried to switch to the bagel but nothing happened. I couldn’t generate the buzzing and nothing happened. Eggs and bagel got cold though and ended up making bagel and egg sandwich.
10:45am Experiment #2 – I will try to change my clothes by getting dressed and then wanting to wear something else, probably jeans.
11:00am Result #2 – I got dressed in my sweats but then was distracted by a text from Jen. Something about her boyfriend. I could not generate the buzz and nothing happened. I turned on some music and tried again but nothing happened.
11:30am Experiment #3 – I will try to change an earlier decision. This past summer, when we found out I was going to live here for one more year, I asked my mom if we could paint the walls in my room because they’ve been lavender since 7th grade when I was going through my Purple Rain stage. She agreed but only if I picked white or ivory. I agreed. We painted, I hated it. I still hate it. I wish I had never changed it.
12:00pm Result #3 – I DID IT!!!!! I put on Purple Rain, I sat on my bed and remembered all the great times I had in this room, I visualized me in this room, sleeping, studying, listening to music, reading, making my robots. I wished, I made the buzzing and then the buzzing just happened on its own and I pushed, I shoved into a purple room. I opened my eyes and it’s purple!!!!! It’s purple. It’s purple. Wow.
But it’s weird because I have a memory of just telling my mom, nevermind if it had to be so plain. I remember that, and I remember her shrug and saying she liked the purple, I should keep it. And I looked around and liked it too. So I kept it, except I didn’t, not really. But my eyes are open now and it’s back how it used to be. I did it. Wow.
∆∆∆
I hustle off to school filled with wonder and anxiety. What have I done? How can this be? But I have to put all that aside and focus. I need all A’s in my classes this semester to even have a chance at this scholarship. I messed up last semester in Chemistry and it tanked my GPA. Strange happenings or no, I have to keep my eyes on the prize and beast these classes. So, for 5 hours, I’m at org chemistry lab, then linear algebra, then I eat some Chinese food off a truck – love those crispy dumplings and then it’s time to go to work. At lab 19.
As I enter the building, I look at Professor Patel’s office door, but it’s locked tight, frosted windows dark. I walk down the hall, sign in the log, close the door behind me and take my seat. Mabel looks a bit droopy today so I croon to her and ask her how she’s doing. I inspect my lab kit and read that we are using a particular kind of manure that is supposed to be a very potent growth agent. It’s interesting until I take the cap off. Seriously, I’m stuck here with this smell??? I’m so disgusted I almost forget to check out the hole in the ceiling. Luckily, I roll my eyes enough times that I happen to catch a glimpse of it … and the little red light. From my vantage point, it’s almost perfectly camouflaged by ductwork and the fluorescent light casings. I have to get up, stand on my chair and crane my neck to get a decent peek at it. I expend all that effort, but I don’t really learn much more than when I was outside in the hall. There’s a small tube, about ½ inch in diameter. I think I can make out a mere hint of airflow (or some kind of flow) coming from it. The dot of red light is barely discernible from my angle and looks to be nowhere near the opening. It looks like the opening reaches far back into the ceiling cavity. Oh well.
I drop back down to the floor and check out Mabel. She looks sickly. I check her soil; it’s perfectly moist but not wet. The pH monitor reads 5.7, also perfect for her. I look at the thermometer on the wall – a comfortable 72 degrees. Near the thermometer, I notice something strange. Peeking out from under the wallpaper is a sliver of something metallic. I try to pull up the wallpaper, but I can’t without it being obvious. I check all around the thermometer and don’t see anything else. Then I roam the room and look around all the embedded plates and the trim. I see four more teeny slivers of metal but cannot pull up the wallpaper any further. I inspect the corners of the room and try to squeeze behind some of the heavy desks. Jackpot! I moved a desk and found a small tear in the wallpaper, probably caused by the edge of the desk rubbing up on it. I can put my pencil tip in the nick and pull out the edge so I can see. I shine my iPhone flashlight down there and am dazzled by the light reflected back at me. Metal, all metal. This room is lined with metal. My heart starts thumping, and I get a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I extract the pencil, turn off the flashlight, nudge the desk back into position and sit down.
The alarm startles me. Time to hit Mabel with more manure. When I’m done with the spray, I go back to wondering what the hell is going on. Why would this room be lined with metal? I mean, I’ve heard of metal lined rooms like Faraday cages, but they are basically used to block out radiation. We’re doing experiments on a sweet potato vine. I hardly think we would need that kind of protection for Mabel
. Maybe it just happens to be lined and is incidental to the experiment. But then I think about how far away this lab is from all the other labs where the student workers spend most of their time. They are halfway across the building. I am here. I consider various explanations for a long time but don’t come to any conclusions. I try to read my textbook, but end up just staring at the words, not comprehending anything. The alarm keeps me on task, but I am utterly discomfited. When my shift is over, I decide to ask Professor Patel about it tomorrow. I struggle home to bed and fall into a deep sleep.
Chapter 8
After my classes on Tuesday, I head over to Dr. Patel’s office. The room is dark and the door is locked. I double-check his schedule on the door and confirm that these are his office hours. I sit on a bench down the hall to wait in case he’s running late. I need to talk to him. As soon as I get absorbed in my reading assignment, the main door is jerked open and a huge guy comes strolling in. He’s at least 6’5” tall and almost as wide with a distinct bouncer look to him. He looks Russian or maybe Eastern European. He strides down the hall, scanning the names on the doors and stops at Dr. Patel’s office. He peers in the little window, tries the door to no success, then bangs on it for good measure. He makes a sound of disgust. Then, turning to leave, he sees me watching him. He walks over to me.
“Have you seen Dr. Patel?” he asks. Yup, he’s definitely foreign with that thick accent.
“No, I was waiting to see him myself. I haven’t seen him all day,” I reply with a shrug.
“Humph,” he snorts and then stalks off and slams out the front door.