Wes had received the instructions, but irritated by them he had passed on only the purchase list to Len and Karon. Irrationally, he still blamed her for not making the importance of the room arrangement clear. Most upsetting, however, was the possibility of a six-week delay. He had hoped to run the first tests this afternoon.
“Help Dr. Wilson with that end of the bed,” she ordered. “It has to be done before Daphne arrives.”
Wes walked to Karon’s end groping for a way to get the upper hand again. “I suggest we drop the titles—I mean if we’re all going to live here it’s going to get cumbersome.”
Wes was serious about not using titles, but he also liked reminding Ms. Foxworth she didn’t have a doctorate and no title to give up. When she didn’t respond immediately Karon spoke up.
“We’re pretty much on a first-name basis. I’m Karon with an o.
“And I’m Wes with all the usual letters.”
Ms. Foxworth stood staring at them, every second of silence more painful than the last.
“All right, I’m Elizabeth.”
“Beth?” Wes asked.
“Not Beth! Not Liz! And Liza will get you a black eye!”
They finished moving the furniture, speaking only when necessary, and then helped Elizabeth carry boxes from her car. When Elizabeth began unpacking Daphne’s personal belongings Wes offered to help but Elizabeth dismissed him, keeping Karon. Walking back to the lab Wes couldn’t shake the feeling he had been given permission to leave.
He worked in the lab for two more hours with Shamita and Len. The cable switch had solved one problem only to reveal more, and they still had to test the liquid-nitrogen lines. Wes realized he would be lucky to get his software running by evening at this rate and wondered how late Elizabeth would let Daphne stay up. Knowing Ms. Foxworth, he realized there would be a rigid bedtime to be adhered to. Gloom settled over him.
“Wes,” Karon called from the hall. “Daphne’s here.”
Wes’s heart raced with excitement. It was going to happen—Daphne would confirm that. Wes followed the others to the porch, embarrassed by his excitement. A car pulled to a stop in front and a man got out on the driver’s side—Elizabeth greeted him. Wes immediately turned back to the car, watching for Daphne, but instead another man stepped out. “Oh, hi Dr. Martin,” the man said. It took Wes a few seconds to recognize Ralph.
Ralph was twenty-eight years old and a big man at six feet tall. From his broad shoulders he tapered to a narrow set of hips and then spread into two muscular legs. His body had the elements of a bodybuilder’s, but it was misshappen by his posture. Ralph walked bent over with his shoulders drooping. His strides were the equivalent of two of Wes’s and he swung his arms widely like a gorilla. Most unattractive of all was his face. Ralph had an overhanging brow, bushy eyebrows, and large fleshy lips, which he shaped into a protruding pucker whenever he stopped to think. Ralph had no special abilities, and the only reason he was here was because Elizabeth Foxworth had convinced the foundation that Daphne needed Ralph to make the adjustment.
Wes was still confused when he stuck out his hand. Taking it instinctively, Ralph began pumping vigorously. When he spoke he did it in a near shout.
“Nice to see ya. We stopped for ice cream. I had chocolate and lemon sherbert on a pointy cone. Had the chocolate on the bottom. I tried it on the top once but that makes the lemon yucky. Daphne had chocolate-chip mint. You know, that green stuff. I told her it tastes like Scope but she got it anyway. She always gets it. Tastes like Scope ya know!”
“Yes, Ralph, but . . .”
“Nice house,” Ralph said, his eyes going wide. “Where’s my room? Never mind, I’ll find it.” With that Ralph strode up the steps.
Wes turned to see Elizabeth Foxworth smiling at him. Wes suspected that she had wrangled to get Ralph assigned to the project just to vex him. Then Wes turned to the stranger. He had expected to see Marshall Cotton, whom Elizabeth had recruited to assist her in caring for the savants. Marshall was nearly as fanatical as Elizabeth, but he was a bit easier to warm up to. Instead of Marshall there was a stranger, a short stocky man with a dark complexion and black hair. He had sharply defined facial features and thin lips, which were curled into a smile. The man looked genial enough, but Wes took an instant dislike to him.
“Dr. Martin,” Elizabeth began. “I mean Wes—this is my new assistant, Gilbert Masters.”
“What happened to Marshall?”
Elizabeth frowned and softened her voice. “He was killed. Hit by a car. His wife was there, and his daughter. It was awful, I guess. Gilbert showed up a couple days later looking for work. Very fortunate, actually. He’s well qualified.”
Wes didn’t like last-minute substitutions, and he especially didn’t like personnel decisions being made without his being consulted. Wes was about to challenge Elizabeth when he saw Gilbert staring at him—Wes decided everything would be fine. After all, this would keep the project on schedule. In fact, now that he thought about it, Gilbert seemed like a nice guy. Wes stuck out his hand and welcomed him.
“Thanks, Dr. Martin. I’m excited about this project of yours.”
Now Wes was dumbfounded. What had possessed Elizabeth to hire someone who approved of what Wes was going to do?
“We’re here, Daphne,” Elizabeth said, reaching into the backseat. “Are you ready to get out of the car?”
Daphne whispered back, but Wes couldn’t make it out. Elizabeth turned and walked to the door of the house, seemingly forgetting about the savant.
“What about Daphne?” Wes called after her.
Ignoring him, Elizabeth called into the house for Ralph. Seconds later Ralph strode out the front door with his extra-long strides.
“Did you forget about Daphne?” she asked.
Ralph leaned back and folded his arms across his chest, resting them on his protruding stomach. His lips puckered and his brow furrowed, and then he looked lost in thought. Suddenly he straightened and hit himself in the side of the head with his palm. It was a hard blow and Wes could hear the thump.
“How could I be so stupid?” he said, then chuckled and walked to the car door. “Come on, Daphne. I saw your room. It’s just like your other one. Mine’s different. I like it though. It has a window. I can see into the backyard. You want to look out my window?”
Daphne emerged from the car slowly and then stood rocking, her head down. Ralph took her arm and led her forward. Wes and Elizabeth followed. To Wes, Daphne seemed stressed, swinging her head back and forth as she walked, oblivious of everyone and everything except Ralph. They entered the house and went straight toward the stairs, but when they passed the archway leading to the living room Daphne stopped, breaking free of Ralph. Frozen in her tracks, she rocked back and forth.
Wes started forward but Elizabeth reached out, holding him back. Elizabeth pointed to Ralph, who turned back and then went into his thinking pose. Once again his hand swung up and he thumped himself on the side of his head.
“How could I be so stupid!” he nearly shouted. “Come on, Daphne.”
Ralph took her arm and led her to the piano. Daphne sat, lifted the cover, closed her eyes, and began playing “Give Me That Old-Time Religion.” As she played the rocking slowed to a stop. They all listened to Daphne play out the song, and then with a smooth transition she began playing “Throw Out the Lifeline.”
Wes became impatient. He wanted Daphne settled into her room, still hoping they could still make a test run that night.
“How long is she going to play?” he asked.
Elizabeth’s face reddened. “As long as she wants! You’ll get your lab rat when I say she’s ready, not before.”
Embarrassed by his impatience, but angered by Elizabeth’s patronizing manner, he was about to respond when Ralph interfered again.
“She’ll play a long time. She plays good doesn’t she? I think she does. Do you think she does? Sure you do.” Ralph looked around the room briefly and then turned back to Wes. “Got any gum?
No? Well, maybe I’ll just run down to the Seven-Eleven. Be right back.”
Ralph turned and walked out of the room. Too surprised to react at first, Wes sputtered an objection to Elizabeth.
“We can’t have him walking out of here just like that.”
“Why not?” Elizabeth asked.
“We’re responsible for him. I mean, he’s retarded—what if he gets lost?”
Suddenly Ralph reappeared and walked up to Daphne. Daphne kept playing while Ralph spoke loudly into her face.
“You want I should bring you a Slurpee?”
“Cherry.”
“OK, if they got it. I know what you like if they don’t got it. No grape, right?”
Ralph turned to walk out again, and Wes felt panicky. Ralph was a large man, and well muscled, and he didn’t relish the idea of wrestling with him, but he couldn’t just let him leave.
“Stop, Ralph!” Wes called. Ralph turned back, a smile on his face.
“You want a Slurpee too? I can carry three. I carried five one time. I spilled one, though. It was lime.”
“No, I don’t want a Slurpee. Ralph, you can’t walk to the Seven-Eleven.”
Ralph leaned back with his arms folded on his chest, and then he pursed his lips and nodded his head, a serious look on his face.
“Why not, Dr. Martin?”
“Well, don’t you think you might get lost?”
Ralph furrowed his brows into a look of deep concern. Suddenly his eyebrows shot up and his loose features reshaped into a happy face.
“No,” he said, and walked out of the room.
Turning to follow him, Elizabeth caught Wes’s arm.
“Let him go. He won’t get lost.”
“How can you say that? He just moved into the neighborhood.”
“He never gets lost. You didn’t read his file either, did you?”
“I read part of it,” Wes replied lamely.
“The part about his cognitive abilities I bet. You can’t see past your own twisted experiments. You got the savants on the condition that their needs are taken care of. That means more than just feeding them. Daphne needs to play, so she has the piano. Ralph needs to walk, so let him walk. He won’t get lost.”
Wes was about to protest but Ralph reappeared. He walked straight to Wes and then stopped. Unnerved by his size and the serious look on his face, Wes shifted nervously from foot to foot. Suddenly Ralph’s hand shot out and swung up. Wes flinched but Ralph thumped himself on the side of his head.
“How could I be so stupid? I don’t have any money. You got a couple of bucks?”
Elizabeth snickered while Wes sighed with relief and pulled two dollars from his wallet. Ralph took the money and left. Wes and Elizabeth followed him to the door and watched him stride down the street.
“I hope we see him again,” Wes said. “Does he have to hit himself in the head and call himself stupid? I wouldn’t want someone to think we call him that.”
“Worried about your funding?”
Wes hadn’t thought of it that way and he was irritated Elizabeth wouldn’t give him any credit for having a human side.
“He learned it from his father,” she continued. “I think it’s cute. Don’t worry, I know no one here called him stupid.”
Wes took that as a peace offering. If he or his people screwed up, Elizabeth would be on the phone to the foundation immediately, but it was reassuring to know she wouldn’t lie to stop the project. Still, Wes worried. If anything happened to Ralph his project would come to an end before it ever got off the ground. The piano music ended, then was quickly followed by “Amazing Grace.” “One walks and one plays! What’s next?” he asked absentmindedly.
“Read my reports,” Elizabeth said. “You’ve got some surprises coming.”
Unable to imagine what else could happen, Wes stood quietly watching Ralph stride out of sight.
4
TEST RUN
After Dr. Birnbaum’s accident he had immersed himself in the library stacks, combing the parapsychology literature. There were the usual reports of investigations into various telekinetic powers, but even the most promising of the reports indicated only subjects with mediocre talent. Only interested in his own abilities, Gil skimmed the reports quickly, exhausting the recent literature. Then he began searching in peripheral areas.
He started with hypnosis, which showed some promise. There was documented evidence of people who were able to eliminate pain through hypnotic suggestion. Childbirth without pain was possible, and even surgery. Appendectomies had been performed using only hypnosis for anesthesia, and even amputations. Of more interest were the reports that some subjects were able to increase physical strength during hypnotic trances, as much as fifty percent. But Gil wasn’t interested in physical strength and there were no reports of the technique used with talents like his. The research on hypnotically enhanced concentration intrigued him more.
Under a trance some subjects showed remarkable gains in memory capacity. Gil toyed with the idea of undergoing hypnosis but finally decided he couldn’t risk it. Being hypnotized meant giving up control over your consciousness, and he had too many secrets. Gil spent some time with the research in virtual reality but ultimately dismissed it as nothing more than a glorified computer game. The mind-altering-drug research was promising but frightening and he never seriously considered it.
Gil was reading the research on cognitive focusing when he found his lead. Cognitive focusing used a combination of relaxation training and meditation to eliminate sensory distractions and allow one to focus on a single ability. Gil had practiced this informally for years, but these researchers were using sophisticated biofeedback equipment to achieve remarkable levels of concentration. Gil was just finishing an article on the topic when he turned two pages by mistake. His eyes landed on the title of the next article: “Enhanced Intelligence Through Computer-Enhanced Epiphenomena.” The Dr. Wesley Martin who had authored the piece was not part of the parapsychology field—Gil knew that field well. The research described in the article excited him as nothing else had.
He bought a plane ticket to Oregon after visiting five ATMs and suggesting that customers forget to take their money. Gil ate dinner at the airport while waiting for his flight and then picked up a Columbus Dispatch to read on the plane. An hour after they were in the air, Gil discovered that Dr. Birnbaum had survived. He was in a coma and had lost one leg and an arm, but he was still alive. Gil was uncomfortable leaving unfinished business in a hospital bed, but reasoned it was more dangerous to return. Besides, he rationalized, Dr. Birnbaum’s new handicaps would preoccupy him for years.
Now Gil found himself lying on his bed, pleased with his progress. He was part of the project now, and trusted by the others. They would try Daphne on the machine tonight, and soon they would be linking her with the others. He needed a way into that link. If he had to he would use his ability, but it was difficult to manipulate groups, and it was reckless—he couldn’t risk detection. He would watch, and wait for an opening. Only if it didn’t come on its own would he make one.
Karon tapped at his door and announced it was time for the test run. Gil’s pulse raced. He felt closer to mastering his power than he ever had before and was determined to let nothing get in his way.
“Everything’s set. Elizabeth wants you to help bring Daphne down.”
Gil smiled in an ingratiating way and followed Karon out the door. Elizabeth was waiting by Daphne’s door. Ralph was there too, chewing a big wad of gum.
“OK, Gil, you and Ralph bring her downstairs.” As Gil passed Elizabeth, she added, “Work your magic on her.”
Gil had suggested trust and friendship to Daphne whenever they were alone, and over the last week she had come to depend on Gil, thus guaranteeing him a role in the project.
Daphne was on her bed rocking back and forth.
“Daphne, do you remember what we talked about? The experiment? It’s time now, Daphne.”
“No.”
Da
phne rocked harder. Ralph bent to look in her face.
“I’ll bet they’ll give us ice cream if you do this. Could be chocolate-chip mint, ya know.”
“I don’t want to, Ralph.”
“Well okeydokey then,” Ralph said.
“No Ralph, it’s not okeydokey,” Gil snapped, cursing himself silently for losing his temper. Closing his eyes, he cleared his mind of anger, and then said quietly, “It’s important for Daphne to do this, Ralph. Isn’t it, Daphne?”
“No.”
Gil feared Elizabeth would soon take over if he didn’t quickly get Daphne’s cooperation. Only Ralph was in the room so he decided to risk using his ability. Gil thought of trusting himself and then stared at Daphne and gave a push. As soon as he pushed, Ralph spoke up.
“Yeah, trust Gil.”
Gil was confused—had Ralph received the push by mistake?
“Daphne, you trust me, don’t you?” Gil asked.
“Yes.”
Gil pictured Daphne cooperating with Dr. Martin in the experiment and pushed. Again Ralph spoke up.
“Yeah, you want to try the speriment, don’t you.”
Gil looked at Ralph but saw nothing but his big stupid grin. Feeling anxious, he studied Ralph—his comments were just too similar to his pushes to be coincidence.
“Let’s go try it, Daphne,” Gil said.
“Yeah, let’s go. Maybe we’ll get ice cream.”
Daphne hesitated, but when Gil gently took her arm she stood and walked with him to the door. Elizabeth smiled at Gil as he led Daphne down the stairs. Gil smiled back, hiding his concern about Ralph.
Wes Martin was waiting downstairs like an expectant father. Daphne hesitated when they entered the converted dining room, but Gil pulled her along. Once on the cot, she began to rock again. Then Wes approached, picking up an EET cap.
“Remember this, Daphne?” he asked, holding up the array, which resembled a bicyclist’s helmet with wires poking out all over the top. “You tried this on for us before.”
Fragments Page 5