Flopping back onto the bed, Gil breathed in deeply through his nose and out his mouth, over and over, beginning his relaxation routine. A psychologist taught him the technique a few days before Gil had him step off a subway platform in front of an incoming train. Next he tensed his toes and then relaxed them, then repeated the process with his feet. Working up his body, he slowly tensed and relaxed each muscle group in turn. When he was done he started all over and worked to his head again. Finally satisfied that his muscles were relaxed, Gil worked on clearing his mind.
As he tuned out the sounds of the house Gil felt his mind expand to fill the room. Every sense in his body sent clear sharp signals and Gil could discern even the smallest details of the room. Picturing each breath, he slowly cleared his mind of the room. When nothing else was left in his mind but the breathing, he let the image of his breaths fade away, leaving a void. That’s when the whispering started.
It was just a soft murmuring, but it disturbed Gil’s meditation. When he opened his eyes to look for the source, the whispering stopped. Gil listened intently but heard nothing. Closing his eyes again, he began his relaxation routine. When he cleared his mind of his breathing image the whispering returned. Again Gil opened his eyes and again the whispering stopped. Gil got up and opened his door—no one was in the hall. Gil walked to the door next to his and knocked. It was Karon’s room but no one answered. Gil was frustrated. Where was the voice coming from?
Gil returned to his room and repeated the process and the whispering returned. When he tried concentrating on the voice it faded, but when he relaxed it returned. It was too faint for him to distinguish the words, but he listened anyway. It was human speech, he was sure, and it sounded like a woman. But where was it coming from? Had the experiment done something to him—improved his special ability? Gil’s heart picked up its beat, pounding out his excitement, and again the voice faded.
Now Gil had to be part of the experiment again. If he had to, he would suggest his way in again—then he remembered Ralph. Somehow that retard had heard Gil’s suggestions. He would have to deal with Ralph. Then Gil tried to clear his mind to hear the voice again, but found he couldn’t think of killing Ralph and hear the voice at the same time.
Ralph led the way down the street with his oversized strides. He was a man on a mission—to get a cherry-dip ice-cream cone. Daphne followed a step and a half behind, running every few steps to keep up. Wes started to shout at him to slow down, but Elizabeth put her hand on his arm to stop him.
“Watch, we won’t lose him.”
Ralph was only a few strides down the street when he suddenly deviated and crossed the street toward an old woman watering her flowers.
“Afternoon, Mrs. Clayton, how ya doin’?”
Daphne followed Ralph across the street but stayed on the sidewalk when Ralph walked into the yard to stand by Mrs. Clayton.
“I’m fine, Ralph. Going for a walk?” When she saw Wes and Elizabeth, she added, “Who are your friends across the street?”
“That’s Wes and Elizabeth. This here’s Daphne. Daphne’s retarded but not like me. She’s real smart sometimes. That’s Wes and Elizabeth. They’re doctors. Wes is sperimenting on Daphne. I was sperimented on too. Well nice talking to you. We’re going for ice cream. Bye, Mrs. Clayton.”
“Goodbye, Ralph. Goodbye, Daphne.”
Mrs. Clayton looked suspiciously at Wes and Elizabeth as they resumed their trip down the street.
“Did he have to tell her we were experimenting on them?” Wes asked. “It makes us sound like mad scientists.”
“What do you mean ‘we’? Besides, it was honest. Did you want him to lie?”
“Being private isn’t being dishonest.”
“Nothing is private to Ralph.”
Suddenly Ralph deviated to the right into another yard, leaving Daphne standing on the sidewalk. When Wes and Elizabeth caught up with Daphne they found Ralph standing in the yard talking to a bald man holding a rake.
“. . . they sperimented on me too. Now we’re going for ice cream. Well, gotta go now. Bye, Mr. Smeltzer.”
“Goodbye, Ralph.”
Wes waited until they were well away from Mr. Smeltzer before he spoke.
“This is embarrassing. Is he going to tell everyone?”
“Ralph is very friendly. It’s in my report.”
Wes was stung. He still hadn’t read all of Elizabeth’s reports. There was no hiding it, so Wes conceded his ignorance.
“I admit I skimmed sections of your reports.” Elizabeth smiled at the admission. “What’s Ralph’s story, anyway? Why is he so . . . outgoing?”
“The intellectually challenged come with just as many different personalities as the rest of us.”
“I understand that,” Wes said. “But I’ve never met anyone quite like Ralph.”
“He’s the only child of a couple who thought they would never have children. His mother was forty-six when he was born and his father fifty-two. They had long reconciled themselves to childlessness and would have lived in a rut for the rest of their lives, dying in the same house they bought as newlyweds, if it hadn’t been for Ralph. They made the papers when he was born. Forty-six isn’t a record but it is kind of unusual. They loved him dearly, and bought a new house in the suburbs. Just like young couples, they remodeled one of the rooms into a nursery, ready for their little one. His mother told me once that all the kids in the neighborhood called her Grandma. Ralph’s father was a carpenter and built him a playhouse that looked like a pirate ship. It’s still there. All the kids loved to play at Ralph’s house, because Ralph had every toy any kid could want. The once childless couple found themselves the informal parents to a neighborhood full of children. Ralph thrived in that home and had a pretty normal childhood until third grade. That’s when it became clear he was going to continue to fall behind.”
“They must have been devastated.”
“Disappointed, yes. ‘Devastated’ is too strong—‘scared’ is a better word.”
“They were afraid of Ralph?” Wes said incredulously. Ralph had a muscular physique, but he was the most inoffensive person; annoying, not threatening.
“They were afraid he’d be rejected by the other children. They were afraid of losing their extended family. It didn’t happen. At least it happened slowly, the way it should. Ralph fell behind in school, but was mainstreamed wherever possible. His neighborhood friends moved on through the grades without him, but the younger children took their place. Ralph is like a five-year-old; he thinks everyone is his friend. Even you.”
“What happened to his parents?”
“His father died when Ralph was thirteen. His mother lived another five years. Toward the end she was too frail to care for him. That’s when I first met Ralph and his mother. Just before she died Ralph was put in custodial care and that’s where he met Daphne. He’s good for her and that’s why I insisted he come.”
“She is better when he’s around,” Wes conceded.
“You resent getting stuck with him, don’t you?”
“He talks too much.”
“He expresses every thought, that’s for sure. I know you don’t think he’s special—not like Daphne and the others—but he is in his own way. Have you noticed that Ralph has only two emotions, concerned and happy? Ralph never laughs, he just grins, and he never cries or gets angry. The closest he can come to a dark emotion is a mild worry and he whips between concerned and happy with no transitional emotions at all. He’s very unusual. Many intellectually challenged people have difficulty controlling their emotions, and relating to people—not Ralph. Look at Daphne, so withdrawn most of the time. Ralph, on the other hand, introduces himself to everyone, never self-conscious, never embarrassed. He’s not gifted like the savants, but he’s special in his own way.”
Wes and Elizabeth caught up with Daphne and waited while Ralph stopped a woman carrying groceries and told her he was being “sperimented on.” Ralph had just gotten moving again when he reached the corne
r. The house Wes had rented for his savants and his team was near the University of Oregon and in a neighborhood of large old-fashioned houses, many of which had been taken over by fraternities and sororities. Ralph turned up the walk of the fraternity on the corner and toward a group of fraternity brothers sitting on the steps drinking beer. As soon as they saw him they began shouting.
“Hey, Ralphie!”
“Come on up here, man.”
“Hi Steve. Hi Rimmer. Hi Mitch. Hi Bopper. How’s it goin’?”
While Ralph told them about the “speriment,” Wes stood with Elizabeth. Then three more brothers came out onto the porch, each carrying a can of beer. One of the boys had classic good looks, with dark hair and eyes, and carried himself with arrogance. He frowned at Ralph, then spotted Daphne, and elbowed the boy next to him, whispering something that elicited a snicker. Then to Ralph he said, “Who’s the babe, Ralph?”
“This here’s Daphne.”
“She’s cute, Ralph. She your girlfriend?” he said, nudging his friend again.
Ralph grinned wide and shook his head. “I don’t got a girlfriend, Billy. We’re just friends. We’re going to the Dairy Queen to get cones. Dip cones. Want to come?”
“No, Ralphie. You go on without us. See ya later.”
“Well, okeydokey.”
As they left, Wes noticed Billy and the boys on the porch watching Daphne’s back. Daphne wasn’t pretty in Wes’s eyes, although she wasn’t ugly, just plain. The people at the institution kept her hair short for convenience, and Daphne never did anything with it except brush it occasionally. Usually it was just light brown strings that hung limp around her face. Her clothes were mostly baggy dresses that hung below her knees, hiding any figure she might have. He couldn’t imagine anyone being attracted to her, let alone fraternity brothers.
It was two more blocks and a half-dozen stops for Ralph before they turned into the small-business district serving the university. Three blocks later they came to the corner with the Dairy Queen. When they walked up to the window Ralph was greeted by name by the middle-aged woman working the counter.
“Back again, eh Ralph?”
“Hi, Ellen.”
“Say, this isn’t Daphne, is it? It is! Millie, come over here. This here’s Daphne!”
A teenage girl walked over, a big smile on her face.
“Hello, Ralph. You finally brought Daphne to see us. I was sure you were eating all those extra cones yourself.”
Ralph’s smile widened until it threatened to swallow his ears, and his head swung back and forth. Then he remembered Wes and Elizabeth.
“This here’s Elizabeth and this here’s Wes. They’re sperimenting on me and Daphne. Mostly Daphne.”
Wes waved at Millie and Ellen but they gave him cold looks.
“We don’t dissect them or anything,” he said defensively. “It’s just some testing . . . really!”
“It better be,” Ellen said. “If anything happens to Ralph or Daphne you’ll be hearing from my husband.”
“Ellen’s husband is a police officer,” Ralph explained. “He has a gun. He hasn’t shot anyone yet but he wants to. I want a large cherry dip. Daphne wants—”
“I know, Ralph. A large chocolate dip. Coming right up. Anything for you two?” Ellen said without the warmth she had shown Ralph.
“Two small vanilla cones,” Wes said softly.
Ellen nodded and disappeared into the restaurant. Wes hung his head and worried over his reputation. Elizabeth patted him on the shoulder in sympathy and said, “Remember, tomorrow you get two more.”
Daphne was restless and paced back and forth in her room. She felt different. The ice-cream cone had been a nice distraction, but now the change couldn’t be ignored. The experiment had done something to her. Her world was different now, a little sharper, a little clearer. It was a small perceptual difference, but to someone who lived in herself, and knew every nook and cranny of her conscious mind intimately, it was a dramatic change.
Daphne welcomed anything that would help her organize herself in the midst of the whirlwind that was her mind. But with clarity also came fear, because she could feel the black hole at the center of the storm. She was terrified by that hole, and if its pull became too strong she would run to her hidey-hole, playing her imaginary piano furiously.
Coming to live with Wes and Elizabeth and Gil had been a good change, too, although it scared her at first. Now she liked it here—she had a piano all to herself and could play anytime she needed. She also had her friend Ralph and now she had Gil. It was all better here and she was happy—until the experiment changed her. Now she didn’t know whether to be happy or afraid. The confusion of her mixed emotions sent her running to her hidey-hole, where she dropped inside, her body rocking, slowly at first, then violently until she could think of nothing but the rocking.
In her self-induced hypnotic state her mind was blank and her emotions subsided, the confusing feelings faded. After a half hour she came out of the trance, still rocking, but awareness seeped into her consciousness slowly. With the black hole in her mind safely buried, she relaxed. Sleep helped order her mind sometimes, so she began getting ready for bed.
Wes and his team sat on the porch enjoying the warm September night. Wes and Shamita rocked in the rockers while Len and Karon shared the porch swing. Wes noticed that the two sat in the middle of the swing, their bodies touching. Len leaned over, whispering in Karon’s ear, eliciting a giggle. Shamita rolled her eyes at Wes; then she pointed to old Mrs. Clayton, who was across the street watering, keeping one eye on her plants and one on her new neighbors.
“She must be the neighborhood busybody,” Shamita said.
“Ralph told her we’re experimenting on him and Daphne,” Wes said.
“I bet she couldn’t wait to spread that around!” Shamita said. “I can imagine what she thinks we’re doing over here.”
“Ralph told everyone he met,” Wes said. “They all think we’re mad scientists. Don’t expect good service down at the Dairy Queen.”
Shamita looked puzzled, but before Wes could explain Elizabeth came out on the porch and leaned against a post. For the first time since they met Wes was glad to see her. She had been pleasant company that afternoon and he hoped the feeling would continue into the evening. He didn’t expect the kind of relationship that Len and Karon were developing, but he could use a friend.
“I take it the experiment was a success,” Elizabeth said.
Wes was suddenly suspicious. Elizabeth witnessed it, she knew it was successful, so why was she asking the question?
“It went the way we expected. Of course we haven’t constructed an entire mind yet, just overlayed two on one.”
“But so far so good, thanks to your program,” she said.
“Yes, it’s a good start, but not just me, everyone contributed.”
Wes’s team turned and looked at him as if they knew something he didn’t. Ever since Elizabeth had arrived he frequently felt he was the last to know what was going on.
“Without Shamita, Len, and Karon I couldn’t have done it,” Wes added, trying to sound modest. Was that what she wanted? For Wes to concede he couldn’t do it alone?
Elizabeth stared hard at him and waited silently. Wes saw Len mouthing something and he stared at his lips. When Wes didn’t get it Len added a whisper. Wes heard the words “Daphne” and “Ralph.” Then he understood, and the good feeling he had felt for Elizabeth since their walk to the Dairy Queen evaporated.
“I always intended to thank them and give them credit,” he said angrily. “Elizabeth, if you have something to say you can come right out and say it.”
“I shouldn’t have to. You should be caring for Daphne and Ralph yourself. Remember you didn’t even want me here. What were you going to do if I hadn’t pushed my way in? Lock them in their rooms, bringing them out only for your experiments?”
Wes started to answer, but stopped. She had maneuvered him into a weak position by implying that he had sli
ghted Daphne and Ralph. It wasn’t much of an oversight, if any, but he would wait until he was on solid ground before striking back.
“I’ll go thank them now.” Wes stood angrily, then paused. “Next time you have something to say to me, Elizabeth, just say it. Don’t be cute!”
Wes stomped into the house, leaving Elizabeth scowling on the porch. When he was gone she turned back toward the street and then spoke, seemingly unaware of the others on the porch.
“What is it with him? Why does he take everything wrong?”
“Reminds me of a story,” Len said.
As soon as Len started to speak Karon scooted away from his side and Shamita sank low into her rocker—neither of them sure of what he would say.
“Did you ever hear of the time the Northern girl met the Southern girl? The Southern girl walks up and says, ‘Where y’all from?’ The Northern girl replies, ‘I was born and raised in Boston. In Boston I went to the finest private schools and at those schools they taught me to speak properly, and I would never end a sentence with a preposition.’ The Southern girl looks at the Northern girl and then says, ‘I’m sorry. Let me start over. Where y’all from, bitch?’ ”
Karon’s eyes went wide and the blood drained from her face. Shamita sucked in her lips to suppress a laugh, but her body shook with mirth. Elizabeth glared at Len briefly and then walked into the house. As soon as she was in the door the porch erupted in laughter.
Wes was more frustrated than angry. Ever since he had met Elizabeth there had been low-level tension between them that periodically erupted into open conflict. The tension was mild, but like an itch that wouldn’t go away, creating constant discomfort. Wes had three months left on his grant, and that meant three months in close quarters with Elizabeth Foxworth. Tonight it seemed like an eternity, and he felt like a scolded child as he scurried up the stairs to thank his participants. He hated the feeling and vowed he wouldn’t let her treat him like a child.
Fragments Page 8