19

A Chapter by Bob

John woke up in the middle of the night, the futon was extremely uncomfortable but that was not the only reason. He thought that Jim being missing was part of it, after all he had not taken anything since they split up. Another reason would be that he had an amazing time with his long lost father, the excitement may be what’s keeping him up, either way it didn’t matter he was up and had enough energy to run a 100 kilometres. He got up and went exploring, it wasn’t his intention to snoop around and uncover some dark and grisly secrets but the road to hell is paved with good intentions after all. He skimmed over pages, opened closet and room doors then browsed the computer. At first he didn’t find anything but unfortunately for the both of them he knew something, something he’d read a long time ago. That most interesting thing was buried deep under a pile of nonsense, that the file covered in cobwebs is the one you want to read. He found that file in a box covered in cobwebs but even knowing what he did he didn’t fish for secrets, his reason for studying the contents of this box was not only because it was hidden. However, it had pictures of him and his mother, of the three of them at the beach, his mother when she was young, a little hot wheels car even a old wolverine comic, the box contained all his father’s treasured memories. At the bottom of all that was a file with no name, inside were crumpled pages as if someone threw it away once but changed their mind and decided to keep them instead. In the top left corner were photos of him attached with a paper clip. In one of them he just stood up straight, like a before photo. Others were of him in a chair with electrodes attached to his head, him in a sensory deprivation tank, at a table with a man answering questions. All those photos painted one picture, that they did tests on him when he was a kid and kept a documented account. John had been unable to be dumbstruck by since the age of 14, not by anything, disappointment, death or any revelation. Even now he simply grasped the situation before reading any further, he simply digested all of it. “My father did test on me, what does that mean?” “It’s the number one reason for you not remembering anything.” “Probably explains you.” “Okay when you put it like that, it doesn’t sound so bad bud, you know all’s well that ends well.” “Yeah but obviously there’s consequences, like side effects or something. When have you ever heard of something like this working out alright, I mean if it did do you think we’d be living in some suburb or that these files would be buried with old crap he never looks at?” “So you saying this is his things-that-went-sour box.” John sat there mulling it over. The sub had a point about it not being that bad but even for him being the forgiving, understanding and embracing everything liberal type this was extreme. He loved those kids he taught in the village and would never think about doing anything close to this to them and here is his father that did this to his own flesh and blood.

John sat in the truck with the box occupying the seat that once held his best friend, the one he needed now. He reached under the passenger seat in a hope of finding a gift left by Jim and indeed there was one.

Smoke filled the rust bucket and John took out the journal, not his one but the one that held detailed descriptions of what went on during the experiments. It was laid out like a diary, everyday they did something else and summed up in one paragraph his dad said what happened, he then went on to thoroughly explain each procedure and how it was done. It started with ten pages on preparation then got into the gory bits.

The heading was a question, more like the question. What happens if one bridges the gap between the conscious and sub-conscious? John only read the summaries; he didn’t need details he wasn’t going to try it so why bother upsetting himself with a trip down torture lane. The first entry said, throughout the experiments, we have given the subjects a steady dose of nootropics to increase brain function. A picture of a red haired boy hooked up to an I.V drip accompanied this entry and that was a recurring theme, each entry had a picture that showed what they did that day. The second entry was a bust; it had a line drawn through it, ~~Boost glial cells~~ below he wrote terminated �" causes verbal difficulties, in the long term could lead to dyslexia. After that blip in form they were back to winning ways, we have sped up communication through a thinner cortex thus; the neurons appear packed more densely. Mid experiment John senior got another idea, can unusual brain structure in key areas improve spatial and reasoning skills? To test this sub theory we have reconstructed select subjects’ brain by making it 15% wider than the average giving it a more spherical shape. We have adjusted other subjects’ parietal lobes to be more symmetrical and these were the only entries that did not have a picture attached. “Yeah its sounds gruesome enough without pictures bud.” John was the lucky winner in the next test picture; we achieved more processing units with cortical areas through decreasing space between cells by means of smaller mini-columns. To activate savant-like skills we have shut down higher-order cognition by use of transcranial magnetic stimulation to inactivate a small area of the cortex. The last entry was another sub-theory and had the same picture of four different children including John. The question posed was simply, REM sleep. All subjects entered sensory- deprivation tanks after gradually receiving a combination of drugs including lysergic acid hydroxyethyliamide, Bufotenin, Psilocin and Ketamine to enable REM sleep. The subjects’ brain waves, temperature and consciousness were monitored throughout. In the pictures, the tanks had water in it, they floated on their backs with wires attached to their temples, and I.V drips in their arms. John still felt calm although he knew all the other emotions were there. He could feel angry if he wanted, sad or even forgiving but he left that for after he slept on it.

In the morning he was all packed to leave just in case and approached his father. “I saw the files and I know what you did to me?” His father immediately knew what he was talking about and dropped his head in shame, “I’m sorry son.”

“That’s not why I’m here, John said, “I want to hear your side of the story, why you did those kind of things to children?” “I was obsessed with the idea son, I thought I could make everyone better, I was always one step away, nearly there just coming up short,” he spoke fast one sentence after the other. He stared at John wide-eyed, “John why did you come here, did it work, are you different? How do you feel?”

“Yes I am” Said John, “You have indeed succeeded but that’s it for you dad. Answer one question, did my mother leave because she found out what you did?” He dropped his head again, “Yes, she didn’t understand, it wouldn’t kill you, if it worked you’d be great, it did work, you are marvellous. John felt guilty for leaving his mother, for not hugging her or telling her, he loved for what she did but also felt it all melt away when he saw his father’s eyes light up. John knew what was going on the man’s head and he didn’t need to have a super brain to guess what his father was thinking. “What you did was wrong on so many levels but I’m not the judging type” John sighed heavily and walked out and before he’s father could protest John was already in the rust bucket on his way to the post office.

“You could have at least thrown a punch Johnny.” “That would ruin it, think about it the guy spends his whole life trying to coax you out, he loses his family even, so here I am the success, the perfect specimen. I wave it front of him and when that excitement comes back, that obsessive urge of his I leave,” said John “I wouldn’t have fancied you a tease Johnny.”

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