Project Spiralbound
Keep up the good work.” Dr. Mueller left Jason and Hank sitting in silence at the large conference table.
Finally Jason spoke up, “Upright is the most interesting of the bunch.”
Hank nodded.
Jason continued, “We need to give him an incentive for coming back. Lure him in.”
“Well, the money thing seemed to be bothering him. He’s from a significantly poorer background than most of the other students.” Hank reminded Jason.
“You’re right. We can give him the money PLUS offer and apology and act as if he defeated us. He would love that!”
Hank looked up and smiled. “Good!”
John decided that he would put Jason and Hank in fear with verbal threats. He planned to tell them that their lives were somehow in danger and that if they wanted to live they’d better pay up and also to return his manifesto. He didn’t realize at the time how ridiculous this was. How illogical and dangerous it would be to make such threats. In his anger, he could not think clearly.
He opened the door to leave only to run right into Jason and Hank, who were about to knock on his door. The trio all jumped back.
“Whoa, John, you scared us!” Hank held up his hands and laughed.
John glared at the pair, suddenly unable to say all the frightening things he had taken a week’s worth of planning to say.
Hank pulled out an envelope from his pant pocket and handed it to John. John looked in to find a thin stack of twenties, more than he was owed. He didn’t know what to say. He looked up at the two suspiciously.
Seeing the suspicion on his face, Jason spoke up. “And we are so SO sorry if there was any misunderstanding. And I was such a jerk. I was just,” he shrugged, “having a really bad day and took it out on you. I shouldn’t have done that. I hope you accept my sincerest of apologies.”
Jason held out his hand. John shook it quickly and clutched the envelope.
Hank jumped in, “Please come back. We think you’re absolutely the brightest of the bunch, by far! And our research really needs you.”
John approved of the praises and cash bribe. After a few seconds of clutching the cash he answered. “OK.”
Jason and Hank patted John on the shoulders approvingly like a father patting his son on the back for a good game of catch. “Good!”
Jason and Hank escorted John to the basement level research room. Hank set out a cup for John and poured him an orange drink.
“It’s Tang,” Hank said as he offered him the cup.
“Oh,” John said as he took the cup and looked into it. He could see bits of crystal powder not yet dissolved. He stirred the cup around, watching the crystals swim in the whirlpool.
“Didn’t the astronauts drink Tang?” Jason asked.
Hank shrugged. “Maybe.”
John finally gulped the drink down. He was thirsty from the walk and all the excitement. His liquids escaped from his pores and he needed to rehydrate himself.
“Can I have another cup?” John asked. The small amount was not sufficient.
“Sure. I’ll leave this here and you can have as much as you want.” Hank placed the plastic pitcher in front of John who promptly poured himself another cup.
Hank had already disappeared into the second room.
“What’s in there?” John asked Jason, pointing to the second door by the mirror.
Jason shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s just another room like this one.” He then looked behind him at the mirror, which his back was to. When he turned back to speak to John, he had his head on the table, lightly snoring. Again, he turned to the mirror and smiled laughingly.
Hank reappeared from the second room and stood over John.
Nodding his head, he remarked in a highly impressed tone, “Good!”
John awoke in a groggy mood to find himself strapped to a polygraph machine. The tubes across his chest, strapping him to sit up straight and stiffly against the chair. His hands and feet were essentially locked into place. He couldn’t move.
“What is this?” John felt like a snared rabbit.
Hank sat at the box-shaped machine where the measurements would print themselves on the paper roll. Jason pulled a seat up to face John.
The overhead lights were out and John found himself facing a blinding white light.
“Can you get that light out of my face … please?” He begged no one in particular. “I can’t see.” He squeezed his eyes shut but could still see the light in only a slightly duller form.
“Nope. Can’t do that.” Jason shook his head.
Hank spoke as a matter-of-factly, “OK, this is phase two of Project Spiralbound. It will be a polygraph consisting of questions pertaining to different topics. You will answer these questions truthfully. If not, the polygraph will be able to detect your dishonesty-”
“I’m a minor! You can’t do this without my consent!” John screeched as he struggled to free himself. All in vain.
“Actually, we can’t do this without your guardian’s consent. And your mother signed the consent forms.” Hank held up a sheet of paper, which John could not see because of the blinding light.
“No, you’re lying!” John’s throat went dry. He hoarsely condemned them. “She didn’t say anything about this. You’re liars. Get me out of here. Let me see that!”
“It was a real hassle to get you into that chair,” Jason spoke in monotone voice. “You don’t look big, but it was hard dragging you in here with even the two of us. We’re not going to undo all those tubes and buckles.”
“Yes, take our word for it.” Hank suggested. “We have no reason for lying. And we hope you don’t either. Let us begin.”
“Nooooo!” John cried out in a pained and broken voice. Like a man’s last cry out before being sent to the gallows.
Hank ignored him. “Jason will be asking the questions. Just a simple YES or NO will do. Don’t elaborate on anything. It’s not necessary. Just YES or NO.”
John made a grotesque face full of suffering. He whimpered and sobbed but no sounds escaped his burning throat.
Jason read from a sheet. “Is your name John?”
After a few seconds of nausea and dizziness, John answered, “Yes, you know what my name is!”
“Just YES or NO!” Hank scolded him.
“Yes!”
“Are you in a relationship?” Jason continued.
“No.”
“Have you ever been in a relationship?”
John thought of Chelsea, his one and only girlfriend from the past summer. He did not actually like her. They were set up by their parents. Chelsea was a chubby girl with a wide gap in her front teeth. She tried to convince John to convert from his atheistic beliefs to her religion: Catholicism.
“No,” he lied.
“Do you want a girlfriend?”
John sighed. “Yes!” he admitted, ashamed.
“Do you love your mother?”
John pictured his mother signing the consent form for this barbaric torturous research project behind his back. “No,” he stated firmly.
“Do you love your father?”
John didn’t feel one way or another about his father. He didn’t dislike him. And he didn’t like him. He was ambivalent towards him. “I don’t know.”
“It has to be a YES or NO!” Jason warned him, exasperated.
“It’s not that simple! I don’t love him and I don’t hate him. I… just don’t CARE!”
Jason looked at Hank, who gave him a “just skip it” look. Jason rolled his eyes and shifted in his seat, annoyed.
“Do you wet the bed?”
John felt a hot flash come over him. What kind of a question is that? He thought angrily. “No! Why are you asking me these stupid questions?”
“Please, just yes or no.” Hank reminded him tiredly.
“No.” John tilted his head back and tried to calm himself down, but he felt his heart beating faster and faster.
“Do you bathe daily?”
John was about to go into an
explanation as to why he only bathes about once a week, at most, but decided that he didn’t want to get into another argument, so he answered simply. “No.”
Jason made a disgusted face. “Do you partake in acts of voyeurism?”
“No,” John lied. He often did peer out of his window at some of the girls walking around on campus.
“Have you ever molested anyone?”
John glared at Jason’s silhouette. “NO!”
Jason stared back at John. “Have you ever THOUGHT of molesting or raping anyone?”
“No.” That too was a lie. John had often lied wide awake in the darkness of his dorm room imagining himself raping a classmate, terrifying her or sometimes subduing her. Sometimes she would love him and then there would be a wedding. He just wanted a female to take interest in him.
“Have you ever stolen money from your mother’s purse?”
“Yes.” John answered and hung his head. Once when he was seven-years-old he HAD stolen money, just $2, from his mother’s purse and was caught. She was so ashamed and sad. She asked him why he didn’t just ask her for the money. It was because he knew they were poor. The kids at school had picked on him for it. He just wanted to go buy a notebook and some pencils.
“Yes,” he repeated quietly. He felt his heart sink. He hadn’t thought about that incident in years.
“Have you ever murdered anyone?”
John lifted his head up. For a second he forgot he was part of a research project on a university campus. He pictured a detective interrogating him. John shook his head and laughed. He could not help but laugh. “No.”
“Have you ever THOUGHT of murdering anyone?”
He had, but why risk telling them outright what the truth was. That he had often fantasized about murdering people using a variety of methods: