“I’m exhausted,” Edward said. He stepped into the room and absently petted Sheba while he yawned. “I can’t wait to get into bed. It hits me just after midnight like clockwork. The amazing thing is how quickly I fall asleep once the tiredness comes. I have to be careful if I sit down. If I lie down, forget it.”
“I noticed that,” Kim said. “Sunday night you didn’t even turn out your light.”
“I suppose I should be aggravated with you,” Edward said. He was smiling. “But I’m not. I know you only have my best interests at heart.”
“Are you going to tell me what you are talking about?” Kim asked.
“As if you didn’t know,” Edward said teasingly. “I’m talking about Stanton’s sudden concern for my well-being. I knew you were behind it the moment he opened his mouth. It’s not like him to be so sympathetic.”
“Did he tell you about our deal?” Kim said.
“What kind of deal?” Edward asked.
“He agreed to try to get you to stop taking Ultra if I would convince you that Omni’s finances should be left up to him.”
“Et tu Brute,” Edward said jokingly. “This is a fine state of affairs. The two people I think I’m closest to are scheming behind my back.”
“As you said, we’ve only your best interests at heart,” Kim said.
“I think I’m capable of deciding what’s best for me,” Edward said amiably.
“But you’ve changed,” Kim said. “Stanton said you’ve changed so much that you’re becoming like him.”
Edward laughed heartily. “That’s great!” he said. “I’ve always wanted to be as outgoing as Stanton. Too bad my father passed away. Maybe he’ d finally be pleased with me.”
“This isn’t a joking matter,” Kim said.
“I’m not joking,” Edward said. “I enjoy being socially assertive instead of shy and bashful.”
“But it’s dangerous taking an untested drug,” Kim said. “Besides, don’t you question the ethics of acquiring character traits from a drug rather than from experience? I think it’s fake and like cheating.”
Edward sat on the edge of Kim’s bed. “If I fall asleep call a tow truck to get me into my bed,” he said with a chuckle. He then had another extended yawn that he tried to cover with his fist. “Listen, my dearest,” he said. “Ultra is not untested; it’s just not fully tested. But it’s nontoxic and that’s the important thing. I’m going to continue taking it unless a serious side effect occurs, which I sincerely doubt. As to your second point, it’s clear to me that undesirable character traits, like in my case my shyness, can become entrenched by experience. Prozac, to an extent, and now Ultra, to a greater extent, have unlocked the real me, the person whose personality had been submerged by an unfortunate series of life experiences that made me the socially awkward person I’d become. My personality right now hasn’t been invented by Ultra and isn’t fake. My current personality has been allowed to emerge despite a haze of facilitated neural responses that I’d call a ‘bum network.’”
Edward chuckled as he gave Kim’s leg a reassuring pat through her covers. “I assure you, I’ve never felt better in my life. Trust me. My only concern now is how long I have to take Ultra before this current ‘me’ has been facilitated so that when I stop taking Ultra I won’t relapse into my shy, socially awkward old self.”
“You make it sound so reasonable,” Kim complained.
“But it is,” Edward said. “This is the way I want to be. Hell, this is the way I probably would have been if my father hadn’t been such a bore.”
“But what about the forgetfulness and the paranoia?” Kim said.
“What paranoia?” Edward asked.
Kim reminded him of his coming to the house that morning to use the phone and having to go out of the lab to talk with Stanton.
“That wasn’t paranoid,” Edward said indignantly. “Those characters down in the lab have become the worst gossip hounds I’ve ever been around. I’m just trying to protect my privacy.”
“Both Stanton and I thought it seemed paranoid,” Kim said.
“Well, I can assure you it wasn’t,” Edward said. He smiled. The twinge of irritation he’d felt at being accused of paranoia had already passed. “The forgetfulness I’ll admit to but not the other.”
“Why not stop the drug and start it again during the clinical phase?”
“You are a hard person to convince,” Edward said. “And unfortunately I’m out of energy. I can’t keep my eyes open. I’m sorry. We’ll continue this tomorrow if you’d like since it is an extension of a previous discussion. Right now I have to go to bed.”
Edward bent over, gave Kim a kiss on her cheek, and then walked unsteadily out of her room. She heard him moving about his bedroom for only a few minutes. Then she heard the deep heavy respiration of someone already fast asleep.
Amazed at the rapidity of the transformation, Kim got out of bed. After slipping on her robe, she walked through the connecting hall to Edward’s bedroom. A trail of discarded clothes led across the room, and Edward was spread-eagled on top of his bed, clothed only in his underwear. Just as what happened Sunday night, his bedside lamp was still on.
Kim walked to the light and switched it off. Standing next to him, she was amazed at how loud his snoring was. She wondered why it had never awakened her when they slept together.
Kim retreated to her own bed. She turned out the light and tried to go to sleep. But it was impossible. Her mind would not turn off, and she could hear Edward as if he were in her room.
After a half hour, Kim got back out of bed and went into the bathroom. She found the old vial of Xanax she’d been saving for years and took one of the pink, boat-shaped pills. She didn’t like the idea of taking the drug, but she thought she needed it; there would be no sleep if she didn’t.
Coming out of the bathroom, she closed both Edward’s door and her own. Getting back into bed, she could still hear Edward but at least it was muffled. Within fifteen minutes she felt a welcome serenity drift over her. A little while later she fell into her own deep sleep.
16
Friday, September 30, 1994
At nearly three a.m. there was little traffic on the darkened streets of Salem, and Dave Halpern felt as if he owned the world. Since midnight he’d been aimlessly cruising in his ’89 red Chevy Camaro. He’d been to Marblehead twice and even up to Danvers and around through Beverly.
Dave was seventeen and a junior at Salem High. He’d gotten the car thanks to an after-school job at a local McDonald’s and a sizable loan from his parents, and it was the current love of his life. He reveled in the sense of freedom and unadulterated power the car gave him. He also liked the attention it evoked from his friends, particularly Christina McElroy. Christina was a sophomore and had a great body.
Dave checked the dimly illuminated clock set into the center console on the dash. It was just about time for the rendezvous. Turning onto Dearborn Street, where Christina lived, Dave hit the lights and turned off the engine. He slowed and glided to a silent stop beneath the canopy of a large maple.
He didn’t have to wait long. Christina appeared out of the hedges that ran alongside her clapboard house, rushed to the car, and jumped in. The whites of her eyes and teeth glistened in the half-light. She was tremulous with excitement.
She slid across the vinyl seat so that her tightly denimed thigh pressed against Dave’s.
Trying to project an air of insouciance, as if this middle-of-the-night rendezvous were an everyday occurrence, Dave didn’t speak. He merely reached forward and started his machine. But his hand shook and rattled the keys. Fearing he’d given himself away, he cast a furtive look in Christina’s direction. He caught a smile and worried that she thought he wasn’t cool.
When Dave reached the corner he switched on his headlights. Instantly the nightscape lit up, revealing blowing leaves and deep shadows.