Chapter Forty. Betty, 1964
CHAPTER FORTY
“Between the ages of two and three, [Ravi] kept asking for toys that he claimed he had in the house of his previous life and said he himself had been murdered, giving names and details … In a different district … a six-year-old boy was murdered … His father’s name and the details of his murder correspond with the account of Ravi Shankar. ”
—Journal of Parapsychology
After consulting with the others to compile a list, Betty volunteered to bring it to Dr. Trimble. “In our haste to pack, we overlooked a few necessities,” she told him.
He was hunched over his typewriter, a half-full coffee cup and his breakfast plate littering the table.
“We should add soap and a sponge so we can clean the dishes,” she said, laying down the list the women had created.
He picked it up and squinted as he read aloud: “‘A nail file, eight sets of clean towels and washcloths, Aqua Net hairspray … and saltine crackers and ginger ale’?”
“My stomach has felt a bit queasy,” Betty explained.
He picked up his pipe and inhaled. Ashes scattered onto his stack of typed papers. If the papers burned up, he might make them start all over again, Betty thought. She suppressed a shudder.
“I’ll see what I can do,” he told her. “But I may have something even better for you.”
Dr. Trimble followed her to the back of the basement, where the other women waited in their white dresses. By now they’d washed up as best they could. Ivy was sitting on the bed, staring into space. She looked beyond tired. She seemed absent, somehow.
“Today I’m going to try something new,” Dr. Trimble announced. “You’ve all experienced the Ganzfeld experiment.” He held up two sets of the Ping-Pong ball blindfolds and Kathleen flinched.
“This time, I’d like for the four of you to decide who transmits and who receives the messages. Two in each group.”
“We get to decide?” Helen echoed.
“The four of you trust each other completely,” Dr. Trimble said.
It was a statement, not a question. “Therefore, I believe you’ll be able to work together to determine the best grouping to enhance your test results.
The more quickly you’re able to prove my theory that this contained environment engenders unprecedented results, the more quickly you’ll be back at home taking care of your husbands.
Let me know when you’ve made your decision. ”
He turned to go, then paused. “Deep sacrifice is necessary for the greater good. Remember that, girls.”
His heavy footsteps grew fainter as he went back to his command post.
As soon as he left, Betty spoke up. “Kathleen needs to be a transmitter. I can receive.”
“Thank you, doll.” Kathleen sighed.
“I can receive, too,” Helen said.
“Okay,” Ivy said. Betty looked at her more closely. Her voice and expression were a bit wooden. Being here seemed to be harming her the most. She bore no resemblance to her usual peppy self.
“Do you think we could actually get out of here tonight?” Kathleen wondered.
“I doubt he’d arrange all of this for such a short time,” Betty replied. “But if we do well enough, maybe tomorrow or the next day.”
“I’m not sure I can handle two more nights of being woken up every hour.” Kathleen shook her head. “It took me so long to fall back asleep each time. And poor Ivy. You haven’t even recovered from childbirth.”
“I’m fine,” Ivy said weakly. “It’s David I’m worried about. He isn’t used to fending for himself. And I hope…” Her voice caught. “Do you think Dr. Trimble’s wife will be kind to Sandra?”
“Oh, darling, of course she will!” Betty said instantly, even though she feared the opposite. “She always brings us meals, and she sewed our dresses … surely she’s feeding and burping and changing little Sandra, and you’ll see that your baby is as happy as can be!”
Ivy nodded, but she didn’t look convinced.
“I’ll let Dr. Trimble know we’ve decided.” Helen stood up from her bunk. Then she threw her arms around Betty’s neck. Betty felt the dampness of tears against her skin.
“I’m so glad I have you girls,” Helen whispered. “Promise me we’ll always be friends?”
“Always,” Betty promised. “We’ll stay as close as sisters forever.”