After a moment, I walk back to the monitor and look at her on the screen
“Dr. Evans, tell me—what do you mean in your reference to DNA—are you speaking of —that is, have you breached into confidential information like—my recent DNA test or—“
<<“No— I’m not referring directly to —to that kind of information…. but not excluding the findings it might have brought to light….”>>
and here I see her stand up and walk around the wing chair and lean on the back of it looking directly into the camera as though staring straight at me and ….there is something of that old woman from the waiting room in her gaze at me….which causes me to shudder.
She continues….
<<“but the theory Dr. Rothschild was so involved in proving…. how memories can be handed down through one’s DNA; ‘DNA Memory Theory’, I know you refer to it often in your writing,”>> she says
“You read my blog….”
<<“Someone mentioned your blog to me recently, that is how I found you—“>>
“Someone? —you mean Stina….”
<<“—who?”>>
“Who mentioned me? —how I got your card? Like you don’t know!”
<<“My business card? No— I wouldn’t know about that— I heard of you through my associate —who will be conducting the study with you during my absence —oh! I’m running out of time, I’m the guest lecturer—but—I hope you won’t mind—my associate….uh—I assume you are open minded —uh, as—many of my patients deal with emotional issues to do with gender ambiguity—have undergone ….procedures and— oh! I’m being called I must go—I hope you decide to….well, it’s up to you…. but I do hope you decide to —because I feel that you have as much to gain from this experience as—we—do….”>> at which point the zoom freezes and then she disappears
When the dark haired man in the lab coat reappears from the door he vacated he looks at me a moment and waits with a kind and patient smile
“You are waiting for me to decide —or not— to go forward with —Dr. Evans’ experiment,” I watch his expression as I say it
He shrugs,
“you can always come back—you can think it over.”
“How long have you been Dr. Evans’ assistant?” I ask
“Oh,” he looks surprised and his face flushes slightly, “I’m not Dr. Evans’ assistant—I’m a nurse on staff here; all I’d be doing here today is—if you decide to go through with the experiment —would be to administer the ….shot—that is, with your permission—her assistant is Dr. Bergen who has years of research and work exploring the mind and human behavior and ….that is who would be….conducting the experiment….”
“A shot!” I feel alarmed and go back to the leather couch to sit down, that lightheaded feeling having returned and to myself I repeat, “conducting the experiment….” I look up from the spot on the floor I had been momentarily mesmerized by; the abstract design in the carpet reminding me of those strange symbols from Celtic designs, “are you familiar with the research?”
Again, his face is brightened as he flushes and shakes his head, “I’ve not been present yet for one of Dr. Evans’ experiments—but I’ve read some of the logs she keeps. It’s similar to treatments for recovering from dependencies—they do hypnosis—it’s quite effective….” he stops to consider and inches back a few steps, “if you would prefer….”
“What is the shot?” I suddenly ask
Again a bright flush,
“….uh—a barbiturate—ah, a kind of anesthetic—“
“What kind?”
“Umm….it’s in the family of sodium pentothal —it’s a similar—”
I laugh nervously,
“‘truth serum’? Isn’t that illegal—?—unconventional!—“ I laugh again
“Well, I’m sure it’s not illegal or—“
“They gave that to spies during the Cold War right before giving the lethal injection,” I nervously say this wondering as I look around the office what I might be getting caught up in
“You know—maybe Dr. Bergen would be better qualified to explain, I’ll just—let me just….” then disappears behind that door
A moment later it opens but whoever I might have been expecting ….I have no idea
Tall, slim and also wearing a white lab coat over a fitted red dress and wearing high heels, this Dr. Bergen’s face turns from the door, at first hidden under a well made up face of perfectly applied lipstick with sweeping blond tresses that reach the broad shoulders of the lab coat, now turns, a face somewhat more obscured with stylishly studious framed glasses and artfully elegantly made up pale colored eyes….
I gasp.
There is no mistaking ….
“Greta?!”
I say this more in a gasp that is impossible to stop
“Dr. Bergen!” and glances nervously at some spot on the wall ….
I look in the same direction, now noticing a camera
“Candy….” ‘they’ say, as to —correct— and clarify; the tall, blond…. clearly trans with ….a slight Northern European accent only noticeable by the inflection of consonants and syllables, “you Americans insist on titles of formalities despite your revolutions….” says with a casual chide but—the eyes glare a kind of silent command
I stare…. aware my mouth has dropped open from the gasp —in need of oxygen
“Ohhh….my….” I cannot breathe…. and for a few dizzying seconds, I hyperventilate …. “God!” I say…. because I cannot ask what I want to ask but…. anyway stumble with my wits…. breathlessly under my breath I mumble, “what-are-you….doing….” but stop my next choice in words completely dumbfounded
‘They’ say,
“I am here to conduct the experiment—with your permission of course—in the absence of Dr. Evans.”
“….why?” as I just stare…. at this dazzling tall blond standing in front of me
and aware of the camera clearly watching the both of us, am forced to forgo any real questions I’d prefer to ask….as I consider ….
consider…..
Stina’s insistence …. the old woman in the waiting room…. the references to Dr. Rothschild by Dr. Evans….
“Am I really to undergo hypnosis?” I ask —as— this seems the most logical choice of questions to put forward
They look at me….oh those beguiling kryptonite eyes how they do hypnotize
“I am a qualified doctor of mental behavioral studies….” and ….as I hear ‘them’ say this…. I suddenly remember that detail—a card never once fully played until now
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