Della and I arrived at the eye clinic that evening. We were met by Research Director Ellen Rollins, an enthusiastic and welcoming woman. Her research assistant, Ben, looked young enough to be her kid. I spent some time signing forms and then went on to take the physical. Afterward, I got the grand tour. We walked through a dull white corridor and took a right turn around a corner. We were in another hallway, banked by sets of doors opening onto small sleeping rooms. An office at the end of the hall contained another desk and an examination table. “Here we are!” Ellen exclaimed, somewhat breathlessly. “Your home away from home for the next few nights. Any preference for a room?”
I glanced into a room. The bed did not look comfortable. “Got a room next door to Della?” I asked. “If I can’t sleep I’ll come in and harass her. It gets boring staying up with nothing else to do.”
Della crossed her arms. “Just remember, if you screw up you get heartburn again at Stromboli’s.”
Ellen wrote something down on a piece of paper attached to a clip board. “Done! You’re next door. I have to go now. I’ll let Ben finish up with you, Maggie and I’ll see you both in the morning.” She waved goodbye and left us for the night.
Ben walked to the office, directly across from my room. I checked out the room again. The single bed was fitted with tight sheets and a folded blanket at the end. There was also a plastic chair, a desk and a small, metal box near the head of the bed. It looked as though something plugged into it. I dumped my overnight bag on the bed, muddying its perfect creases and poked my head into Della’s room next door. She was unpacking a small bag of clothing and toiletries. “Cool!” she exclaimed when she heard me at the door. “We’re roomies!” A small mp3 player tumbled out of her bag. “I have to tell you about this new book on tape,” she said, holding up the player. “It’s absolutely filthy. I haven’t had this much fun since I joined that talking book club. I’m sure this one’s out in paperback. You should pick up a copy.”
“That’s okay,” I said. Della was forever trying to get me to loosen up. “I have plenty of stuff to read.”
“You’ll make your husband a happy man,” she continued.
“He already is a happy man.”
“Okay, happier?” She really did have my sex life all lined up. All she needed was a willing subject. Maybe she was feeling flush with the victory of getting me here. We’d reached step one in Della’s master plan.
Ben called me to the office to get me ready for the night. He probed my head, then reached over for a plastic bottle and dabbed glue onto a series of small electrodes. “Don’t worry, it’s painless,” he explained. “When I’m done you’ll look like the Bride of Frankenstein but it’ll wash off.” He attached the electrodes to my forehead, temple and the back of my head. Then he took a paper cap and strung the wires through it before fitting it over my head. I suspected I’d get no sleep whatsoever for the next few nights, not with that contraption on my head. Ben walked with me back to my room and plugged me in to the little box. “The bathroom is down the hall to the right If you need to use it, just unplug the whole thing at the wall. Be careful, though. Don’t let anything get wet. Why don’t you just settle in and get comfortable while I hook up Della?” He suggested before leaving.
I laid down and spent the next 12 hours doing exactly what I thought I’d do: not sleep. I looked at the ceiling. I read. I collected my strange sleepwear and brought it with me to the bathroom once or twice. It was quiet, due in part to a heavy door installed to cut down on sleep-interrupting noises. It didn’t work for me. I managed to doze for a while but couldn’t sleep, not in a strange bed with my head attached to a box. My wrist watch beeped on the hour. At 10:00 pm I heard the air conditioning come on. At 12:00 am I had a dream. At 1:00 am I briefly saw a light underneath my door. I dozed from 1:30 to 4:30. When I woke up at 4:30 the light was back on and I could hear the quiet rumble of the air conditioning again. I tossed and turned.
Ellen came to collect me at 8:00 the next morning. She had a sheet of printouts in her hand: long, wavy lines that traced my unsuccessful attempts at sleep. “Rough night, huh?” she asked. “Looks like a lot of activity. What did you do, write a book?”
I sighed. “Well, I tried to sleep. I guess I’m a great control subject, if you’re looking for insomniacs.”
Ellen laughed and took a seat near my bed. She handed me a cup of coffee, bless her heart. “I’m having breakfast with Della. Why don’t you join us? I’d like to do some in-person comparisons between you two anyway.”
Della was sitting at a table near a window in the clinic’s cafeteria. She’d gone through at least one bottle of Diet Coke and looked like she’d just seen a ghost, with hair that stuck up in little white spikes from the electrode glue. She made a chuffing sound as we sat down next to her. “I smell coffee,” she said. “That you, Maggie? Are you ready to kill me for putting you through this little experiment?” She looked exhausted. “Next outing’s on me. I’ll even eat carrots if you want.”
“We’re just about to talk about our night time experiences,” I said. “And I’m going to have some yogurt with granola.”
Della pouted. “That sounds disgusting. Bar keep, bring me another Diet Coke.”
“So, what kept you awake, Della?” Ellen started in before Della could get too carried away in complaints.
“A bird’s nest on my head? And who the heck was snoring last night? God almighty, I thought he was going to take out the windows.”
“Sorry about that,” Ellen said, with a look of contrition.
“I hate snoring,” Della retorted.
Ellen turned to me next. “And you, Maggie? What was your night like?”
I slugged coffee. “I just ticked off the hours. Couldn’t really get to sleep. Didn’t hear anything, but saw when your guys turned on the lights. I don’t remember much after that.”
Ellen’s head snapped up. “You saw lights?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Why? I think there was somebody there, too. I thought I saw someone pass by my door.”
Ellen looked confused. “No one is supposed to come into that hallway at night,” she explained. “That could throw our entire study off. It’s one thing to hear something that’s supposed to be there, like snoring. But something introduced from the outside is totally different.” She looked worried now. “If someone’s been coming in this could compromise the whole project, maybe even shut it down.”
This didn’t sound good. I began to feel very guilty. Had I just wrecked her study?
