By Jacob Nef
Lightning strikes, painting Sam’s silhouette against rows of books. Like a dark synapse between neurons, suddenly lit up by neurotransmitters. You creep a bit further into the shadowed corner you have been hiding in. Hypothesis: Sam will not see you until it’s too late. A deep, low thunder rumbles overhead. You are a self-proclaimed scientist. Sam is a freshman in college. You study electric patterns and EEG readings. He is studying statistics and loves to read into the long hours of the night. You hide on the second floor behind the third row of books when you come to the library. When Sam goes to the library, he goes to the second floor, turns left, and sits in front of the large window set into the wall there. Often he daydreams while staring at the trees outside. Observation: Sam loves the spring, but October gets too cold too quickly. Hypothesis: the red-brown fiery leaves remind Sam of summer’s death.
Sam is a stubborn binary circuit breaker that refuses to bend in the slightest. He is either on or off. From your research, he was always like that– his mother called him wool-headed when he was younger, and he butted heads with his parents often over stupid things. Observation: Sam is quiet. He likes to see the world in black and white. There is a right and there is a wrong. This is one of the reasons you chose Sam. His brain is like a predictable program in a machine. Routine: 6:45 he wakes up and gets dressed, and then makes breakfast. Usually just some cereal. He goes to his classes and then goes to the library in the same spot each day around 3:00. Then, by 8:00, he heads home, watches TV, and goes to sleep. Every day it’s the same, repeated over and over again.
Then, Sam did something erratic. Sam hated his 1:00 class. The professor droned on and turned Sam into a drooling cesspool on his desk every other day. However, Sam was never late to this class for one very important reason. If he got there just a little bit early, he always saw Julia.
You notice the way he watches Julia. You peek out from under your hat and see something remarkable. The right neurotransmitter must have fired as something activates in Sam’s cerebellum. He finds her after class. You can see fear gripping him like a cold snake, but he pushes through it.
“Hi! What’s your name?” Sam asks her. You know he knows the answer.
“Oh, hello! My name’s Julia,” She replies. Sam talks with her as they walk out the south exit. You can practically see his internal battle, though– His next class is out the north exit. Across campus. In five minutes. His neurons charge, acting potential taking shape, and Sam’s cortex does something strange. Binary-circuit-breaker Sam says turn around now, get to class on time! All previous patterns pointed to this decision. Curiously, his cortex breaks from logic. It throws reason out the window. Sam makes an impulse decision, right in front of your eyes.
Sam follows and talks to Julia all the way to the south edge of campus.
“Fascinating,” You whispered from a distance.
Hypothesis: Sam loved Julia.
You do not understand this, and need to study it more.
You only saw it happen that one time. Sam walked out of his 1:00 class the next day, searching for Julia. She was right where she always was. Sam walked towards Julia, smiling as she glanced in his direction. Her eyes locked with Sam’s for a fraction of a second– maybe imagined. Then they slid onwards like ice. She walked away. Sam glanced back down at his shoes and turned towards the north exit. Sam studies statistics harder and has not been late to his 2:00 class since.
That’s it. Observational studies are over.
Today, you decide. It will happen today.
Your puzzled frustration turns to glee. Relief.
You watch Sam especially closely tonight– He checks over his shoulder more often than usual, making things slightly more difficult. Normally, hunched over his computer, he is very easy to watch. Sam eventually yawns as he stares at his laptop. It is almost 8:00. He stretches his arms over his head and packs up his things, putting in his headphones. He walks downstairs and you follow.
Sam swallows dryly as he exits the library. You are the reason for his amygdala’s frantic warnings.
There is a street lamp that has been out for a number of days now. The long, shadowy stretch of tree limbs and bushes has been calling to you since the first day. Now, you rush ahead of Sam and position yourself just behind the bushes. Your heart races and you shudder with excitement. You just know he wants to be a part of this. Hypothesis: Sam will struggle before the chloroform takes effect.
“Hey! What–”
Your hypothesis is correct.
Shoes drag on cement as you shuffle away with your new subject. You are going to find answers to your other hypotheses, too. Maybe you can even watch the cortex and frontal lobe form answers to questions, if you make the cuts right. You will do your best not to mess that up.
Hypothesis: Sam’s brain won’t operate for more than five minutes after being exposed to air. Oh! And that girl he followed– why did his brain change for her? You shove Sam’s crumpled body in the trunk of your car parked five steps away. You’ll need to observe her, too. She might be necessary to your studies. You close the trunk, glancing at the shiny scalpel and other equipment shoved back there.
Time to experiment.
