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Unverified
Joshua drew a Zenner card from the deck and held it up. Hannah scrunched her nose at it. Thirty-seven undergrads had signed up to participate in the experiment, mostly because they wanted to collect a twenty dollar gift certificate from Otto’s Pizza, which Joshua though was fair. He had a full data set; they were getting their daily dose of extra-cheese and pepperoni.
“You’re making me hungry,” Hannah said.
“Sorry. If it helps, focus on the card.” The card showed three wavy lines. There were five different designs in the Zenner set, twenty-five cards in all. The idea was to us them to test subjects’ extrasensory perception, which Joshua though ridiculous, especially since the experiment came straight from the opening sequence of Ghostbusters, but his PI insisted there was grant funding available to anyone who could produce a positive result.
“Three wavy lines,” Hannah said.
Joshua checked the appropriate box. “You’re twelve for twelve.”
“Do I win a prize?”
Joshua help up another card.
“It’s the square,” Hannah said.
“That’s not possible.” The original set of Zenner cards had been printed on paper so thin that they were nearly transparent. Subjects could see right through them, which dramatically skewed the results towards the paranormal. “At best, you should be hitting one out of five.”
“Maybe it’s luck,” Hannah said.
He finished the set. She went twenty-five for twenty-five. Joshua didn’t bother testing the other eleven volunteers who were waiting out in the hallway; he took his results straight to his PI. Professor Lawrence listened non-commitally. He nodded appropriately. He chewed an Altoid. “My dear boy, have you considered that you are part of the experiment?”
“Sure,” Joshua said, “but she went twenty-five for twenty-five. I don’t know whether I should apply for NIH funding or fly her to Vegas.”
“You’re not understanding me,” Professor Lawrence said, “you are the experiment. Twenty-five researchers tasked to run an experiment doomed to failure, with the promise of grant funding, etcetera, should they succeed. We’re testing the willingness of researchers to skew empirical data, although it would seem you’ve trespassed beyond the realm of cognitive bias and wandered into the vast, unforgiving tundra of academic fraud. You may want to reconsider whether an advanced degree in the social sciences is an appropriate career choice for you.”
Joshua found Hannah in a booth by the jukebox at Otto’s Pizza. She had ordered a large pie with onions and green peppers. “I wasn’t sure whether you preferred regular Coke or diet,” she said. “So I got us a pitcher of Budweiser instead.”
“I think I just got expelled,” Joshua said.
“Behavioral psychology isn’t what it’s cracked up to be,” Hannah said. “You’ll have a lot more fun in advertising . . . well, maybe fun isn’t the right word, not exactly, but you’ll get invited to better parties.”
“You went twenty-five for twenty-five.”
“Joshua, if I were really clairvoyant, wouldn’t I use my gift for something more profitable than fleecing grad students out of twenty-dollar gift cards? I mean, the Mega Millions jackpot was up to three hundred and twenty million and change last I checked. And the stock market is Vegas minus the pit bosses. A true clairvoyant could make a mint off Wall Street.”
“Right,” Joshua said. It hit him all at once, the absurdity of it all. He felt like he’d just been punched in the stomach. “You’re right.”
“You are not an idiot and don’t even think that.”
Joshua ate a slice of pizza and wondered what he was supposed to do next. He was twenty-five and had never held a real job. Advertising didn’t sound half-bad. He liked Mad Men well enough. But he went back over the experiment and knew he had missed something.
Something important.
“You went twenty-five for twenty-five,” Joshua said. “Not because you’re clairvoyant. You knew which cards I was holding up because I could see what was on the cards . . . you’re a mind reader. A telepath.”
“Circle gets the square,” Hannah said. “Not that anyone would ever believe you, if you’re thinking of turning me into your own personal lab rat.”
“No,” Joshua said. He was suddenly and acutely aware of all the inappropriate things he’d thought about Hannah and wondered why, if she really could read his thoughts, why she still wanted to have dinner with him.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Hannah said. “I’m waiting for you to man up and kiss me.”
Bryan Carrigan
Email: Bryan Carrigan
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