Dr. Samson Candella is about to send elderly Mrs. Dolly Collyburn, the university cafeteria lady, into the Wish Machine.
“Are you Dr. Candella?” she said in a shy uncertain voice that was barely above a whisper.
A lady of indeterminate age stood in the doorway. She hesitated, no sure whether she should come in.
“I am,” I replied. “How can I be of service, madame?”
“I am answering your advertisement for a volunteer.”
My heart dropped to my shoes. I expected a hungry needy unattached but sturdy healthy student to answer my ad. With the rough life students lived these days with their non-stop sex orgies and drinking binges I was certain my Wish Machine could not possibly cause them harm. Any students that came knocking on my door anxious to earn a hundred dollars would have few questions. However, I had not expected somebody’s elderly grandmother.
“Please. Come in and sit down,” I said as graciously as I could, motioning to an empty chair across from my desk.
She was 65 or 70, overweight and she moved as though she was suffering from arthritis. Her hands were red and work-worn and her clothes were neat but frumpy. Her white hair was tied in a tidy bun at the top of her head. Only her blue eyes still held the bright spark of the girl she once might have been.
With single-minded directness she said, “Is it true that you will pay $100 for an hour’s work?”
“Yes,” I replied reluctantly. “That is correct.”
What else could I say? I had made no restrictions to the offer in my foolish advertisement.
She grew bolder.
“I am Mrs. Dolly Collyburn. I work in the school cafeteria part time. What would I have to do to earn the $100, sir?”
Her blunt question forced me to say something. She was here. I needed a volunteer. I hoped I was making the right decision.
“I am conducting a series of experiments, Mrs. Collyburn. Your job would be to sit upon a comfortable reclining chair next to a machine. The machine is a sort of mind reader. You must relax and think of a moment of your life, a very special moment, which you would most like to remember. Think strongly and try to recall every detail of the experience. Later, after the machine is turned off and you rise, all you have to do is to speak into my recorder and tell me what happened. When you are finished I will give you a cashier’s check for $100 … or cash is you prefer.”
Still apprehensive, she nodded uncertainly. The money was appealing. I could read it in her face but her words were unsure.
“That doesn’t sound very hard. Is it dangerous?”
“No, I have done it myself and I am in the best of health.”
As I said this I had a qualm. I had no way of knowing what her experience would be. It might be so shocking to her nervous system that my first subject would be my last. I could see the Michigan Sentinel headlines now: UNIVERSITY PHYSICS PROFESSOR MURDERS CAFETERIA WORKER.
I had to ask.
“Are you in good health, Mrs. Collyburn?”
“Yes, sir. Except for my arthritis I am well.”
A frown appeared. Her gaze flickered around the room and fixed upon the Wish Machine in the corner. I could read her thoughts; “Is he asking about my health because there is something dangerous about his experiment?”
I improvised.
“I am only inquiring, Mrs. Collyburn, because all my subjects must be in reasonably good health. Colds and the flu are going around. I wouldn’t want a virus or bacteria to infect my volunteers.”
I added a note of reassurance.
“It may be very enjoyable. I would not be surprised if you asked to be accepted for many more such experiments,” I said, smiling encouragement I did not feel.
With a small smile of resignation she nodded agreement.
“Very well, doctor. When may I start?”
Next time, Dolly enters the Wish Machine and finds heaven on earth.
Gene Paleno is an author and illustrator living in Witter Springs.
