Maybe before I didn't know any better, but now I do, and I don't like it."
"Nobody's making fun of you here, Charlie," said Nemur.
"What about the inkblots?
Last time Burt told me there were pictures in the ink—that everyone could see, and I—"
"Look, Charlie, would you like to hear the exact words Burt said to you, and your answers as well?
We have a tape-recording of that testing session.
We can replay it and let you hear exactly what was said." I went back with them to the psych office with mixed feelings. I was sure they had made fun of me and tricked me when I was too ignorant to know better. My anger was an exciting feeling, and I didn't give it up easily. I was ready to fight.
As Nemur went to the files to get the tape, Burt explained:
"Last time, I used almost the exact words I used today.
It's a requirement of these tests that the procedure be the same each time it's administered."
"I'll believe that when I hear it."
A look passed between them.
I felt the blood rush to my face again.
They were laughing at me.
But then I realized what I had just said, and hearing myself I understood the reason for the look.
They weren't laughing.
They knew what was happening to me.
I had reached a new level, and anger and suspicion were my first reactions to the world around me.
Burt's voice boomed over the tape recorder:
"Now I want you to look at this card, Charlie.
What might this be?
What do you see on this card?
People see all kinds of things in these inkblots.
Tell me what it makes you think of…"
The same words, almost the same tone of voice he had used minutes ago in the lab.
And then I heard my answers—childish, impossible things. And I dropped limply into the chair beside Professor Nemur's desk.
"Was that really me?"
I went back to the lab with Burt, and we went on with the Rorschach.
We went through the cards slowly.
This time my responses were different. I "saw" things in the inkblots.
A pair of bats tugging at each other.
Two men fencing with swords.
I imagined all sorts of things.
But even so, I found myself not trusting Burt completely any more. I kept turning the cards around, checking the backs to see if there was anything there I was supposed to catch.
I peeked, while he was making his notes. But it was all in code that looked like this: WF + A DdF-Ad orig. WF — A SF + obj
The test still doesn't make sense.
It seems to me that anyone could make up lies about things he didn't really see.
How could they know I wasn't making fools of them by saying things I didn't really imagine?
Maybe I'll understand it when Dr. Strauss lets me read up on psychology.
It's getting harder for me to write down all my thoughts and feelings because I know that people are reading them. Maybe it would be better if I could keep some of these reports private for a while. I'm going to ask Dr. Strauss.
Why should it suddenly start to bother me?
PROGRESS REPORT 10
April 21
I figured out a new way to set up the mixing machines in the bakery to speed up production.
Mr. Donner says he will save labor costs and increase profits.
He gave me a fifty-dollar bonus and a ten-dollar-a-week raise.
I wanted to take Joe Carp and Frank Reilly out to lunch to celebrate, but Joe had to buy some things for his wife, and Frank was meeting his cousin for lunch.
I guess it will take time for them to get used to the changes in me.
Everyone seems frightened of me.
When I went over to Gimpy and tapped him on the shoulder to ask him something, he jumped up and dropped his cup of coffee all over himself.