"We both knew that, wonderful as she was, Fay would never understand.
"I needed her," I said, "and in a way she needed me, and living right across from each other, well it was just handy, that's all.
But I wouldn't call it love—not the same thing that exists between us."
She looked down at her hands and frowned.
"I'm not sure I know what does exist between us."
"Something so deep and significant that Charlie inside me is terrified whenever there seems to be any chance of my making love to you."
"And not with her?" I shrugged.
"That's how I know it's not important with her. It doesn't mean enough for Charlie to panic."
"Great!" she laughed.
"And ironic as hell.
When you talk about him that way, I hate him for coming between us.
Do you think he'll ever let you… let us…"
"I don't know.
I hope so."
I left her at the door. "We shook hands, and yet, strangely, it was much closer and more intimate than an embrace would have been. I went home and made love to Fay, but kept thinking of Alice.
July 27
Working around the clock.
Over Fay's protests, I've had a cot moved into the lab.
She's become too possessive and resentful of my work.
I think she could tolerate another woman, but not this complete absorption in something she can't follow.
I was afraid it would come to this, but I have no patience with her now.
I'm jealous of every moment away from the work—impatient with anyone who tries to steal my time. Though most of my writing time is spent on notes which I keep in a separate folder, from time to time I have to put down my moods and thoughts out of sheer habit.
The calculus of intelligence is a fascinating study.
In a sense this is the problem I've been concerned with all my life.
Here is the place for the application of all the knowledge I have acquired.
Time assumes another dimension now—work and absorption in the search for an answer.
The world around me and my past seem far away and distorted, as if time and space were taffy being stretched and looped and twisted out of shape.
The only real things are the cages and the mice and the lab equipment here on the fourth floor of the main building.
There is no night or day.
I've got to cram a lifetime of research into a few weeks.
I know I should rest, but I can't until I know the truth about what is happening.
Alice is a great help to me now.
She brings me sandwiches and coffee, but she makes no demands.
About my perception: everything is sharp and clear, each sensation heightened and illuminated so that reds and yellows and blues glow.
Sleeping here has a strange effect. The odors of the laboratory animals, dogs, monkeys, mice, spin me back into memories, and it is difficult to know whether I am experiencing a new sensation or recalling the past. It is impossible to tell what proportion is memory and what exists here and now—so that a strange compound is formed of memory and reality; past and present; response to stimuli stored in my brain centers, and response to stimuli in this room.
It's as if all the things I've learned have fused into a crystal universe spinning before me so that I can see all the facets of it reflected in gorgeous bursts of light….
A monkey sitting in the center of his cage, staring at me out of sleepy eyes, rubbing his cheeks with little old-man shriveled hands… chee… cheee… cheeeee.. . and bouncing off the cage wire, up to the swing overhead where the other monkey sits staring dumbly into space. Urinating, defecating, passing wind, staring at me and laughing… cheeee… cheeeee… cheeeee.. ..
And bouncing around, leap, hop, up around and down, he swings and tries to grab the other monkey's tail, but the one on the bar keeps swishing it away, without fuss, out of his grasp.
Nice monkey…pretty monkey…with big eyes and swishy tail.
Can I feed him a peanut?… No, the man'll holler.
That sign says do not feed the animals.
That's a chimpanzee.
Can I pet him?
No.
I want to pet the chip-a-zee.
Never mind, come and look at the elephants.
Outside, crowds of bright sunshiny people are dressed in spring.
Algernon lies in his own dirt, unmoving, and the odors are stronger than ever before.
And what about me?
July 28