EXCERPT 13 FROM 'IRRECONCILABLE, A NOVEL'. CHAPTERS 'WHY'; 'GETTING CLOSER'; 'NEW YORK TO WASHINGTON'

Jen’s recall of the words became dimmer, replaced by a feeling of guilt and loneliness as she reclined in her seat. As she roused from her half-sleep state she noticed that she was quietly sobbing.

IRRECONCILABLE IS A NOVEL SERIALIZED ON SUBSTACK. IT WILL BE MORE UNDERSTANDABLE IF YOU READ THE EXCERPTS PRECEDING THIS ONE. THEY CAN BE ACCESSED ON STEVEN TREISTMAN’S SUBSTACK PAGE.

CHAPTER- Why?

They sat down for dinner, a simple stew that Wendy had prepared. They had gotten crusty French bread from the bakery down the street, incredibly good, and a favorite treat, to go with it.

After a couple of spoonsful, Jen looked up.

“Wendy, I wanna bring you up to speed. I told you about my first session with Al’s psychologist friend, Pam .…mostly ground rules and getting to know each other. Pam asked me my short-term goals. I told her that I wasn’t interested in discussing what happened when I was a baby, even if it’s important. She agreed. I told her I wanted to answer a very simple “Why” question. Why would I jeopardize a great life…great relationship with you, satisfying professional career, achieving more than I ever anticipated? Is it some sort of pathology? Pam gently suggested that thinking in terms of pathology might not be the most productive framing of the issue for me. I felt relieved, as if I had feared a reprimand for whining.”

“Jen, Pam sounds OK. Right for you.”

“Yeah. It’s still pretty early, but I’m liking her so far.”

Wendy placed her hands on her hips and slightly jutted her chin toward Jen. “So, what’s the answer?”

Jen laughed. They both smiled, appreciating a slight off-ramp from what could be an intense conversation. “No pressure, right?”

“Sorry, you know I’m teasing you. Jen, I’m constantly being amazed by you. You seem to be fearless. I’m not sure I’d be asking questions like that. I’d be afraid to hear the verdict.”

Jen continued, “Pam constantly asks me, ‘How does it feel’”?

“Sometimes, I realize I’m feeling like a kid. She’s a big believer in what she calls body memory. Like when I report tingling in my belly as we talk, she asks if that’s a familiar feeling. Her questioning brought my guard up. I reminded her that I didn’t think I had the time to explore what I had felt as a child.”

Wendy raised her voice a bit, “And she answered, what?”

“She assured me that she wasn’t heading there, even if that might not be clear at the moment.”

“And it sounds like you have to trust her on that for the moment, right?”

“Yes. But I do trust her, at least for now.”

Jen was staring out the window, avoiding eye contact with Wendy. Wendy noticed.

“What are you thinking about?”

“I’m feeling the tingling in my belly. Right now. I never would have noticed it before. This conversation is making me nervous. Like I’m being dragged someplace I don’t want to go. I remember something from a psychology course that struck me as close to home, approach-avoidance behavior. The closer you come to the goal, the greater the anxiety, but withdrawal from the goal then increases the desire. I feel that’s my life in a nutshell.

Wendy put up her hand,

“I’m not trying to take you anyplace you don’t want to go.”

“I know. I really want to share all of this with you. I think it’s really important. But it’s hard.”

“I appreciate it, and I appreciate your caring.”

“Pam asked me how other choice points have played out for me as an adult. I didn’t feel like talking about high school, so I mentioned the most obvious choice I had to make when I went to college. What would I major in? She asked me to close my eyes and picture that time. Why did I choose biology? I mentioned that it had never felt like a choice. My mother had told me forever that I was going to be a doctor. And I was compliant. I never thought about other options. It was like my mind was programmed not to go anywhere other than her wishes. I hated being premed. I hated the other premed students’ desperate grasping for the grades to get into med school. I deviated from the plan and changed my major from premed to zoology. I loved studying zoology. Suddenly, it was the love of knowledge, not the tortured fulfillment of my mother’s dream driving me. I studied garter snake locomotion for my senior honors project. I trapped the snakes in the grass at the edge of the woods on campus, and ran them in a maze with moveable pegs. Graduate School was great. I continued with zoology, and I lived pillbugs, and Siamese fighting fish, and hawks. But the siren song was too strong, and I succumbed. I transferred out of the zoology department and into the doctoral program in the medical school. I’m sure my mother was encouraging this somewhere in the depths of my psyche. I did great, and received my doctorate in three years, record time, even after spending a year and a half in zoology. I studied crayfish neurophysiology for my thesis project. But I wasn’t studying the crayfish. I was simply using it as a vehicle for a nervous system that lent itself to understanding problems of medical significance. Funding was from the National Institutes of Health, not the National Science Foundation. As I forced myself to relive it in Pam’s office, I noticed a constriction in my chest, and shallow breathing. I didn’t feel that it was me talking. Mostly, I felt utter confusion. My mind seemed unable to focus. And I had this fear and anxiety that maybe I had been living an awesome mistake. Not living authentically my whole life. And even after my trying to appease my mother, she asked me soon after I got my Ph.D., when would I be ‘going on’ for my M.D.? Maybe my genuine self craves being an author? Bulky heather-colored wool sweaters rather than a lab coat. It’s confusing, because it’s been a great life. So confusing. By the time the session ended, I had some inkling of how therapy with Pam might help me. And a hope that this decision on whether to climb out of the tower and play in the real world isn’t one I sleepwalk into. Also, maybe I’m more interested in the animals than with the patients who might benefit from the research. And how would I sort that out on the battlefield of public opinion that I’m being pushed to enter? Al, Frank Smith, I would be letting them down if I don’t do it. And maybe I’d be letting myself down, as well. I wish that I had the clarity of purpose that I see in others. No constant second-guessing would be nirvana.”

Wendy asked, looking down at the floor, “And where do I fit into the picture? Did you sleepwalk into our relationship?”.

“I know that I love you. But how far do I bend to please you before I lose sight of who I am?”

“Jen, what would you think of my joining you in your sessions. I’ve got a big stake in this.”

Jen leaned forward toward Wendy. “I brought that up with Pam, and she said it would be a bad idea.”

“And you didn’t push it?”

“No. I see Pam again in three days.

Wendy stood up. “I’m tired. I’ll see you in bed. I appreciate your exploring this, but I have to say, it’s making me feel more distant, not closer”

CHAPTER- Getting Closer

The effort that went into making Frank Smith’s vision a reality was impressive. The heavy lifting had been coordinated mostly by Smith and Al Fein[?], Jen’s chancellor. While Jen knew that the groundwork was being laid, she wasn’t asked to do anything to make it happen.

Tom Messer, the astrophysics-turned PBS commentator was the conduit though which Smith and Fein maintained contact with Jen during this stage. Their last call came as it was becoming clear that barring a catastrophic deal-breaker, she was going to agree to the tour. Jen clicked the link. They had met briefly before, and Jen looked forward to seeing him on the screen. He was friendly, without being intrusive.

“Hi Jen. See you in a couple of days. It’ll be nice to actually be in the same room. I want to make sure that nothing’s been overlooked, before you get here. Also, I want to reiterate how excited I am about this. And Frank is over the moon. I think he sees this as the most important thing he’s done here.

“Tom, you’ve been great. I’m looking forward to meeting with you, too. Let’s get to it.”

“Professionally, I think you’ll be able to be away for the three weeks. You’ll have the funds for a new technician, and a faculty appointment for Andy Brenner, your senior postdoctoral fellow. You said he was capable of keeping the laboratory on track.”

“Yeah, I couldn’t move forward on this without the extra help”

“We’re thinking five cities, all PBS studios, with as many local interviews as you’re comfortable with.”

“OK.”

“Frank will go over all the travel, housing, etc. arrangements with you. And he’s willing to cover the costs for Wendy to join you on a couple of the stops.

“Good.” She paused. “What about Fox? I want your take on him. He’s the major potential deal-breaker for me. Are he and I on the same page? I’m not willing to put up with his showboating.”

Tom nodded. “Frank and I know that, and we were prepared to abort the arrangement if we picked up even a whiff of clowning. We didn’t. Don’t forget we’re going to have quite a stake in this thing. Being a laughingstock isn’t high on our list.”

Jen went on, “You saw him at the hearing. I’m not going to sit with him in an interview with his supporters parading around dressed in animal suits.”

“He understands that that’s not going to happen. Also, he was able to be serious, even at the hearing. I think that the two of you are a perfect pair to frame the arguments in a compelling way. I think it’s going to be ground-breaking.”

“I was talking with one of my good friends, whose opinion I trust. He told me that he didn’t think it would necessarily be enjoyable, but that it would be satisfying.

“Jen, I told you that I was running a pretty successful research lab, when I decided to leave it move to PBS. I had plenty of reservations. But I’m glad I did it. I think your friend may be underestimating the possibilities. I’m predicting that it will be both enjoyable and satisfying. I hope we can make it happen. I’m here to help you any way that I can.”

“Tom, I’m sitting here in a state of rigor mortis. I’m terrified.”

Tom smiled. “It’s a big move with consequences that you probably can’t even predict. You’d be insane if you weren’t terrified.”

Jen was laughing, “Wow, that makes me feel better.”

Tom was now laughing with some gusto. Hey, I didn’t even tell you the best part. We have a PBS sweatshirt all ready for you. Just let me know the color.”

“Cool. Why didn’t you tell me that at the start? See you in a couple of days.”

“Bye, Jen. See you soon.” And the screen went blank.

CHAPTER- New York to Washington

Jen had been sitting at the gate for about twenty minutes when the message, “Flight 405, the hourly shuttle to Washington DC will be boarding at Gate 44B in fifteen minutes sounded.” It had been twenty-three days [?]since she left Washington after the hearing. Although there had been numerous media requests for interviews, she had not accepted any of them. She had made getting caught up with her laboratory her main priority, meeting with members of her lab group to review data, plan experiments, and finish the revision of a manuscript for publication. To the best of her ability, she was shutting out the demands of the world outside of science. The Chancellor had checked in with her, and his advice,

“Jen, enjoy it now, because as this whole thing unfolds, I’m afraid that that may not remain possible.” His words echoed in her mind. It was clear that Al fully expected her to accept Frank Smith’s debate invitation and engage on the national political stage.

Jen settled into her seat near the front of the plane, happy that the seat next to her remained empty. She had watched anxiously as the other passengers filed past her, hoping that none of them would stop to reach up and store their carry-on in the bin above her. She reflected on a period a few years ago when she took the shuttle every three months to attend NIH study section meetings. Being chosen to serve on study section had been a very concrete affirmation of her rising standing in the scientific community. It was at these two-day meetings in Washington that the panel would vote a priority score to each of the grant applications received from universities around the country. Jen had felt a tremendous responsibility. A negative score could literally jettison the career of a fellow scientist. It would mean that they would no longer have the funds to maintain their laboratory. Sometimes, it would mean that their salary was in peril, without the contribution from NIH. In those days, especially at the start of her five-year appointment, before she had gotten skilled at assessing an application quickly and then avoiding ruminating over the score she planned, the luxury of sleeping during the flight was not a possibility. She would be reviewing the applications right up to the last minute. And it wasn’t just to do right by the applicant. It was also to avoid being called out by one of her colleagues on the panel for a careless oversight in her review. But even with all that work and pressure, she had been comfortable. It was science. This trip was different. What awaited her was not simply a matter of hypothesis and data analysis and budget. In fact, she had little idea what awaited her this time. Her eyes closed within seconds of touching her head to the headrest. But sleep was elusive.

She was tired, but she couldn’t stop her mind from replaying the tense exchanges she had had with Wendy in the couple of days before she left.

“I really don’t feel cared for by you.” Wendy had said this with tears running down her cheeks.

“I’m sorry you feel that way.” I’m not sure I can convince you otherwise. You may have noticed that I’m kind of overwhelmed at the moment.” Jen felt miserable about Wendy. Of course she didn’t feel cared for.

“Wendy, I’m running on empty.”

“Right, and you’ll get even emptier, especially for me, if you pursue this new path. Maybe I’m being selfish, but it’s not what I want.”

“Well, maybe I am being selfish, but right now, I need to make sense of what I’m feeling and want, Jen had said.”

Jen’s recall of the words became dimmer, replaced by a pervasive feeling of guilt and loneliness as she reclined in her seat. She drifted in and out of sleep for the next thirty minutes before being awakened by the announcement of their imminent landing in DC. As she roused from her half-sleep state she noticed that she was quietly sobbing.