by Ric Rodriguez
Copyright 2004 Ric Rodriguez
The postage-sized ad in The Star Ledger simply stated that a major pharmaceutical company needed a subject for an experimental drug, and that it paid well. Wilson thought it strange that someone would be doing scientific tests in Elizabeth, New Jersey, but he was desperate. He had a wife and daughter to support, and things were getting uglier by the day. The car had been repossessed, the debts were growing out of control, and the rent was due. The only thing Wilson seemed to be good at was getting fired.
The center was located less than a mile from Wilson’s Elizabeth Port apartment, so he was able to walk there. From the outside, it was a simple brick building with no windows. The inside, though, was white and smelled of antiseptic. Dr. Hay was in charge of the “project.” He handed the applicants a ten page test along with a number 2 pencil. Wilson began to sweat; he had never been good at tests. He was tempted to walk right out, but then he remembered the rent. Why not give it a shot? he thought. He rushed through the test, then left. There was a message waiting for him when he got home: Please come back tomorrow.
“I did okay?” Wilson asked Dr. Hay the next day.