the score appear encoded, leaving her disoriented and frustrated. She feels their meaning but doesnât know how to interpret them. As she flips through the pages, the notes blend together, forming shapes, and she remembers a game that she and her sister played as children. With a stack of scrap paper, they created moving pictures by drawing individual frames and fanning through them like a deck of cards. Christinaâs favorite was the swing. She would draw a little girl on a swing, then the same picture at a different angle on another sheet, and so on. Eventually, she could fan through them and the girl moved, as if she were swinging up and down.
She starts seeing the music this way. Picking up the score, she holds the binding in one hand and quickly moves through the pages with her thumb. The notes become images. The images form a picture. They seem to communicate something. The light around her fades.
FEBRUARY 17, 1983
4:32 A.M.
Staring down at the dark waters of the muddy Potomac, she notices that her hands have turned white from gripping the icy green rail of Key Bridge. She rocks her body back and forth, trying to remember how she got here and what she is doing.
â¦There is a room without floors and a man in black who floats toward her. He wears a red scarf and a shiny circular pendant around his neck. His mouth moves without making soundsâ¦.
Several cars pass behind her, and a flash of headlights breaks the trance. She looks at her watch.
âI need to go home,â she says aloud, looking again at the waters that call to her like a siren song. She turns and hails a cab.
âWhere to?â The driver looks over his shoulder.
She thinks for a moment. âI donât know.â
7
Light Without Shadows
W hen Samantha steps off the elevator onto the fifth floor of the clinic, she collides with Phebe, who mutters an apology and something about the bathroom. Samantha watches Phebe scurry down the hall, stunned less by the physical jolt than by her outfitâtwo frog hairclips that seem to be drowning in her waterfall of hair, a huge smiling frog on her T-shirt, green sweatpants, and slippers in the shape of frogs that squeak with every step.
Samantha turns and walks past an empty nursing station. Except for the gray carpet and dim lighting, the corridor looks like a hospital floor. Sterile and nondescriptâbut at least it doesnât smell like antiseptic. She inhales again and recognizes the scent of grassy fields after a long rain.
Both Phebe and Arty have already chosen rooms, and Samantha feels like a latecomer at summer camp who doesnât show up early enough to pick a good bunk. She walks down the hall, looking for a room. On the walls outside of each door, there are two screens. The top one is familiar to her; it displays both an electroencephalogram and an electrocardiogram. She hasseen her brain wave and heart rate activity measured like this at the institute. The bottom screen shows a video feed of the bed inside, allowing Dr. Clay and the attending nurse to watch patientsâ faces and bodies during sleep.
Samantha steps into a small, empty room and places her overnight bag on the only chair. Nothing hangs on the walls. The muted lighting shows the room to be monochromatic. The bedside table, mattress frame, and chair are the same off-white color. They match the walls. She changes into shorts and a loose T-shirt, then sits on the firm bed.
She doesnât have time to begin worrying about whether this treatment will work before she hears Phebe scurrying down the hall.
Squeak, squeak, squeak, squeak. Squeak, squeak, squeak, squeak .
Phebe peers into the room and says âGood nightâ cheerfully, without waiting for a response. Samantha smiles at the sound of the slippers as Phebe continues to her room.
The hall becomes quiet again, and Dr. Clay steps inside. He half smiles, nodding his head and looking more at the clipboard in his hands than at
She starts seeing the music this way. Picking up the score, she holds the binding in one hand and quickly moves through the pages with her thumb. The notes become images. The images form a picture. They seem to communicate something. The light around her fades.
FEBRUARY 17, 1983
4:32 A.M.
Staring down at the dark waters of the muddy Potomac, she notices that her hands have turned white from gripping the icy green rail of Key Bridge. She rocks her body back and forth, trying to remember how she got here and what she is doing.
â¦There is a room without floors and a man in black who floats toward her. He wears a red scarf and a shiny circular pendant around his neck. His mouth moves without making soundsâ¦.
Several cars pass behind her, and a flash of headlights breaks the trance. She looks at her watch.
âI need to go home,â she says aloud, looking again at the waters that call to her like a siren song. She turns and hails a cab.
âWhere to?â The driver looks over his shoulder.
She thinks for a moment. âI donât know.â
7
Light Without Shadows
W hen Samantha steps off the elevator onto the fifth floor of the clinic, she collides with Phebe, who mutters an apology and something about the bathroom. Samantha watches Phebe scurry down the hall, stunned less by the physical jolt than by her outfitâtwo frog hairclips that seem to be drowning in her waterfall of hair, a huge smiling frog on her T-shirt, green sweatpants, and slippers in the shape of frogs that squeak with every step.
Samantha turns and walks past an empty nursing station. Except for the gray carpet and dim lighting, the corridor looks like a hospital floor. Sterile and nondescriptâbut at least it doesnât smell like antiseptic. She inhales again and recognizes the scent of grassy fields after a long rain.
Both Phebe and Arty have already chosen rooms, and Samantha feels like a latecomer at summer camp who doesnât show up early enough to pick a good bunk. She walks down the hall, looking for a room. On the walls outside of each door, there are two screens. The top one is familiar to her; it displays both an electroencephalogram and an electrocardiogram. She hasseen her brain wave and heart rate activity measured like this at the institute. The bottom screen shows a video feed of the bed inside, allowing Dr. Clay and the attending nurse to watch patientsâ faces and bodies during sleep.
Samantha steps into a small, empty room and places her overnight bag on the only chair. Nothing hangs on the walls. The muted lighting shows the room to be monochromatic. The bedside table, mattress frame, and chair are the same off-white color. They match the walls. She changes into shorts and a loose T-shirt, then sits on the firm bed.
She doesnât have time to begin worrying about whether this treatment will work before she hears Phebe scurrying down the hall.
Squeak, squeak, squeak, squeak. Squeak, squeak, squeak, squeak .
Phebe peers into the room and says âGood nightâ cheerfully, without waiting for a response. Samantha smiles at the sound of the slippers as Phebe continues to her room.
The hall becomes quiet again, and Dr. Clay steps inside. He half smiles, nodding his head and looking more at the clipboard in his hands than at
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