America the Poor: A Wanderers Tale, Vol Two

Chapter 15:A Test of True Intelligence

During my first session, midway through it, John asked me if I would cooperate fully with a professional IQ test, for their records, and my own knowledge. "Certainly, but not on these drugs, stop them for a few days, and i'll take the test willingly, but not under the influence, if you wanna test me, test my natural unaffected mind".

He looked straight at me, seemed to think it over, and asked: "If I authorize this, will you agree to fully behave and cooperate during the period, no tantrums or outbursts, so we can take the test?"

"I give you my word, end the drugs for now if you want accurate results,, whatever pills they are giving me, and I will stay civil, and prove I can, and I will do my best for the testing, I'm highly curious as well, since I cheated on the last serious test,".

John smirked at this, and slowly nodded, and said he would indeed do his best, and I had to settle for that right then. So ended my very first session of so-called "therapy". It didn't seem particularly enlightening, for him or myself, and I was still very reluctant to be forthcoming; Since I was an unwilling prisoner, and would remain so the entire time I was locked up there.

That part would never change, at least not for a very long and sad time.

Nothing I did up to that point justified my being locked up up there in that tragic place, equal to a captured guinea pig. No, I wasn't fully innocent, but neither was I that evil (not yet) or guilty, but I suffered imprisonment regardless. I had threatened no one in reality, and nothing I had done was illegal at that point, besides trespassing I suppose.

All this was quite beyond my control by then, I could protest my innocence all day long, but it made no difference, I was there, therefore I was guilty. My fate was sealed, nothing beyond that truly mattered. My being in there, seemed to be enough to seal my future, personal choice had nothing to do with it at all.

Committed to an insane asylum for a possible violent crime that never actually occurred. I was guilty automatically, and considered a present danger to society. That was quite enough for any and all authorities, should I have bothered to protest. That's if I was even allowed a voice to protest, alas, I was not. I suffered in defiant sullen silence.

My "therapy" was twice a week, but I found John's recommendation had amazingly gone through. Medicine time was suspended for the moment. Apparently the state really did want to find out how intelligent I truly was, perhaps to know what they were dealing with I'd imagine. I'm sure upon my commitment they requested my academic records, but in my case, that wouldn't really help them, if anything it would confuse them even more. I was never an ordinary student, not in any sense of the word.

It would be impossible to gauge a patient's true intelligence under the influence of thorazine, or any mind altering drug in reality. A truly accurate test just wouldn't happen under the influence of mind altering drugs, and any results would be nullified ultimately. They needed me completely aware, awake, and undrugged for us all to proceed.

I kept my word as I always have in life. For the next few days, I kept my true temper in check, as I promised to, although I was pushed more than a few times. I purposely demonstrated my very sanity, and my ability to CHOOSE, which seemed to me in the realm of the very sane.

Medicine time came and went, and my name wasn't called, at least for that short time. For the next few days, I didn't have to take those small orange pills.

Apparently, my therapist's opinion had a bit of weight, for the moment I suppose. I played the boring board games, clear headed, and won most of them, since I was fully undrugged, and I was a powerfully intelligent boy. At least when I was left alone to be fully myself. Without a fog over my thoughts, they are crystal clear, like a white quartz crystal, and I see far more than most other human beings I've ever met personally.