“We have to switch around,” Flinch said. “So we get as many combinations of kids as possible.”
“Great,” Mr. Briggs said. “The more pairs we test, the more data we gather. It would take a long time if we ran every possible pairing. So we can’t do that. But we can run tests for a day or two and see how many we can get done. But first, we have to make the cards. I’ll bring in some supplies tomorrow and we can pitch in to assemble the decks. Then we can run tests on Wednesday and Thursday. Friday, we can examine our results.”
He walked back to the blackboard and picked up where he’d left off on the regular lesson. I didn’t have to be a mind reader to tell that most of the kids were excited about the experiment. Cheater, who was chattering away with Flinch, seemed as excited as everyone else. I guess he was sure the test would prove he didn’t have any special talents.
As it turned out, the one absolute thing the experiment proved was that I couldn’t see into the future.
TESTING, TESTING …
Tuesday afternoon, Mr. Briggs dumped a bagful of playing cards on the classroom floor. “Pair up. Take twenty-five cards.” He passed out sheets of paper with the five symbols printed on them. I guess he’d designed the pages on the computer. He also passed out glue and those blunt scissors—the kind people give little kids so they won’t hurt themselves or someone else. “Get to work,” he said.
We started making the decks, gluing the symbols onto the faces of the playing cards. There was a square, a star, a plus sign, a minus sign, and wavy lines.
“Why can’t we just use the pieces of paper?” Torchie asked.
“Anyone?” Mr. Briggs asked the class.
“The backs have to be identical,” Flinch said.
“Right.” Mr. Briggs nodded. “If there are any differences in the shape of the cards, the test results aren’t valid.”
We made up all the cards we needed by the end of class. The next day, we started the tests. Before we began, Mr. Briggs gave us some instructions. “The tester has to keep score. Get out a piece of paper. Every time the subject makes a guess, write either H for a hit or M for a miss, but don’t let the other person see the card, even after he’s guessed. That information could be used to help make the next guess. When you finish the test, count up the hits and misses. I wrote a program to keep track of the scores. Go to the computer, select the name of the sender and receiver, and enter how many hits you recorded.” He paused for a moment. I guess he was waiting to see if there were questions. Nobody said anything. “Okay, pair up and let’s get started.”
For the first test, I was paired with Lucky. I got six right. Lucky got five right—that was about what I expected. There were five different symbols, so each guess had one chance in five of being right. With twenty-five cards, a person who was just guessing blindly would be right about five times. A person might beat the odds and guess right six or seven times—maybe even eight—but only someone who could read minds would get a high score like fifteen or twenty.
“Pick another partner,” Mr. Briggs said after everyone had finished the first pair of experiments.
I found myself with one of the runts. I got five hits. So did he. Right on the average for each of us. On the last round of the day, as everyone scrambled for partners, I took too long making up my mind. There was only one person left. Cheater looked at me from across the room. I’d avoided him so far. I just didn’t want to be part of the proof. That way, he couldn’t blame me. But now I had no choice.
“I’ll go first,” he said. “You be the tester.” He seemed happy we were working together and eager to get started.
I reached for the top card. It took me two tries to get a grip on it. I stared at the figure on the face of the card. Square, I thought, trying to imagine a giant square.
“Star,” Cheater guessed.
I wrote M on the pad to record the miss and picked up the next card. It was a cross.
“Wavy lines,” Cheater guessed.
That’s how it went. As each card slid off the deck, I felt a little more of my confidence drain away. Cheater missed every single one. At first I was disappointed. But as I entered the score in the computer, I felt a bit relieved, too. Maybe it all had been my imagination. Maybe it was time to forget the whole thing.
I got seven right when Cheater tested me, “Hey, it looks like you’re the mind reader,” he said, grinning.
I held back a nasty reply. He was just trying to be friendly.
That was the last test we had time for that period. We ran another three sets on Thursday. By then, everyone was talking about the experiment.