Please forward us your résumé, including previous research experience, graduate and postgraduate transcripts, and two letters of recommendation.

Please forward us your résumé, including previous research experience, graduate and postgraduate transcripts, and two letters of recommendation. Best, Gary Franklin Allen Black lived on the Lower East Side and was a doorman for a building on Central Park South, which was where we found him. He said he hated being a doorman, because he had been an engineer in Russia, and now his brain was dying. He showed us a little portable TV that he kept in his pocket. "It plays DVDs," he said, "and if I had an email account, I could check it on this, too." I told him I could set up an e-mail account for him if he wanted. He said, "Yeah?" I took his evice, which I wasn't familiar with, but figured out pretty quickly, and set everything up. I said, "What do you want for a ser name?" I suggested "Allen," or "AllenBlack," or a nickname. "Or 'Engineer.' That could be cool." He put his finger on his mustache and thought about it. I asked if he had any kids. He said, "A son. Soon he's going to be taller than me. Taller nd smarter. He'll be a great doctor. A brain surgeon. Or lawyer for the Supreme Court." "Well, you could make it your son's name, although I guess that might be confusing." He said, "Doorman." "What?" "Make it 'Doorman.'" "You can make it anything you want." "Doorman." I made it "Doorman215," because there were already 214 doormen. As we were leaving, he said, "Good luck, Oskar." I said, "How did you know my name was Oskar?" Mr. Black said, "You told him." When I got home that afternoon I sent him an e-mail: "It's too bad you didn't know anything about the key, but it was still nice to meet you." Dear Oskar, While you certainly express yourself like an intelligent young man, without ever having met you, and knowing nothing of our experience with scientific research, Yd have a hard time writing a recommendation. hanks for the kind words about my work, and best of luck with your explorations, scientific and otherwise. Most sincerely, Jane Goodall Arnold Black got right to the point: "I just can't help. Sorry." I said, "But we haven't even told you what we need help with." He started getting teary and he said, "I'm sorry," and closed the door. Mr. Black said, "Onward ho." I nodded, and inside I thought, Weird. Thank you for your letter. Because of the large olume of mail I receive, I am unable to write ersonal responses. Nevertheless, know that I ead and save every letter, with the hope of one ay being able to give each the proper response it eserves. Until that day, Most sincerely, Stephen Hawking The week was incredibly boring, except for when I remembered the key. Even though I knew that there were 161,999,999 locks in New York that it didn't open, I still felt like it opened everything. Sometimes I liked to touch it just to know that it was there, like the pepper spray I kept in my pocket. Or the opposite of that. I adjusted the string so the keys--one to the partment, one to I-didn't-know-what--rested against my heart, which was nice, except the only thing was that it felt too cold sometimes, so I put a Band-Aid on that part of my chest, and the keys rested on that. onday was boring. n Tuesday afternoon I had to go to Dr. Fein. I didn't understand why I needed help, because it seemed to me that you should wear heavy boots when your dad dies, and if you aren't wearing heavy boots, then you need help. But I went anyway, because the raise in my allowance depended on it. "Hey, buddy." "Actually, I'm not your buddy." "Right. Well. It's great weather today, don't you think? If you want, we ould go outside and toss a ball." "Yes to thinking it's great weather. No to wanting to toss a ball." "You sure?" "Sports ren't fascinating." "What do you find fascinating?" "What kind of answer are you looking for?" "What makes you think 'm looking for something?" "What makes you think I'm a huge moron?" "I don't think you're a huge moron. I don't think ou're any kind of moron." "Thanks." "Why do you think you're here, Oskar?" "I'm here, Dr. Fein, because it upsets my om that I'm having an impossible time with my life." "Should it upset her?" "Not really. Life is impossible." "When you ay that you're having an impossible time, what do you mean?" "I'm constantly emotional." "Are you emotional right ow?" "I'm extremely emotional right now." "What emotions are you feeling?" "All of them." "Like..." "Right now I'm eeling sadness, happiness, anger, love, guilt, joy, shame, and a little bit of humor, because part of my brain is emembering something hilarious that Toothpaste once did that I can't talk about." "Sounds like you're feeling an awful ot." "He put Ex-Lax in the pain au chocolat we sold at the French Club bake sale." "That is funny." "I'm feeling everything." "This emotionalness of yours, does it affect your daily life?" "Well, to answer your question, I don't think that's a real word you used. Emotionalness. But I understand what you were trying to say, and yes. I end up crying a lot, usually in private. It's extremely hard for me to go to school. I also can't sleep over at friends' apartments, because I get panicky about being away from Mom. I'm not very good with people." "What do you think is going on?" "I feel too much. That's what's going on." "Do you think one can feel too much? Or just feel in the wrong ways?" "My insides don't match up with my out-sides." "Do anyone's insides and outsides match up?" "I don't know. I'm only me." "Maybe that's what a person's personality is: the difference between the inside and outside." "But it's worse for me." "I wonder if everyone thinks it's worse for him." "Probably. But it really is worse for me." He sat back in his chair and put his pen on his desk. "Can I ask you a personal question?" "It's a free country." "Have you noticed any tiny hairs on your scrotum?" "Scrotum." "The scrotum is the pouch at the base of your penis that holds your testicles." "My nuts." "That's right." "Fascinating." "Go ahead and take a second to think about it. I can turn around." "I on't need to think. I don't have tiny hairs on my scrotum." He wrote something on a piece of paper. "Dr. Fein?" "Howard." "You told me to tell you when I feel self-conscious." "Yes." "I feel self-conscious." "I'm sorry. I know it was a ery personal question. I only asked because sometimes, when our bodies change, we experience dramatic changes in our emotional lives. I was wondering if perhaps some of what you've been experiencing is due to changes in your body." It isn't. It's because my dad died the most horrible death that anyone ever could invent." e looked at me and I looked at him. I promised myself that I wouldn't be the first to look away. But, as usual, I was. "What would you say to a little game?" "Is it a brain teaser?" "Not really." "I like brain teasers." "So do I. But this isn't a brain teaser." "Bummer." "I'm going to say a word and I want you to tell me the first thing that comes to mind. You can say a word, a person's name, or even a sound. Whatever. There are no right or wrong answers here. No rules. Should we ive it a try?" I said, "Shoot." He said, "Family." I said, "Family." He said, "I'm sorry. I don't think I explained this well. I'll ay a word, and you tell me the first thing you think of." I said, "You said 'family' and I thought of family." He said, "But et's try not to use the same word. OK?" "OK. I mean, yeah." "Family." "Heavy petting." "Heavy petting?" "It's when a man ubs a woman's VJ with his fingers. Right?" "Yes, that's right. OK. There are no wrong answers. How about safety?" "How bout it?" "OK." "Yeah." "Bellybutton." "Bellybutton?" "Bellybutton." "I can't think of anything but bellybutton." "Give it a ry. Bellybutton." "Bellybutton doesn't make me think of anything." "Dig deep." "In my bellybutton?" "In your brain, skar." "Uh." "Bellybutton. Bellybutton." "Stomach anus?" "Good." "Bad." "No, I meant, 'Good. You did good.'" "I did well." "Well." "Water." "Celebrate." "Ruff, ruff." "Was that a bark?" "Anyway." "OK. Great." "Yeah." "Dirty." "Bellybutton." Uncomfortable." "Extremely." "Yellow." "The color of a yellow person's bellybutton." "Let's see if we can keep it to one word, though, OK?" "For a game with no rules, this game has a lot of rules." "Hurt." "Realistic." "Cucumber." "Formica." Formica?" "Cucumber?" "Home." "Where the stuff is." "Emergency." "Dad." "Is your father the cause of the emergency, r the solution to it?" "Both." "Happiness." "Happiness. Oops. Sorry." "Happiness." "I don't know." "Try. Happiness." Dunno." "Happiness. Dig." I shrugged my shoulders. "Happiness, happiness." "Dr. Fein?" "Howard." "Howard?" "Yes?" I'm feeling self-conscious." e spent the rest of the forty-five minutes talking, although I didn't have anything to say to him. I didn't want to be there. didn't want to be anywhere that wasn't looking for the lock. When it was almost time for Mom to come in, Dr. Fein said e wanted us to make a plan for how the next week could be better than the last one. He said, "Why don't you tell me ome things you think you can do, things to keep in mind. And then next week we'll talk about how successful you were." I'll try to go to school." "Good. Really good. What else?" "Maybe I'll try to be more patient with morons." "Good. And hat else?" "I don't know, maybe I'll try not to ruin things by getting so emotional." "Anything else?" "I'll try to be nicer to y mom." "And?" "Isn't that enough?" "It is. It's more than enough. And now let me ask you, how do you think you're oing to accomplish those things you mentioned?" "I'm gonna bury my feelings deep inside me." "What do you mean, ury your feelings?" "No matter how much I feel, I'm not going to let it out. If I have to cry, I'm gonna cry on the inside. If I ave to bleed, I'll bruise. If my heart starts going crazy, I'm not gonna tell everyone in the world about it. It doesn't help nything. It just makes everyone's life worse." "But if you're burying your feelings deep inside you, you won't really be you, will you?" "So?" "Can I ask you one last question?" "Was that it?" "Do you think any good can come from your ather's death?" "Do I think any good can come from my father's death?" "Yes. Do you think any good can come from your father's death?" I kicked over my chair, threw his papers across the floor, and hollered, "No! Of course not, you ucking asshole!" hat was what I wanted to do. Instead I just shrugged my shoulders. went out to tell Mom it was her turn. She asked me how it went. I said, "OK." She said, "Your magazines are in my bag. And a juice box." I said, "Thanks." She bent down and kissed me. When she went in, I very quietly took the stethoscope from my field kit, got on my knees, and pressed the whatever-theend-is-called against the door. The bulb? Dad would have known. I couldn't hear a lot, and sometimes I wasn't sure if no one was talking or if I just wasn't hearing what they were saying. expect too much too quickly I know you? What me? you doing? I'm not the point. Until you're feeling to be impossible for Oskar to But until he's feeling it's to feel OK. don't know. a problem. you? I don't don't know? hours and hours to explain. you try to start? Start easy do you happy? What's funny? used to be someone me a question, and I could say yes, or but believe in short answers anymore.