Dr. Edward Wilkinson was a young neurosurgeon who had worked under Fulton in the primate lab at Yale. He was particularly interested in Robert’s line of inquiry and had sought Robert out after a guest lecture in New Haven. Robert enjoyed the adulation and, sensing a protégé in the making, had stayed in touch with the young doctor over the past several years. He was sure Edward would make the perfect partner for the new project.
While Dr. Wilkinson didn’t have much of a professional track record yet, he had glowing recommendations from his professors and a deep determination that, Robert told Ruth, reminded him of his younger self. As soon as Robert had decided that neurosurgery was the key to his new treatment for mental illness, he knew Edward Wilkinson would be the perfect man for the job. Nevertheless, Ruth insisted on a complete search process, interviewing dozens of doctors to ensure she had properly vetted all available candidates. In the end, she agreed Edward was the one.
“He is entirely unlike most of the others I have interviewed, in the best possible way,” Ruth said excitedly to her boss.
“Ah yes,” Charles Hayden said with a grin. “These neurosurgeons tend to be a rather arrogant bunch, don’t they?”
“Spectacularly so! Each one has been more impressed with himself and his accomplishments than the next, and none have seemed to have any interest in the work we are trying to do here. Whereas not only has Dr. Wilkinson worked in the primate research lab, he was the sole applicant to know about Dr. Moniz’s leucotomy study.”
“Well, to be fair, most in the field wouldn’t know about that study. If it weren’t for you and your husband, I would be among the men bumbling in the dark on that one.”
“You’re right, I suppose.” Ruth paused thoughtfully. “Perhaps Robert’s rubbed off on me too much. I used to tease him for assuming the cutting-edge research that he studies is common knowledge. And now, here I am doing the same!” Ruth smiled at that idea. “Nevertheless, I think Dr. Wilkinson is the man we have been looking for.”
Edward Wilkinson carried himself so inconspicuously that it took careful scrutiny to realize how tall and handsome he actually was. His unassuming manner, combined with his obvious intellect, made him stand out to Ruth and, in the end, impressed Hayden in equal measure.
“Dr. Wilkinson, I would love to hear from you directly as to why you are interested in this role, as it is far from a traditional one for a neurosurgeon.”
“Yes, sir. Of course. I suppose my interests aren’t entirely traditional.” He looked up from his fidgeting hands directly at Ruth and Charles, and as his floppy blond hair moved away from his eyes, Ruth was startled by the brightness of their blue hue. “Mr. Hayden, Mrs. Apter, I am endlessly fascinated by the puzzle of the mind. I want to touch it, and to heal it. I want to be the safest, most accurate, most effective surgeon I can possibly be. But I want to use my skills in the name of progress.”
“I see. Wonderful. What type of progress do you mean?” Charles nodded encouragingly.
Ruth smiled to herself. She appreciated that Dr. Wilkinson spoke as if performing brain surgery was no more remarkable than delivering milk in the morning, and she knew this would appeal to Charles as well.
“Dr. Apter’s research, the studies you are making possible, sir, essentially surgically rewiring the brain for better health, well, it just seems like the greatest use imaginable of any neurosurgeon’s training and skill. Dr. Apter has incredible ideas and . . . with his ability to take what he knows from neurology and psychology and marry it with my surgical expertise, why, I believe we might really find new ways to help people. And that is the most I could ever hope for in a career.”
“In that case, we would love to have you, Dr. Wilkinson.” Charles stood up and walked toward the young man with his hand outstretched. “When can you begin?”
Chapter Eleven
Edward had not been born into a world of privilege. He grew up in the cornfields in Iowa, the third son in a farm family of seven children. From a young age, Edward was interested in the way things worked. He became the farm’s go-to mechanic when equipment broke, as he had the patience and meticulousness to carefully take it apart and put it back together again. As he got older, this interest transferred into the field of medicine. It was a great sacrifice for his family to send him to college, let alone medical school, but it was Edward’s calling. He worked tirelessly to secure his place at Yale—as well as the scholarship funds to ensure he could assume it—and while his family could offer little in the way of financial support, their pride in his accomplishment was limitless.