One listing there caught her eye. "Oneironaut. No experience needed." When she read the details of the listing, she learned that the job was in the Psychology department and that an "Oneironaut" was the name of a special lab assistant into the field of Dreams and Dreaming. She took a reply card from the pegboard, which told her where to apply for the job.
On Sunday nights the dining hall was closed. Most students ventured into town for a restaurant meal, either at Tony's Pizzeria, Ahmed's Emporium, or Slinky's Subs. Unexpectedly, Nancy invited her to walk down to Ira's the Jewish deli further down University Boulevard, near the intersection of Main Street. "You've got to try the Lox," Nancy said, when they stepped inside.
Linda ordered the Tuna bagel instead. As they ate, she told her about the "Oneironaut" job.
"How much does the job pay?" Nancy asked.
"It said fifty dollars per week."
"For how many hours of work, though?"
"Two nights." At that moment Linda realized that the listing had been fairly vague about the exact nature of the job and the exact hours required.
"But how many hours, though?" Nancy went on, between bites of a bagel with the thin orange strips of Lox adorning it. "Four hours is one thing, eight or twelve hours is another. If you're working a lot of hours, then obviously fifty dollars is going to break down to fewer dollars per hour. And you'd be working for cheap."
"Have you ever held a job?"
Nancy considered the question thoughtfully, shrugged and said "Sure. Babysitting. I charged three dollars per hour."
"And they paid that?" The last time Linda took a babysitting job, when she was fifteen, she only got one dollar per hour.
"I'm worth it," she said, smiling smugly. "This attorney and his wife, with an infant and a three-year-old paid even more. You just have to be smart, and know what you're doing."
Linda sighed. "Well, fifty dollars for two nights seems pretty good to me."
Nancy shrugged. "Suit yourself. I hope they don't put your head in a restraint and force your eyelids open, like they did to that guy in A Clockwork Orange."
She would find out the next day.
Between her Statistics and her Advanced Composition classes, she headed over to the long, gray concrete building called Farnsworth Hall. Last year, when she attended orientation, the chirpy tour guide lady said that it was the second largest university campus building in the state of Illinois. To Linda, it just looked like a giant aircraft carrier. Inside, the walls and all of the chrome-edged modern couches and chairs looked sterile. The Psychology department had situated its offices there. If anyone ever came for counseling, Linda supposed, they might have felt like a lab rat in a skinner maze.