by Leo Bonanno
“Then you get home and think you’re safe. You think you can get back to normal, but you can’t because you can’t get from the terminal to your friend’s car without being asked to sign copies of the same Pendleton Herald eighteen times! Then the cameras, my God the cameras! The flashes, the blinding flashes!” I realized then that I was screaming and finding it hard to catch my breath. I looked back at Leon, who was now holding his chin in this right hand, still smiling like a young boy listening as his grandfather told him old war stories. “You’re loving this, aren’t you?” I asked.
“Yes, but why aren’t you?” He replied. “What is getting ‘back to normal’ anyway, Reevan? Getting up at six only to fall asleep in your recliner at nine watching PBS with a bowl of cereal in your lap? Then getting up around noon to eat lunch alone, maybe go out and check the mailbox even though you know Joe doesn’t make it here until two but you’re just too bored to sit down another second? Maybe you pick up a book, or take a drive to the corner and pick up some dinner for later, but only for tonight’s dinner because you’ll need something to do tomorrow afternoon between the Magnum, P.I. reruns and the I Love Lucy reruns? All just so you could go to bed at nine and do it all over again the day after. Is that what you’ve lost, Reevan? Is that the ‘normal’ you’re so anxious to get back to?” We sat there, two men staring each other down like two boxers before the opening bell. Leon Kinney was a smart man; a former teacher, like me. We’ve known each other since our teaching days, and he probably already knew what I was going to say, even though I wasn’t the slightest bit sure. Then my eyes closed until only slivers remained. He knew it was coming, so I gave it to him.
“Have you been spying on me?” I blurted out, and he burst into laughter.
“Was I close?” He asked.
“Almost dead on,” I said. “Except some days I prefer the Discovery Channel, and I usually fall asleep halfway through waffles, not cereal.” Leon’s laughter subsided. He took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“Enjoy it while it lasts, Reevan. Your precious routine will be back soon enough. In fact, I’ll bring Niki by tonight to speed the process along.” That made me smile. I had missed my Niki while I was gone. “Don’t forget about dinner next week,” he said as he stood up from his chair.
“I’ll be there,” I said, and the words left a disgusting taste in my mouth. Leon had roped me into being his guest at a retirement dinner for his boss, the Curator at the Pendleton Museum of Science. He conveniently waited until I got into his car at the airport to ask me instead of mentioning it over the phone a week before. I was now stuck having dinner with a bunch of eggheads who were probably all tree-hugging scientist vegetarians, which means I’d probably have to stop for a burger on the way home.
Leon let himself out, and I watched him meander down the walk to his car, ignoring the last lingering reporters and onlookers. He started his car up and in twenty seconds he was out of sight. Knowing Leon, he would call me the second he got home (home being four houses down the street) because he forgot to tell me something he wanted to mention. The dress code for the dinner, or maybe the menu. He was so predictable. You could get sick before then, you know a familiar voice in my head whispered. You’ve been through a lot lately. Plus now you’ve got jetlag, and a headache, and this pain in your arm that just won’t go away. If you don’t feel better by next week, you’ll have no choice but to miss that dinner. I felt a smile come to my lips. Yes, that would work out just fine.
After several minutes of savoring my new plan and enjoying the silence of my empty home, I got up and reached for my duffle bag. The phone rang. My smile widened as I answered it. Good ole predictable Leon Kinney. “Yes, Leon,” I said into the receiver.
“You will not be sick next week, Reevan, and you didn’t know McCune well enough to be overcome with grief, so don’t bother trying that one either.” Then there was a dial tone. I slowly hung the receiver back on its cradle and walked to my bag. As I picked it up and headed towards the stairs, the Little Reevan spoke up once more, and I felt my smile grow.
Finally…back to normal.
The next week would go by very slowly as I found my way back into my usual customs, but all good things take time. Leon dropped off Niki as he promised. I watched them through the peephole as they strolled up the walk towards the front door. Niki stopped every few feet, no doubt smelling everyone that was on the lawn that morning. I eventually got tired of waiting and opened the door. She barreled up the walk towards me, tail wagging in the breeze behind her.
Niki fell back into rhythm almost immediately; bumping the doorknob with her nose when she was ready for her evening constitutional. We walked our usual route up Lincoln Avenue, then crossed the street and walked all the way back to the house, occasionally stopping near fire hydrants or elm trees to leave scented messages to her friends around town. I heard my phone ring as we got closer to the house. Niki and I broke into a trot, for me was really just a brisk walk that ended in a lot of heavy breathing. We got home and Niki went straight for her water bowl. I headed for the phone in time to pick it up and hear the dial tone. “Damn it,” I mumbled. Niki looked up at me. “You could have sprinted ahead and answered it,” I said to her. Her head tilted to the side as if she seriously considered it, then growled a throaty murmur and headed for the sofa in the living room. There we would fall asleep watching Law and Order.
So were our lives that week. The occasional reporter or nosey neighbor came knocking or calling or peering through the windows in the kitchen. I began looking through the peephole before stepping outside for walks. Niki seemed to understand what was going on towards the end of the week; peacefully sitting at the front door with her collar and leash on, watching me watch the yard. Is it safe her big eyes seemed to ask me. I would look back down at her and shoot a smile that got her tail wagging and sweeping the floor behind her. Then her head would tilt to the side again and you’d swear she knew what I was thinking. Is it ever really safe?
Professor Arnold Medley had apparently decided it was time for retirement. He’d been the Curator at the Pendleton Museum of Science for a good decade by then, and he was no spring chicken, no one in town was really surprised. Science is boring enough, but a Museum of Science must be even worse, Little Reevan interjected, and that was the attitude I had on my sleeves when Leon came to pick me up. “At least try to have a good time,” Leon pleaded. His voice had grown increasingly whiney since we left the house. As we walked up the narrow winding path connecting the Museum to the staff parking lot, he seemed to resort to flat out begging.
“I’m just saying I’m not going to fit in at all,” I said shoving my hands in my blazer pockets. “I’m not a science guy like the rest of you. Why did you ask me to come in the first place?”
“You’re the flavor of the month, Reevan. I thought you’d spark some lively dinner conversation. Science or not, you solved a murder. How many people can say that?”
“Several thousand qualified police detectives,” I retorted, but he paid me no mind. We walked a few more feet in silence, and then I finally gave up fighting and accepted the inevitable. “So who else will be here?” Leon’s eyes lit up my interest, feigned though it was.
“Emily Sellars will be there, and Dennis Tr-“
“Emily Sellars?” I interrupted. “Why is she here?” I turned to Leon and met his eyes. His smile grew.
“She’s the head of the Human Sciences Department. Surely you heard.” I searched my memory banks and found nothing.
“When did that happen? Why didn’t you tell me? When did that happen?” Leon chuckled at me.
“That’s why I didn’t tell you,” he said. “Do you think I’d want a crotchety old bastard like you lingering around my office for hours at a time just to get a glimpse of your girlfriend?”
“She’s not my girlfriend, she’s my physician,” I snapped.
“She’s the MD for half the people in this town,” Leon snapped back. “You don’t see anyone else
visiting her every time they cough or sneeze.”
“I thought it was pneumonia.” Leon snickered under his breath. When we arrived at the museum entrance, I checked my reflection in a nearby window. I looked good despite the health problems I had been dreaming up all week.
The museum great room was extravagantly posh; marble floors and large mahogany doors leading off to God knew where. Classical music echoed from somewhere deep inside the belly of the architectural beast. I gazed upwards towards the sound, and my eyes locked on a very large crystal chandelier hanging over the center of the room. Directly beneath it was a fair-sized fountain. It’s top levels quietly overflowing and trickling down to the lower pool.
We walked towards the fountain and sat down on the rim of its basin. I stared back the way we had just come and I seemed to lose myself in the magnitude of the room and the sounds of soothing water drips and spills. “Arnold donated this fountain,” Leon said, dragging me back into reality. “Isn’t it nice?”
“Quite,” I replied. “What do you mean donated?”
“Just what I said. Paid for it out of his own pocket a few months ago. Said he wanted to leave something behind to be remembered by.” I twisted at the waist and gawked at the sheer lavishness of the fountain. When I left teaching, the only thing I wanted people to remember about me was the fact that I was retired. Leon pointed to our left. “That door there leads to Human Sciences,” he explained, pointing to the large dark doors to the left of the main entrance.
“Emily’s department?” I asked, and my voice climbed an octave in excitement.
“That’s right, Lover Boy,” Leon replied, and I jabbed him with my elbow. “She’s the only one here who’s still a volunteer, you know.”
“How generous of her to give up her own time to-”
“Yeah, anyway,” he butted in. “Over there is Animal Sciences,” he said, pointing to the doors to the left of Human Sciences. “Dr. Carol Sykora takes care of that. She’s a former zoo vet, actually. Has some very interesting tales about her safari expeditions. Big animal nut.” He explained.
“I like her already,” I replied.
“On the other side of us is Botanical Sciences,” Leon said, pointing to the right, opposite Animal Sciences. “Botanist Dennis Trago runs the show in there. He’s got some beautiful specimens in there, Reevan. Plants from all over the world.”
“So he’s a florist,” I said sarcastically.
“No, a botanist. There is a difference,” Leon said.
“Yeah, florists have more pizzazz.” Leon laughed despite his attempt not to do so.
“And last is Mechanical Sciences, governed by the genius sitting next to you,” he said, pointing to the doors to the right of the main entrance.
“Mechanical Science, like Volvos and Fords, right?” I teased.
“Hardly,” he said. “The same stuff I used to teach, except on a scale a bit more extravagant than the average school board would allow. The fundamentals are the same; electricity from potatoes, complete battery circuits, etcetera. I like to think the kids like my stuff the best. My department has the most stuff to play with.” Stuff with which to play the voice in my head whispered. I scratched my brow and looked around again.
“So where the hell is this party?” I said finally. “If you think I’m eating in a room surrounded by stuffed animals or a life-size model of my own digestive tract, you’re out of your gourd.”
“Behind us, around the fountain, is Arnold’s office, and the office for his Assistant, Dolores Tilson. There is a boardroom back there too. That’s where everybody probably is. Let’s get going.” Leon was up on his feet, accompanied by the sound of his own joints cracking. He started walking away, but then turned back to me when he realized I wasn’t moving. “Something wrong?”
“You go ahead,” I said. “I’ll meet you there.” I tried to hide the grin that I knew was forming at my lips, and I must have done all right, because Leon nodded and walked on without me. I twisted around and watched him open a door on the wall far behind me. I heard voices emanating from inside, and then the door closed. I turned and looked at the door to the Botanical Sciences Department. “Botanist, florist; same damn thing,” I said aloud.
Raised voices exuded from the boardroom as I neared the door. Before entering, I peered through the crack enough to see Leon standing between a short fat man and a middle-aged woman. “-over my dead body!” The woman screamed and took a step forward, her shoulder bumping into Leon’s outstretched hand.
“Calm down, you two,” Leon pleaded. “Remember why we’re here tonight.”
“Yes, do calm down, Carol,” the fat man said sarcastically. “At your age, you can’t risk some kind of cardiac episode.”
“I wouldn’t talk about cardiac episodes if I were you, tubby!” The woman shouted back. I started laughing. My hand brushed the door as I raised it to cover my mouth. It creaked ever so quietly, but it cut through the room like a guillotine. The shouting stopped, and the three heads all turned to face me.
I opened the door and strolled in, trying to act as if I hadn’t heard anything at all. “Oh, here’s the party,” I said in surprise. “”Heard you three laughing all the way out there,” I thumbed over my shoulder. “Don’t tell me this is an open bar occasion.”
“Reevan!” Leon shouted back with smile. “Reevan, come in, come in.” Leon walked around the table to greet me. Carol pulled at the hips of her dress to pull out the wrinkles her fit of rage no doubt caused. The fat man stood smiling with his hands in his pockets. “Reevan, this is Carol Sykora, head of-“
“-Animal Sciences,” I interjected. “Yes, Leon has told me so much about you, Dr. Sykora, isn’t it?” She smiled, and walked casually around the table towards me. The black dress she had was patterned with red flowers, and was quite becoming. She must have caught me staring because when my eyes met hers, a smile exploded onto her face.
“Please, it’s Carol,” she said in a sweet voice, very unlike the one I heard scream a few moments earlier. “It’s so nice to finally meet you. Leon told us all about you and your recent celebrity. So glad you could make it.”
“And this is Dennis Trago,” Leon said, opening his hand toward the obese man in the corner.
“Oh yes,” I said, “the florist. A pleasure, sir.” I offered my outstretched right hand. His chubby right hand came out of his pocket and grasped mine. Behind me, I could hear Carol snickering. Dennis’ chubby face turned an embarrassed shade of red.
“The pleasure is mine,” he replied, “though actually, I’m a Botanist.”
“Close enough,” Carol blurted out, and started to laugh.
“Well, it looks like the party has started without us,” a man’s voice said from behind me. I turned back to the door to see an older man and two women standing in the doorway. “Mr. Hunt, isn’t it?” The man asked. “Yes, it is you. I recognize you from your picture. I can’t tell you how glad I am that you could come tonight. I’m Arnold Medley.” I shook the man’s hand as I stared into the white glare of his bifocals. He was shorter than me, but not by much. Balding severely, but not entirely; his gray mustache matched the hair still left above both ears.
“Thank you for having me,” I replied. “Congratulations on your retirement.”
“Thank you, thank you,” he said as he slowly came in and headed for a seat at the end of the table. As if instinctively, Dennis waddled over to his boss and pulled out his chair. After Arnold sat, Dennis stood to his right, hands clasped in front of his gut. “That there is Dolores, my Administrative Assistant.” Dolores stepped into the room and shook my hand. A short, but attractive woman with short blond hair, Dolores gazed into my eyes threw her own pair of spectacles.
Probably in her mid-40’s, Dolores was clearly the youngest person in the room. Her bubbly smile and perky tone set her apart from the rest of the walking cadavers that surrounded me. “I feel like I should ask for your autograph,” she said with a giggle. “We’ve heard so much about you.”
&nbs
p; “From the papers, or from Leon?” I asked.
“Well, both, and then from Emily, of course,” she said, nodding in her direction. Still in the doorway, like a shy little girl, stood Emily Sellars. I barely recognized her at first in a stunning blue dress, awkwardly clutching a matching sky blue purse. It was a big change from her usual lab coat, polo shirt and slacks ensemble. I stepped towards her and spoke, softly.
“Only good things, I hope.”
“Only the best,” she replied. Since my own entrance into the room, I had made a conscious effort to keep my left hand behind my back. Then, as I faced Emily in the doorway with my back to the others, I heard a faint whimper.
“Is that one of my orchids?” A voice said. I turned around, now clutching the white flower in front of me. I looked at it, an exquisite orchid with six vibrant petals, and then looked at the fat man across the room. His hands were no longer clasped in front of him but on his large hips, like a mother disappointed in her naughty child. Emily came into the room and stood at my right. I looked at her, then back at the flower, then back at Dennis Trago once more.
“Well, I guess it is. I got it in the gift shop just outside.” Carol started snickering again, and this time, she wasn’t alone. Arnold brought his hand up to his mouth to hide the smile forming on his lips. Even Leon turned to face the wall.
“That isn’t a gift shop, that’s the Botanical Garden,” the paunchy man blubbered at me. “And that’s a very rare species of orchid!”
“Even rarer now,” Carol mumbled. Arnold and Leon started fidgeting with laughter.
“If it’s so rare, you should really keep the door to that garden of yours locked.”
“But it was loc-“