Calamity

by Gail McCormick

  “Poor little things!”

  “Climate change has become a problem for all kinds of animals but especially for endangered species.”

  “There you go again, professor.”

  “Right. Anyhow, while I was there someone brought me a baby pika. It had been attacked by a predator. One of its hind legs was half torn off. Amazingly enough, when I got it to a local vet, he was able to amputate part of that leg and save it. Needless to say, the pika can’t get around very well. Couldn’t possibly be returned to the wild, same as your Macaw. So rather than have the vet put it to sleep, I brought it home. A bit of a challenge to take care of, since pikas can’t tolerate temperatures over 78 degrees. So far he’s doing pretty well with me. I named him Survivor.”

  “Fitting name.” She went over and picked up the bird cage and opened and then reclosed its latched door. “She should be able to fit through this. It really is beautiful, and she does need it, so thanks. Come on, you need to meet Perky and show her the new cage.”

  They went upstairs, and she led him into her bedroom. The walls were seafoam green, the curtains a filmy white fabric that hung to the floor. With the tall window open, they fluttered in the breeze. Framed watercolors on the walls were mostly garden scenes with one showing a bee perched on a pink flower. There was a painted dresser, matching bedside tables and a king size bed covered with a quilt made of red and green fabric scraps shaped like apples. Perky’s cage was situated on one of the bedside tables.

  “I like to keep her next to me. I think maybe it makes her feel safe. Makes me feel better anyhow.” She went over to the window. “I forgot to shut this one when I got up. Even with the a/c on it’s hotter than blue blazes in here.”

  “We’ve closing in on yet another heat record,” Kyle observed as he studied the bird. “She’s almost as lovely as you are. Isn’t that lavender I smell?” he asked as he removed the yellow ribbon from the cage and handed it to Camellia.

  “It’s supposed to be soothing, so I have sachets in the night table drawers. Don’t know if it helps Perky, but it’s worth a try.”

  He looked down at the bed. “Lots of room for company, I see.”

  “Nope, no way. I like to roll around. By myself. Period.” She took the bird out of the cage. “Want to see if she’ll sit on your shoulder?”

  “Sure.” He took Perky from Camellia and positioned it on his right shoulder. The bird settled down and made clucking sounds. “Seems okay with me. Smart bird. No boyfriends?”

  “I didn’t say that. Just none that have mattered and definitely none that have slept here.” She frowned at the bed. And he was definitely not going to sleep there either.

  “Sure you don’t want help learning about methane?”

  “Give it a rest. And as I said, absolutely no more presents.” Camellia moved the old birdcage and put the new one in its place. She took the bird from Kyle, gently placed it in its new cage and latched the door. “I don’t know why I do that. She probably wouldn’t be able to get out even if I left it open. Poor thing.” They returned to the living room. Her landline rang.

  “This might be important.” she said as she picked up the phone. “The only people who have this number are close friends and family.”

  The same male who had threatened her before said, “You haven’t paid attention, bitch. You should have been sleeping with me, not that Hardin guy. He’s got you putting out fake news. Climate change is a hoax. The doll, the note and garbage were fair warning.”

  She hung up frowning.

  “Something wrong?”

  “Oh, just another crank call. No idea how he got my number.”

  “Have you been reporting them?”

  “Mostly. I’ve done that so many times, I couldn’t count them all. It doesn’t get me anywhere, so I don’t always bother anymore.” She didn’t want him to push her about it which she was sure would be the case. So she said, “To the question of the day, it’s really hard to know what to tell the public about all this. We wouldn’t want to scare people unnecessarily and cause panic, but I do have to say something.”

  “Well, you can certainly let them know he’s in intensive care and being helped by the best medical team in the nation, and that you’ll update his condition as soon as you have more information.”

  Camellia went over to him and punched his arm playfully.

  “You’re too damned reasonable. Wouldn’t I just like to tell people what a blasted fool he was to grab that bone! Gonna have to bite my tongue in half not to spit that out. Dad blasted shame I have to mind my P’s and Q’s. Besides, my boss is already unhappy about the nasty emails. And I’ve been dealing with ugly reactions too.” She didn’t tell him about the calls, the note, the rag doll, garbage or the attack. “Anyhow, right now I’ve got to get ready to head to NIP, so you’ve got to get out of here. Skedaddle.”

  She pushed him from behind toward the door.

  He pushed back before she opened the door. “Then how would you like to attend a seminar dealing with methane at the Earth Institute? It’s tomorrow afternoon so it won’t conflict with the news.”

  “I’ll think about it. Now scat!” With that she pushed him all the way out the door and shut it behind him, locked and bolted it.

  What was he going to give her next? She was sure it would be something she couldn’t resist. She was equally sure she would continue to resist him, if not his gifts.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  SAME EVENING

  NIP ANCHOR DESK

  “I HAVE BREAKING NEWS,” Camellia reported from the anchor desk. She was wearing the blouse that Kyle buttoned and a fist-sized pair of butterfly shaped earrings.

  “You might have been watching when Senator Trotford collapsed while I was interviewing him. He’s now in intensive care. The doctors haven’t been able to determine what the problem is, but they’ve promised to let us know as soon as they figure it out. I will, of course, keep you up to date. And now to turn to another subject, the wildfires in Arizona. Let’s hear from our reporter, William Jackson, on the scene.”

  The screen split showed Camellia on one side and William on the other.

  “What’s it like out there now, Bill?” she asked.

  The reporter wore the jacket with its NIP logo. “The fires have spread and remain out of control. They’re barely five percent contained. These are already the worst fires ever recorded here. Conditions are horrific. You can see how bad it is.” Massive flames rose in the hills behind him. “And the fire season has a considerable way to go.”

  The screen zeroed in on the flames.

  “Thanks, Bill. We’ll check in with you again later.”

  The screen filled with Camellia again. “Some are saying global warming is causing the drought and intense heat that make these fires horrendous. Others say that’s preposterous. It’s true that the current heat wave is breaking records all over the place. There are reports of heat-related deaths here and in Europe where they’re having an even harder time dealing with the heat than we are. India and parts of the Middle East are also breaking records. I’ll keep you posted on these stories too.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  NEXT DAY

  CLASSROOM AND OFFICE

  COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY

  CAMELLIA WORE DARK SUNGLASSES WITH OUTSIZED FRAMES AND A LARGE FLOPPY STRAW HAT THAT COVERED MOST OF THE HAIR she’d crammed under it. Her tailored suit was light gray.

  When she entered the crowded room, Kyle was talking to a group of mostly female students. A pretty redhead with freckles sprinkled on her cheeks stood close to him and handed him something that appeared to be a t-shirt. The one he wore read METHANE = MAYHEM. “Thanks, Aileen,” he said as he accepted the t-shirt and folded it over his arm.

  It was a large room with a full screen on the wall behind a podium. Students, a couple of professors, and a few other guests were beginning to take their place in the rows of seats facing the screen. A student in the back row wo
re a t-shirt fronted with THERE ARE NO JOBS, and below that ON A DEAD PLANET.

  “You’ll have to excuse me,” Kyle said to the students surrounding him. He went to Camellia and took her by the arm, leading her to a seat at the front of the room, opposite the podium. I’m glad you could make it. What’s with the get up?”

  “People recognize me too easily, and it can be a problem. Autograph seekers, hangers on, fans, people who don’t like what I say, you name it. I deal with it.”

  “Well, apart from that goofy hat, you look fine to me.” He flicked back the side that was flopping over one eye and let his fingers move down through her hair to touch her ear below the edge of the hat.

  “Don’t do that!” she said, backing off and plunking herself down on a chair.

  “Rattled you, did I?” he observed.

  She wrenched the hat down so far that it covered half of her face. “Certainly not.”

  He smiled, knowing perfectly well that he had indeed rattled her. “I’ll catch up with you when we’re finished.”

  Aileen sat down next to Camellia. Looking her over, she realized that the freckles made her seem younger, but she was probably actually in her late twenties or early thirties.

  Kyle went up to the podium, put the t-shirt on top of it and tapped the mike. “Everyone hear ok?” The group had settled into seats. They nodded. “Ok, let’s get started. I have a question for you. I’m going to give you three choices. Who thinks the biggest source of methane emissions is from farm animals? Stinky Vermont cows, for instance.”

  About 25% of the crowd raised its hand. Not Camellia.

  “And who thinks the largest source would be landfills and waste? Garbage mostly.”

  35% of the crowd chose this option.

  “And who believes the largest source comes from the production, distribution and combustion of fossil fuels?”

  Those remaining, including Camellia, raised their hands.

  “Not bad. The third answer scores. Coal, petroleum, natural gas and other fossil fuels create 33% of human derived methane emissions. Transportation is our largest source of greenhouse gas emissions in general. Consider that next time you drive your car or turn up the heat. Though of course you students only ride bikes and have each other so you’re hot enough, right?” Some laughed. “There are natural sources of methane, but we humans are the biggest problem. The other two come next.”

  He glanced at a couple of students seated near the back of the room. “And those of you on your phones rather than paying attention will add to emissions when you have to recharge them.” He was smiling, but they got the point. The guilty culprits immediately turned their phones off and sat up straight.

  “Anyone have a thought about solutions?” Kyle asked.

  “I’m from Vermont,” a student said with obvious pride. “Some farmers are using anaerobic digesters to generate heat and electricity. And get this, three percent of seaweed added to cattle diet can reduce methane emissions by as much as 80%.”

  “Yeah,” another chipped in, “Australian scientists found that a pink-colored algae can reduce cows’ methane by close to 99%.”

  “Maybe we should all be eating seaweed,” Kyle observed. “Actually, it’s a good source of iron. And digested manure can be used as a fertilizer which saves money as well as reduces emissions,” he added. “hat about landfills?”

  “Oh, that’s easy,” another student chipped in eagerly. “In Massachusetts we’re already tapping methane from dumps to create energy.”

  “Right. Let’s move on.” He’d noticed a co-ed holding up her cellphone to take his picture and caught her eye. She turned her phone off. “Other man-made causes of methane emissions?”

  An Asian student responded immediately. “Rice paddies. Reducing or interrupting the flooding required to grow rice would help.”

  “That’s true. It’s complicated but doable. Anyone else?”

  “Biofuels,” an African student said. “People where I come from still use charcoal, agricultural waste and even animal dung for cooking and heating, sometimes for lighting.”

  “I know,” Kyle said. “Solar cookers are one of the possible solutions. Any other sources of methane?”

  There was no response for a minute. Camellia finally said, “Couldn’t you say that methane released from thawing permafrost is manmade? After all, it’s our fossil fuel emissions that are causing the increased thawing.”

  He nodded and smiled at her. “That would be a fair assessment. Thanks. You might have heard about my trip to Siberia. We found the permafrost might be headed toward irreversible thawing. That could be a disaster. Most of you in this audience are young enough to be affected. With accelerated warming, even the rest of us might live to experience what could wind up as the sixth major die off of life on earth. Pessimism stinks, but if we don’t face the facts, not fake or so-called alternative facts, that could be the outlook. We need to take action now, right now. As you can see, there are things we can do. Today. This minute, well, not until you leave the room,” he added to try to lighten up his dire warning.

  There was applause from virtually everyone, including Camellia.

  Students took notes while Kyle continued to speak. Summing up, he said, “In fact the percent of methane emissions from each sector depends on which organization is doing the measuring, but regardless, any emissions are important, and all the sectors I mentioned are problematic.” He picked up the papers and t-shirt he’d placed on the podium and headed around it toward Camellia. Before he could reach her, Aileen got to her feet and blocked his way. Then he was swamped by more students.

  Camellia stood up. In the process, her hat fell off, and her hair came loose. The student sitting next to her exclaimed, “You’re Camellia Knight, aren’t you? Gosh, I watch your show. I don’t like most of what people say on NIP, but you’re the best. Great how you stand up to the deniers.”

  Other students, mostly male, hearing this, crowded around Camellia. Some held out notebooks for her to autograph. One asked if he could come to the studio and watch her program.

  A number of mostly female students were still gathered around Kyle. Aileen placed her hand on his wrist. He removed it gently and went over to Camellia who had moved away and was headed toward the door. “Just added to your devoted fans, I see.”

  She shoved her hat back on her head. “Guess we both have our followers.” She pointed to the t-shirt he was carrying. “Another one?”

  “My students keep creating them for me. I’ve heard a rumor that someone in the art department is using a silk screen to make them look professional.”

  “Well, it’s obvious I was right about your female students who would love to learn a lot more about methane outside of class. The redhead looked older than most of them.”

  “Working on her doctorate,” he said.

  She cocked her head to one side. “Then a real possibility for you. From the look on her face, I’d guess the t-shirt she gave you said LOVE MY PROF.”

  It said “SCIENCE IS TRUTH, LIKE IT OR NOT,” he replied. “I’m her mentor. Her dissertation is about the ongoing attacks on science and scientists. Are you trying to tell me I should take up with Aileen or that you’re not keen on the idea?”

  She ignored his question. “You might have suggested to your students that they could save the energy it takes to heat water by taking showers together.”

  “I suspect the Dean would have a problem with that. But sounds good to me under other circumstances. And,” he added pointedly, “Definitely not happening with Aileen.”

  She ignored that too. “Well, thanks for the invite. I could have added farm animals are 27% of emissions and another 16% comes from landfills and waste. It took me until midnight to check that out. Thanks a lot for keeping me from my beauty sleep. My fans would hate you if they knew that.” She jammed her hat down harder on her head. “But I learned enough so I bet I could tell you a thing or two. For instance, most methane emissions from ou
r oil and gas industry come from leaks, equipment malfunctions and other so-called operating conditions.” She paused to take a breath. “And here’s one more thing. The expansion of fracking since 2009 has made it the single largest source of methane pollution globally.” With that she left the room.

  He smiled and followed her out. “I have something for you in my office,” he said as he caught up. “It’s down the hall.”

  “I don’t have much time.”

  “Won’t take long.”

  When they entered the room, Camellia looked around and laughed.

  “What?”

  “I should give you my cleaning company’s contact information,” she said as she headed over to the world map. She picked up the airplane with the bent nose, smoothed it out and sailed it straight into the trash can. Looking at the map, she pointed to the red dots. “Those are the worst areas of drought?”

  Kyle came over and stood next to her. “Yes.” He reached around her to take out an orange dot on Australia and replace it with a red one. The drought there is now the worst in 800 years.”

  Camellia nodded. “So dry the trees are bribing the dogs.”

  He laughed. “This hat is ridiculous. I can’t see you.” He reached up to lift it off her head. “Your hair is tangled up.” He ran his fingers carefully through the strands to straighten them out. I am not reacting this time, she told herself so she grit her teeth and shut her eyes.

  “I love the way your hair feels,” he said softly. He ran his other hand down her cheek and rested it under her chin. “And your perfect skin,” he added.

  She opened her eyes and found she had moved closer to him rather than farther away which would have been impossible anyhow since her back was already against the wall. Hah! So much for self-control she thought.

  As he spoke, there was a tap on the door frame, and Aileen entered the room. “I wanted to ask you….” She stopped when she saw Camellia and Kyle standing close together with the fingers on his right hand still entwined in her hair and his left hand now sliding around her waist. He was about to pull her closer and kiss her, and Camellia knew it. She hadn’t figured out what she would do about that and was relieved to be interrupted.