The Final Chapter

Laura Dell leaned towards the car window as her eyes tried to keep up with the moving and sweeping specks like a page of connect-the-dots that refused to keep still. Her view was interrupted by Weldon’s face beaming through the other side of the glass.

Opening the car door he said, “Up you go” while taking both of her hands and supporting her as she stepped onto the dimpled pavement.

Eddie walked around to the front of the car and stood on the curb with the back of his flannel jacket facing Laura Dell. She stepped up with Weldon as they listened to the sparrows’ chorus cascading down from the branches over head. The sound, circling and looping around her, seemed to match the timing of the leaves twisting off the trees when Eddie turned to face her.

She leaned to Eddie and said, “Where did they come from?”

“Come over here, and I’ll show you” he said pointing through the gravestones that stood slanted in uneven rows like books forgotten on the top shelf in a library. She simply nodded and felt Weldon rub her back in agreement. Crinkled sunburnt leaves broke beneath their feet as they followed Eddie through the bends and dips of the cemetery grounds. For so many years this was an image she tried to peel from her mind like wallpaper refusing to be moved from its rightful place.

* * *

Laura Dell watched as Eddie came to face two gravestones standing side by side beneath an aged and sprawling white oak. He stooped down and brushed the few leaves that landed on top of the smooth granite. She walked up to gravestone and traced her fingers over the engraved name of the friend she left here long ago.

Eddie stood and wiped his creased hands against his pants as he said, “Ms. Laura do you remember the ornithological society that Dr. Walters worked with?”

“The same that helped with the nets, right?” she asked and rubbed her hand across the new curve of her stomach.

“Yes Ms. Laura, the one in the same. About a year after you left they made an interesting discovery concerning their flight patterns.”

“It appears they have the idea of flight down packed,” she said and lifted her eyes to find several fluttering and chirping as if to answer Eddie’s unspoken role call.

He chuckled and said, “Yes well, you’re right about the flying but it’s the destination that’s the problem. The society realized that something had changed in a migratory pattern that they track across the U.S. Evidently, a subspecies of Savannah Sparrow normally fly to your part of the country for the winter and pass through Chicago along the way. As I understand it, these Savannah Sparrows decided to cut their trip short,” he said pointing to the birds diving in and out of the crisscrossed branches.

“But how do you know about all of this?” she said.

“They called me when they realized their subspecies,” said Eddie as his gaze shifted downward.

Laura Dell followed his eyes to her hands resting on Dr. Walter’s name and waited for Eddie to continue.

“The group made the connection that the subspecies who halted their migration matched the sparrow caught in our museum. Basically what they deduced was that the Savannah Sparrows sent out a scout and when he didn’t come back they assumed this was the place to roost.”

“But why here? Why this spot?”

Eddie’s shoulders eased up and down like an old seesaw saying, “They’re not sure, but one thing they do know is this,” and raised his hand to direct their attention to various crevices made by the branches that cradled bundles of twigs and dirt. Laura Dell found herself counting over a dozen different clusters that moments before went unnoticed.

“A few began to nest here, right after Herbert’s passing, and their numbers have grown ever since,” he said while spreading his arms over the gravestones as if to include the presence of those that were no longer there.

The tears hiding beneath her eyes rose like a slow tide ebbing against the shore but this time it was different. Since Herbert’s funeral she fought against the flood within her by stacking sandbags around her memories. Stack after stack all sought to protect herself from the fear that gripped her as soon as she saw her father’s knotted car slammed against the slick pavement. The same fear that tightened its vice around her when she touched the sheets wrinkled around Herbert’s still frame. After returning to Siloam, she spent many nights scouring through Herbert’s journals when she came to a pressed page addressed to her. Rubbing down its bent creases she breathed in feeling the weight sink into her chest as began to read:

To The Dear Ms. Laura Dell,

“Live life with me,” these are the words I said to you after I revealed my struggle with cancer. From that moment on you did exactly that Ms. Dell. Our night at the theater, the Southern food we shared, and many others spent in your company have been moments my mind that continue to hold me captive. They lingered on because they spoke of only one thing: Taking life and making it, every experience, every laugh, one worth remembering. I know there was a time when I asked after your father. This is something we never spoke of, but your silence on the topic lead me to believe that he was someone you lost in your life. It might not be within my place to say anything but, being that I am an old fossil after all, you’ll have to forgive my lack of inhibition. I know that loss is something that can freeze your life like Sue suspended in the same position for millions of years beneath the dirt and limestone. This is not what I, or your father, would ever wish for you; for fear to keep you paralyzed in a position in which you do not deserve to be. Now is the time that I ask one more thing of you and it is a request that I beg you will honor.

Live life, Laura Dell.

Ms. Dell, within you what may seem like a tiny life lives an impressive lineage and an impressive story to be told. Your story, I am sure, will be worth remembering.

- Herbert

From there the phrase etched in black ink repeated throughout the years like the patter of wings in the white oak that stretch into the sky. Watching the birds call to one another, Laura Dell looked toward her sneakers that she could no longer see. With the twins coming along her doctor advised that she resist her habit of running during the final stage of the pregnancy. Even with the doctors advice, she still felt the urge to pull her sneakers over the feet she could not reach. Yet, upon the greeting of these sparrows, Laura Dell knew what was different. These sparrows did something she, until that moment, was afraid to do.

Turning to Eddie with Weldon at her side, she murmured, “Herbert’s sparrow stayed.”

“Yes Ms. Laura, they all stayed.”

* * *

Weldon placed his hand on her shoulder and said, “Here,” handing her four open sunflowers. Laura Dell was still astounded by her husband’s ability to remember the things she forgot as if he was able to see the scribbled to-do list that scrolled through her thoughts. He helped her bend down to place two on each of the gravestones. The engraving on the stone reminded her of the gold lettering embossed on each of Herbert’s journals. Page after page, she read stories of Malynne, disasters on dig sites, and diving expeditions revealing a side of Herbert she could only imagine. While she turned the pages, Laura Dell let his words soak until she felt like a sopping dish rag saturated with sentences and paragraphs.

One afternoon her mother walked onto the porch and sat in the swing next Laura Dell. “Still reading?” her mother said while the fading sunlight rested against her back. Laura Dell only nodded and her mother continued, “I know you’ve been reading a lot.” She hesitated for a moment then added, “You should write. Just think about it.” Something clicked inside Laura Dell and she began to add to the journals. Her handwriting and stories mixing in with Herbert’s postcards and photographs to create a collage of splotched and inked memories. Once the journals were filled, Laura Dell sat leafing through the pages when she turned again to the letter addressed to her. Passing over his words as if in slow motion Laura Dell knew why she had to write. Her mother, like Herbert, knew she had a story worth telling. Now, pressing her hand against the cold granite, she whispered, “I hope you liked my story,” and allowed Weldon to help her stand.

“Thank you for bringing me here Eddie,” she said.

“Ms. Dell, thank you and your mighty fine husband,” he said and and patted Weldon’s shoulder in recognition.

“Thank you sir,” said Weldon while he looped his arm around Laura Dell’s.

“If you’re ready Ms. Dell, we better head back,” replied Eddie.

“Of course,” said Laura Dell and they turned to face the path on which they came. She cradled her arms under her round stomach while they walked and thought of the newness that was about to enter their lives. Laura Dell imagined their brown curls bouncing beneath baseball caps as they ran around the wet grass of their backyard in Alabama. Watching the red caps run around her mind, she remembered the little boy at the museum from her first weeks in Chicago. The memory was hazy like the fog that seeped in around their porch on summer mornings, but she could still see the glint of hope that bounced from his bright hazel eyes. She knew the same look would be reflected in the eyes of her own children as the gray parking lot came into view.

They approached the car when Weldon said with surprise, “Laura, look!” All of the sparrows took off from their perches and flew as one. Their small frames merged and blotted against the fading light while bobbing between the tops of the waving trees. The beaming sun made the sparrows seem as if they were small flickering flames against the leaves surrounding them. The cloud of sparrows rose into the sky and faded against the white wisps as their song echoed off the leaves below.

Looking at the sky melting from an aqua to golden rust, Laura Dell thought of Herbert’s letter and the words he gave as his last. Her life. The life of her husband. The lives of her children. Each of them, she knew, were all worth living.

* * *

His Eye is on the Sparrow

JW stood in the door way as Laura Dell packed her suitcase. He told her that he was taking her home, but nothing felt like home anymore. Laura Dell thought she had been doing just fine the last couple of months, she was a lot less energetic, and quiet these days. When her mother found out she had forgotten to pay her rent more than once, JW flew up. Before he knocked on the door she was fuming with a speech she had written for her brother and mother. Get out of MY sandbox! she yelled in her head as if they were children again. But when she opened the door to see her brother, she lost all her steam.

Suddenly she realized that she hadn’t cleaned the apartment. Clothes needing to be washed were lying around, the croutons she had eaten for dinner sat by the TV remote, she remembered the two times she forgot to pay rent and begged the landlord not to kick her out. Looking into his eyes she realized she had forgotten to call him for five months. Time to Laura Dell had become a small group of snails trying to make it across the marble floor at the museum. She had the same recurring dream in which she rode on top of them like a cow-girl, supposed to be their leader. But all she did was jump down from one snail and run to another. She ran from snail to snail trying to make them go faster. But they never did. When the day had been really tough, the snails always led her to a blurring dark hole. It was like standing on the edge of one of Salvador Dali’s strange paintings; things were melting everywhere. In her dream, she had melted into the black dirt and watched the emptiness within her spread from her; there was enough to wrap around the earth twice.

She melted into the folds of JW’s button-up. JW wrapped her up in his arms and she cried for the first time since the funeral. He was there to take her home.

* * *

Two months after Laura Dell had been home, her mother mentioned that her Grandparents house was up for sale once more. It had been two months since she left Chicago. She went over that day and put in her offer with the money she had earned in Chicago, finally feeling like she was doing something right. The light poured through the southern sky on late afternoons when she sat on her Grandmothers back porch swing.

Laura Dell pulled Herbert’s journal close to her on her Grandmother’s porch swing. She had 30 minutes to be at dinner at her mother place. Looking back on it, Laura Dell always marveled at how little she expected to find her husband that night.

* * * * * * * * * *

Laura Dell stepped back into the Field Museum of Natural History for the first time in eleven years. She laid eyes on Sue and shivered from the outside wind. The cold was something she had never managed to acclimate herself too and her diamond ring and wedding band slipped slightly to the left as the chill settled into her petite fingers feeling heavy on her contracted skin. Weldon, put his arm around her waste, “She’s a beauty, Laura.”

His flannel shirt felt like tiny fur-beings dancing lightly against her shoulder. And she looped her hand around his waist, making herself small in the crevice beneath his arm. “I’d like to think that if I were a dinosaur with Sue, that we would be good friends.” Weldon nodded his head in approval. She looked up at him, “Our hips would certainly match up these days.”

Glancing at her swollen belly Weldon said, “Yeah, but those little guys wouldn’t have any room to grow in nine months if you didn’t put on some kind of weight, little mama.” He kissed her forehead; Joy flowed between them like a river of one soul flowing back and forth, back and forth between steady beacons.

He led her over to the bench, encouraging her to rest her feet. Laura Dell giggled a little because she was just at the end of her first trimester, and the pregnancy really had not been that bad so far, but Weldon was so excited about finding out they were having twin boys that he had asked her if she needed to rest at least six or seven times within the walk to the museum. Laura Dell was pretty sure that what he really wanted to do was continually say out loud, “If you need to rest, we can rest. It’s for the twins sake really, dear. You know, the twins that are hanging out with you these days.” Every time Laura Dell would decline, laughing. But she cherished the way that Weldon put his hands up in the air in defeat, then slid them casually in his pockets, and grin like a little boy surprised with the two brand new toys of the century.

But before she sat down, the sun-light that had so often brightened her mornings in Chicago, caught a bronze plate on the bench.

In Loving Memory of Dr. Herbert L. Walters

A believer in insignificance:

for though the sparrow lives a tiny life,

there is hidden within him

an impressive lineage,

and an impressive story to be told.

Weldon held Laura Dell tighter and let the silence create a sanctuary for them.

Weldon noticed things like the way she woke up in the mornings. It was little, but every morning she would tilt her head to the right just a little before she fully woke up. Her hair would gently move across her face. She would rather sit on the porch swing at their house than anything in the world and if she could she would sleep out there. She liked to drink scotch on the rocks. And when she knew that Weldon was looking at her, she’d look at him in a way that made him want to chase her for the rest of his life.

In reality, it had been a difficult chase to begin with, but Weldon always said that it was worth waiting for. Laura Dell got off the plane with JW from Herbert Walters funeral and stepped into a familiar southern town, and instantly regretted her return to Alabama. She bought a pair of sneakers. She thought she could outrun death.

John William soon married after Laura Dell came home with him. With just Laura Dell and her mother in the house together, things got worse. Each time her mother would try and talk about the funeral, or the end of anything really, Laura Dell would shut her down. Finally, her mother asked Weldon Carter, a southern gentleman, to come over for dinner. It was a pitiful reenactment of Tennesee’s, The Glass Menagerie. Their first meeting, according to Laura Dell, was painfully awkward, but total bliss in Weldon’s mind. She had been polite and told him she wasn’t interested several times, but he couldn’t get her off his mind. He caught her singing one-day when he stopped by to help her mother fix the coffee pot again. That day he bought her a guitar. He didn’t even know if she knew how to play the guitar, but he couldn’t imagine a voice like hers going without the beauty of an instrument. He laid it on their front porch like a gift from heaven.

But Laura Dell didn’t think it was heavenly, and she let him know it. If he hadn’t caught the handle, the whole thing would have gone over the railing. He looked at Laura staring at Sue. She had come so far. She had talked about this place more that she talked about anything in her life and he had finally talked her into taking a trip back to the museum.

As he gazed with her to the giant dinosaur, he wished more than anything that Herbert was looking down on them. She had talked with Weldon about their outings, and morning walks. So Weldon imagined that if Herbert were there, he would point out to Herbert the way she leaned into his shoulder, and linked her arm in his. He knew Herbert would be proud, maybe even a little jealous.

The truth was that after Weldon proved that he wasn’t going to leave her, she let him into her life. He remembered the day that she fell for him. She handed him a box of journals before she went for a run and errands for the day. He spent the day wading between old air force photographs and Laura Dell’s own journals.

“Laura Dell,” said a voice from behind. “You are late, as usual.”

“And you have a shoe up your ass, as usual. Pleasure to see you Dr. Feinman.” Laura Dell stood to shake his hand as Weldon laughed beneath his breath. She finally said the thing she wanted to say, in the moment she wished to say it. Gumption, JW thought. Weldon was proud. It reminded him of a date they had in Atlanta. They had been dating for almost a year when they went to an Art Museum in Atlanta. Laura Dell didn’t drink much, but after dinner she and Weldon decided to go to out some place downtown. Waling up to the bar, he had expected to order two southern pecans but Laura Dell beat him to it, “Scotch on the rocks, please.” It was the best thing he had heard in a long while, particularly as he watched her figure take up about as much room on the bar as a packet of sweet-and-low. She was the kind of girl that drank scotch on the rocks in heels. This was the girl he married.

Laura Dell hadn’t taken Feinman’s job offer after the internship, but while she stayed in Chicago for a while after Herbert died, she had gotten the nerve to talk things over with him. After that, the relationship had been calmer, and more comedic. Laura Dell visited the Museum a couple times when she was having a particularly good day and would often find herself catching up with Dr. Feinman and the latest “crisis” that he had to deal with. She thought she’d never say it, but as she sat on the plane home to Alabama, she kind of missed Feinman’s straight-shooter talk.

“Dr. Feinman, this is my husband Weldon.” As Weldon and Dr. Feinman shook hands, a man appeared around the corner and started towards them.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the little one from Alabama. The south winds haven’t blown this way in a long while Ms. Dell.” Laura Dell turned to meet an aged Eddie. She gave him a big hug and Weldon watched as she fought tears. Eddie gave Weldon a wink, and continued to gently lead Laura around the museum catching her up on the last eleven years. Weldon walked behind them, every now and then talking with Feinman, but mostly felt like he was finally living in one of Laura Dell’s dreams.

“After you left things changed around here, Ms. Dell – I mean Ms. Carter,” Eddie said with a smile. “The bird? Oh, yes. Lived a long and happy life. I took him in and the children and I nursed him back to health. The cat and I have become rather close as well. Old Herbert is pretty old now though,” he paused thoughtfully. “I guess in cat years he’d probably be around the age of Dr. Walters when you first met him.”

At this, Laura Dell’s smile faltered and she took her hand from Eddie’s arm. But Weldon scooped her hand into his and Eddie waited patiently.

“Can we go see Herbert?” she asked.

“You come all this way to see at cat Ms. Laura?” Eddie chuckled. Laura Dell laughed too. She didn’t know why she had named that cat Herbert. It had seemed right at the time, but the irony of the moment was too much not to laugh.

“I think Eddie would like to show you something else that’s taking place around Herbert,” Weldon said.

Laura Dell looked confused, but didn’t pay much attention to it and allowed Eddie to lead them out of the museum to the car. They said goodbye to Feinman at the entrance, who claimed he needed to make sure his desk was in order before the lunch break.

When they arrived at the cemetery, Eddie eased into parking spot. Laura Dell could see why he moved so slow; she looked out her window to the graveside dotted with so many sparrows that she lost count.

The Reception

Laura Dell clung to her brother's arm for support, and he opened the door to help her into the passenger seat. When everyone was seated and buckled in, Eddie started the old car and pulled away from the cemetery. The coffee shop was only about five miles away, so the ride was fairly short, but then Eddie had to find a place to park. Little was said until Laura Dell broke the silence with, "It doesn't seem right, this weather. It's too sunny, too pretty. It should be cloudy and windy like for Dad; made it seem more real..."

"You going to be okay for this, Sis? We don't have to go," John William whispered, leaning forward from the back seat.

"You know I have to," Laura Dell replied, and she shook her head, shaking tears away, as if to emphasize her point. "I need to be there with these people," she said in a small voice that John William and Eddie could barely hear.

"We'll be right there with you Ms. Dell. You know we loved him, too, so we can help each other."

***

At the door of Standee's, Laura Dell stopped, closed her eyes, and took a breath, steeling herself for more tears. When she opened her eyes, she saw her reflection in the glass door and took comfort in her curly hair, her deep brown eyes--features that had so reminded Herbert of Malynne and had drawn him to her in the first place. She released the breath she had been holding, and John William pulled open the door, pausing to let Laura Dell enter first. She offered a weak smile to her brother, ever the gentleman, and stepped inside.

A table with coffee, tea, and small finger sandwiches was positioned against the far wall, so Laura Dell motioned for John William to follow and went to get a cup of coffee. She was sure that she would feel better when she had something to occupy her hands. With a steaming mug of decaf heating her fingers, Laura Dell turned to survey the room.

"--was a great guy. Can't believe he's gone." Laura Dell looked to her left to see Mr. Dresden talking with a man who looked to be around fifty or sixty. She knew the man was a stranger to her, yet there was something familiar about his eyes.

"Hello again Mr. Dresden. I'm so glad you could come today; I know Herbert would be happy about it, too." She looked to the other man and extended her hand. "I don't think we've met. I'm Laura Dell. I met Herbert working at the Field Museum; he used to come there almost every day, and we got to be pretty close friends."

"Ms. Dell, a pleasure to meet you, albeit under such sad circumstances. I'm James Weston. I don't know how much Herbert told you about himself--he could be a little introverted at times. Did he ever mention his wife to you?"

"Malynne, yes. He didn't talk about her too much, but when he did I could see how much he loved her and how sad he was still. Did you know her?" Laura Dell asked. She was so intrigued by this man who seemed to know about Herbert's mysterious past that she didn't notice Mr. Dresden back away to get more coffee.

"I'm her brother, her younger brother. I was only twenty-six when she moved away to get married." James replied.

Laura Dell's mouth opened in recognition. "Your eyes looked so familiar, but I couldn't place you. You look so much like her picture. She was beautiful."

"Thank you, she was. My only regret is that I couldn't have spent more time with her. I never really approved of Dr. Walters, your Herbert. I disliked him for taking away my best friend, my sister, and never really connected with him, even after Malynne's death. When she moved away to be with him, I tried to punish her by cutting her out of my life. I felt like she was abandonning me. The person I ended up punishing most was myself." Laura Dell reached out to touch James's hand, hesitating for a second in uncertainty before closing the gap to clasp his hand in hers. A tear dropped onto Laura Dell's wrist, and she looked up to see that it was not one of her own, but that of James.

"I'm so sorry. My brother is twenty-six right now, and he's probably my best friend just like Malynne was yours. If your relationship with Malynne was anything like mine with my brother, I know she forgave you for not talking to her." Laura Dell's stomach clenched at the thought of never talking to John William again. To reassure herself, she glanced over her shoulder, spotting John William still talking with Eddie.

"I know Malynne forgave me. She wrote to me every week when she left, telling me about her life on digs, and later about her cancer. I just...," James paused and closed his eyes before starting again. "I always thought I would have time to apologize to Dr. Walters. I never got to tell him that I was just jealous of how happy he made Malynne." He kept his eyes closed and tightened his grip on Laura Dell's hand. "I'm sorry Ms. Dell; I didn't mean to drop all of this on you. I should really go."

"No, please. You didn't know Herbert, er, Dr. Walters like I did. He would be glad you were here, I know he would. " Laura Dell raised her eyes to meet those of Herbert's estranged brother-in-law. "You said your name was James; did anyone ever call you Jimmy?"

This seemed to spark a fresh tear in James's eyes, and he nodded yes. "Only Malynne and my parents ever called me that. How did you know?"

"Wait here," Laura Dell told him and turned to find Eddie.

"Can I borrow your keys for a minute? I need something from your car."

Eddie tossed her the keys, and Laura Dell rushed out the door. She returned less than five minutes later carrying her over-sized purse that she had decided to leave in the car. She handed Eddie the keys and set her purse on the table and began digging through it. The purse was left forgotten on the table when she found what she was looking for.

"Here," Laura Dell said, handing a folded paper to James. "I found this in one of Herbert's notebooks, but I didn't know who it was for. He never mentioned a Jimmy, so I didn't even know where to start looking, but here you are. I know he would want you to read it."

She backed away from James to give him time to read and went back to collect her purse. John William and Eddie gave her puzzled looks when she walked back over to them. "That was Herbert's brother-in-law. Malynne's younger brother. Herbert had written him a letter in one of his journals, so I gave it to him." John William put a strong arm around Laura Dell's shoulder and kissed the top of her head. She leaned into his chest and closed her eyes, drawing comfort from the fact that she had such a good friend in her brother.

"I wish Herbert could be here to see all these people. I wish he could talk to James. I wish I could tell him how important he was to me and how much I'm going to miss him." Her tears collected on John William's button-up, forming a dark blue patch on his chest.

"Ms. Dell, let me tell you something," Eddie began. "Everyone, including Herbert, could see how much he meant to you, and you can rest assured that the feeling was mutual."

"Thanks, Eddie," whispered Laura Dell. That was all she could manage.

Someone cleared his throat behind her, so she pulled away from John William's embrace and turned around. James.

He swallowed once, then again, and opened his mouth to say something. His tears were mirrored on Laura Dell's face. His mouth closed and his shoulders dropped. Laura Dell stepped forward and stood up on her toes to embrace the older man. If there was anything she had learned, it was that everyone sometimes needed a little help, a friend. James's shoulders began to shake and Laura Dell squeezed her eyes shut against a flood of tears. He put his arms around her, the folded letter still clutched in his right hand.

"You were so lucky to have him as a friend. I just wish I would have had the courage to talk to him sooner. Thank you so much for helping to put this old man's mind at peace. You're an extraordinary woman, Ms. Dell." With those parting words, James handed Laura Dell a small white card and strode out of the coffee shop.

Laura Dell wiped her eyes on the short sleeve of her navy blue dress and looked at the card.

James Weston

Investment Banker (Atlanta Bank of Illinois)

WestonJ@yahoo.com

(217) 555-7413

She turned the card over to look at the back and saw that he had written her a short note.

If there's ever anything I can do for you, please don't hesitate to contact me. You have my unending thanks,

J.

"Let's go," she said to John William. "I think I'm ready to go."

Chapter 27: Saying Goodbye

On a bench in Lincoln Park, Laura Dell flipped through the pages of Herbert’s life. He found letters to more than just Malynne. He wrote to friends from the war, fallen men he was unable to protect. He told the men their sons were well, that he’d sought them out when he returned to the states. Herbert gave the young men the goodbye they’d never receive from their fathers. He wrote about the things he could not change, the ones that brought heat to his face to think about, the ones he could not speak of. The notebooks had scattered pictures. Some of them were from the war; the names of the subjects were inscribed beside the photos. They live among us even today was written beneath the photograph of a sparrow. Laura Dell opened the last notebook and stared into the eyes of a woman, with dark hair and beautiful features that could only be Malynne. Laura Dell closed her eyes, took a deep breath and bit her lips all in vain. Her eyes filled and soon overflowed. She threw her face into her hands in hopes of subduing her sobs, wary of the people walking through the park.

Several minutes letter, Laura Dell read the inscription beneath the photograph through swollen eyes. It’s hard to come home from such tragedy, knowing how many did not, and meet this beautiful woman. Why I, Herbert Walters, deserve this, I shall never know. Malynne, you make surviving not seem like a terrible crime. You make my life worth living. Laura Dell shut the notebook, gathered her things, and headed to the funeral home.

***

“Ms. Dell, Dr. Walters was lucky to have such a good friend take command of his funeral. The obituary you wrote was beautiful, and the honor guard arrived this morning.” The funeral director, Jane Hill, patted Laura Dell on the back.

“Mrs. Hill, thank you for being so patient with me as we figured all of the details out. I realized Dr. Walters did not have the extended family to plan his funeral. Funerals are so much to plan. He deserved more than to pass without acknowledgement for everything he’s done.”

“Well, Ms. Dell. People will be arriving soon, please let me know if you require anything.”

“Thank you.” Laura Dell walked around in front of the entrance to the chapel. She had not shed a tear since she sat at that bench in Lincoln Park two days ago. She’d gone straight to the museum. Eddie would be able to help make plans for the funeral. It was nothing like her father’s. Then, there had been a full house. People in and out. Between Siloam Baptist church and the neighbors, Laura Dell’s family did not have to worry about buying or preparing food from the day her father died to a solid week after the funeral had ended. In Chicago, Laura Dell had to order pizza. Eddie brought lunch to her apartment one afternoon and helped with phone calls, but Laura Dell had been on her own for the most part. John William wanted her to just come home. So did her mother. She quit answering their phone calls.

Within moments, the doors opened. People came through the doors like scattered leaves blowing in the wind. There was never a large group. Laura Dell saw several men from the ornithological society. Eddie and Dr. Feinman arrived at the same time. A few men arrived in Air Force uniforms. They all past Laura Dell in silence to sit in the chapel, which had almost thirty people when the service began. Just as Laura Dell turned to head into the chapel, she felt a tap on her shoulder. John William’s strong arms wrapped her into a tight hug.

***

In Granville Cemetery, Laura Dell sat beneath the green tent on the folding chairs and wished she was a thousand miles away. When the Honor Guard stepped away from the mahogany casket, she was back at her father’s funeral in Alabama. She saw John William beside her and his swollen eyes pushed her into stifled sobs. Her mother, on the other hand, looked fine, which Laura Dell could not understand. Laura Dell knew now, sitting in front of Herbert’s casket, that her mother was not fine. That she’d spent the last three days doing the paperwork. That she hadn’t let herself think about what the paperwork was for.

After brief words from the preacher, the Honor Guard surrounded the casket and turned for the salute. The attendees stood. Fifty feet to their right, seven men in uniform pointed their guns upward. Laura Dell closed her eyes. The first round cracked the dam Laura Dell had built with mounds of paperwork and phone calls. John William looped his arm through his sisters and laced his fingers into hers as the second round sent a shutter through her body. The third round cracked.

The Honor Guard mechanically began to remove the flag. With sharp, stiff movements, they folded and smoothed the flag over the body of Herbert Walters. As they formed the small triangle, Laura Dell realized what would happen next. She imagined Malynne, grayed with age, wearing a black cardigan should be standing in her position. The young woman who directed the Honor Guard snapped toward Laura Dell. She stepped forward and knelt down to one knee at Laura Dell’s feet. John William’s strength kept her standing. The young woman lifted the flag and spoke. Laura Dell did not hear a single word the woman said, but accepted the flag.

When the woman stepped away, time stopped for Laura Dell. The silence overwhelmed her ears. Then, a bugle rang out across the graveyard. As the taps played, the last few months flashed through Laura Dell’s memory. She saw the old man, who looked as if old age did not come naturally. She remembered the tweed coat with the crest she had yet to identify. She saw the childlike wonder in Herbert’s eyes as he watched a little boy in a red baseball cap discover he felt looking at fossils of creatures. She saw his friendly face greeting her as she stepped into the Dead Yellowhammer that first night. She saw him standing in her doorway in a top hat and walking down the street, pretending that he didn’t really need his cane. She saw the light in his eyes when he left the hospital to have a smoke and hop on the L. A smile, more genuine than any she’d put on since January, rose to Laura Dell’s face. She’d always heard the taps are the hardest, that they signaled the end of the funeral. The end of a life. Her father’s funeral ended with a prayer, and a steady break away of people. Nothing meant the end, they just kind of left. She’d quit her job suddenly. No last day. Laura Dell found comfort in the lone sound of the bugle in the green tent in the big empty cemetery that meant that something had indeed, ended.

After a moment of silence, Laura Dell and John William filed out of the tent. The funeral director announced that a small, private reception would be held at Standee’s Coffee Shop, where Herbert and Malynne spent many evenings. Laura Dell and John William took their place toward the entrance to the parking lot to say thank you to everyone who had come to the funeral and further extend the invitation to the reception. When Mr. Feinman approached, John William’s shoulders broadened and his chest swelled.

“Ms. Dell, I am so sorry to hear about Dr. Walters. I know this is an awful time to tell you this, but when things settle down, I would be honored if you would come speak with me at the museum. The Board of Directors was not happy to hear about what happened. They told me I should not have been so hard on you and that the Cenozoic Time Machine was by far the best-run exhibit we’ve had in quite a while. I hate to admit it, but they are right.” Dr. Feinman forced a smile onto his face.

“You hate to admit it?” John William answered. “If that was supposed to be a compliment, you need to try again, but you’re right. Now is not the time. My sister will— ”

“Dr. Feinman, please excuse my brother. I do appreciate what you are trying to do and I will consider it, but as you said, now is not the time. I will think about this and will notify the museum to setup a meeting if I feel like that’s what I need to do in a few days. Thank you.” Laura Dell offered a faint smile and her hand.

Mr. Feinman shook it. “Thank you, Ms. Dell.” He walked away, carefully avoiding the gaze of John William. Laura Dell met several young men who were sons of the men Dr. Walters described and wrote letters to in his notebooks. They promised to tell her all they knew of Herbert at the coffee shop and continued. The young woman in charge of the Honor Guard approached and gave Laura Dell three of the shotgun shells from the twenty-one-gun salute and said her prayers would be with her in the coming months. The men from the ornithological society, along with their wives offered condolences and inquired after the sparrow’s health. Laura Dell made a mental note to check on the bird later that evening. They said their goodbyes and wished her luck with the future. Eddie was the last to head toward the parking lot. He face was stained with tears, but he offered to drive Laura Dell and John William. They got into his old Toyota Corona and headed to Standee’s.

tucking in the corners

England. Laura Dell could have been in England, running from awning to awning, dodging the rain with strangers. It could have been London, but it could have been anywhere as long as in that place she did not have to stare at the brick wall on the landing, while two men loaded the body of her friend into an ambulance; one that drove away without its sirens and without its horns to tell everyone that this was an emergency.

Sorrow found Laura Dell when she was very young. And then it slept, for just long enough in the grass to have her to believe that there were things in the world worth getting out of bed for; things worth moving to Chicago for.

But now there none of those things, and as she stood on the landing in a cocktail dress, she wished that her car wasn’t back in Siloam. She had spent a lot of time in it after everything with her father. In her car she could be somewhere and nowhere at the same time, and it fit so well around her.

She had nowhere to go, because while cancer lives in a place it does not belong, the death that it caused made her feel like she did not belong in the places she lived.

She climbed the stairs, and went back inside of Herbert’s apartment. To say that Laura Dell had never experienced death would be a lie, but to say that she knew how to handle it, to say that she was good at it would be just as untrue.

Sitting on the end of his bed, Laura Dell knew, and realized again that the worst part about the death was not the actual event, but the realization that the world does not take much notice; that and the fact that she still had to keep the cat from eating the bird. Her sparrow was not singing, but sat perched in the corner of its little menagerie although the door hung open.

“Come here Herbert,” Laura called to the grey kitten in the corner.

“It’s not your fault.”

Her voice surprised her, as did the tears, and she wasn’t at all sure she was talking to the cat. She sat for a long time, looking at the map across the wall from Herbert’s bed. The pins, each a different color, marked almost every country in the world. At the realization that he would never be there to decipher what the colors meant, she gathered her things. Laura Dell hailed a cab to drive her the eight blocks back to her apartment, and as it was passing the theatre something inside of her asked the driver to stop.

She asked the driver to wait for her.

A few moments later, she realized that this was as ridiculous as asking him if he wore deodorant, and he drove away as she approached the box office. The line of people who waited to get tickets the night of the show was stretched around the corner, but Laura Dell walked to the very end anyway. She found a couple there, reached into her purse and handed two tickets to them.

“Don’t you need these Ma’m?”

The young couple was terribly excited, and as Laura Dell watched them skip the line entirely and go through the revolving door of the theatre, she decided to walk the remaining three blocks.

As the trees ushered her in with their long branches, pointing her toward her apartment building and up the little stairwell, she stood in front of her red door. Placing the key in the lock, she realized it would not turn, and that it was Herbert’s. Looking down at the key on her ring, Laura Dell was surprised that it had even fit.

They were similar keys, but ones that opened very different locks. Laura Dell wished that her mother could have understood.

After changing, Laura Dell headed back to Herbert’s apartment because he would not feed himself and she didn’t want him trying to eat the sparrow again. The air inside still made you feel like a stranger, but the bed did not. She smoothed out the wrinkles where Herbert had been, made the bed and tucked in all the corners.

She had come this far, and went a little further. In keeping a promise to a friend, she collected his journals; fed Herbert, and the sparrow. She turned out the light.

Dear Malynne,

Do you remember the time at your mother’s, the time when you found a snake in her garden? I chopped its head off with a hoe, and burned its body. I am sorry I could not protect you from sadness, tornadoes, or coffee that was too hot. I’m sorry I could not chop off the head of cancer; from that one cell that becomes two, the two that become three, and the whole maddening thing that grows and grows and grows. It now seems to be asking for both of our lives, and I wonder if it realizes that the more it grows, the closer it is to its own death?

My arms do not hurt so badly today, although they are still bruised. I am sorry I did not realize how your arms must have hurt when they were always taking blood, and that it took me so long to discover the mystery that is you. I am sorry for the months I was away in Africa, for the year I was in Egypt without you; and for even beginning to hope that the eight months spent sleeping next to you on a hospital couch could warrant even one of my absences. When we met, I knew that I would either have to have you or spend the rest of my life chasing you. Thank you for not making me chase you, and for standing beside me even during the times when I gave you no reason to.

I wish that you could see her Malynne, because she reminds me so much of you. The way her curls frame her face, and she does not laugh when I am not funny. We came to see you a few weeks ago, and I am sorry we could not stay longer; I am sorry you could not stay longer.

As the wheels of the train ground to a stop, Laura Dell closed Herbert's journal, and stepped out into the early morning rain.

Chapter 25: Herbert's Last Hoorah

The brisk spring breeze skirted around Laura Dell as she emerged onto the sidewalk outside her apartment complex.
“It’s about time we had some nice weather,” she thought to herself. It had been a long winter, and Laura Dell could only hope that the changing seasons would bring about better circumstances, but somehow she couldn’t convince herself of that fact, not with Herbert slowly fading in front of her very eyes. As she walked down the narrow sidewalk, she considered what spring would look like without him.
“He must make it through the spring,” she said out loud, oblivious to the little boy that shot her a funny glance as she passed him and his mother.
She had almost made it to the museum, not to beg for Feinman’s forgiveness, but only to meet Mr. Dresden out front. She thought taking the sparrow with her to Herbert’s apartment would surely brighten his day.
“Oh Mr. Dresden, over here,” Laura Dell called when she was a few feet from the front entrance. She wanted to avoid seeing Feinman at all costs. “Thanks so much for taking care of the little guy.”
“It was no problem, really. He’s actually on the mend. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was ready to be released within a week or two.”
“We’ll see about that. You know we spent a lot of time together at the museum, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he couldn’t bring himself to leave me at all.”
“Well, let me know if you have any questions.”
Laura Dell assured him that she wouldn’t hesitate to call if anything arose. Continuing her walk, she held the small wire cage up to eye level and peered inside at the little sparrow.
“What a trouble maker you’ve been,” she sighed to herself, but couldn’t help smiling at his small pointed face. “I hope Herbert won’t mind your company. Just don’t leave any surprises on his furniture, and I promise not to pull out the nets again.”
When Herbert opened the door, he beamed with excitement.
“I always welcome aviary visitors! Malynne and I used to have a parrot you know. Winslow was his name. She came up with that one---don’t ask me how,” he said with a chuckle. It seemed to Laura Dell that with every day she knew Herbert she continued to find out more and more about him. His life stories never ceased; they came one after the other, like the colorful segments of a magician’s handkerchief. She wondered if she would ever know them all.
“Your apartment, or home I should say, is just beautiful. I don’t feel like I’m in the city at all.” The walls were all painted a light blue, like the color of a robin’s egg without the faint speckling. Sepia photographs were displayed all around her, the faces of Herbert’s cousins, sisters, and of course, Malynne. The smell reminded Laura Dell of her grandparents’ home. What was it about age in a house? It was as if the walls knew they were supposed to take on the scent of Vicks Save and stale crackers. It was lovely.
They shared the leftover dumplings and strawberry salad that Laura Dell had packed for Herbert the night before, but most of their conversation was interrupted by the shrill chirping of the sparrow. After only a few minutes in the apartment, he had grown adjusted and had begun to sing. Soon after, a small grey kitten frolicked into the room.
“Oh Herbert, the kitten!” Laura Dell left her lunch half eaten, to lean down and scoop him up. “No sparrow for lunch today, you cute thing.” She had never considered herself a cat person, but because he belonged to Herbert, she couldn’t’ help but think him special.
Herbert smiled the smile of an adoring father as he watched Laura Dell stroke the
white fur beneath the kitten’s head.
“You two make quite a pair there, my dear.”
“Well look what you’ve done to us! We’ve got a regular zoo on our hands here! In a minute I’m going to have to start calling you Dr. Doolittle instead of Dr. Walters.” They both laughed deep throated belly laughs that caused their sides to ache. It seemed that all the world was at peace inside that blue apartment, and for a few moments, it was. After a while though, Herbert began to yawn and Laura Dell got the impression that it might be time for his afternoon nap. She wondered if Herbert was at all like her own grandfather, who had passed away a few years ago. Every afternoon at exactly three o’clock, he used to undress from his work clothes, put on a full suit of pajamas, and get into bed as if it were nighttime.
“Why don’t I let you get some rest? I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”
“Oh, I’m not that tired; it’s just that my body is giving me the signal that I need to rest up for my big event tonight.”
“Big event?”
“Oh yes, didn’t I tell you? I’m taking a lovely young lady to the theater again. That is, if she’ll accept my invitation.”
“But Herbert, do you really think you should---”
“Now Laura Dell, I’ve got twelve nurses over there at that hospital if I want to be told what I can and cannot do. Let them worry about that.” Despite his assurance, it did worry Laura Dell to think of what might happen while taking Herbert out on a busy Friday night. But still, they had been looking forward to making another visit to the theater.
“Well in that case, I’d be delighted.” She smiled at him, trying to conceal any misgivings about his fragile condition. “Pick you up at seven?”
“Don’t be late!”
“And what show might we be seeing?”
“All in due time my dear. Surprises can be fun, you know.”
At his request, she left the sparrow at Herbert’s, and there was nothing to encumber her light steps on the way back to her apartment. If she had been little again, she might have skipped all the way home. She made up her mind that they would have a good time that night, and that she would not let her protective fears spoil their evening. Herbert had been right. The theater was the best idea he could have had.
Her girlish mood continued as Laura Dell dressed for the special occasion. She found a cocktail dress pushed to the back of her closet that she had worn to a social in college. It was turquoise chiffon and still fit beautifully. Normally, Laura Dell would have worn black or some other muted tone like the other women of Chicago, but with the spring weather and the excitement of their night out and all, she decided it was time to have a little fun. She hoped Herbert would like it too.
By the time she made it up to Herbert’s floor, she found herself almost out of breath. Perhaps the elevator would have been a better decision for her strappy sandaled feet. She was in no mood to let a minor setback like that weight her down though. She went up to his door, and rapped on it with a pompous look on her face, if only for her own entertainment. A few moments went by without any sound from within.
“Herbert? Herbert? It’s Laura Dell.” She tried to keep her voice calm. She didn’t want to alarm him if he was on his way. A few minutes more, and her mind began to race. She pounded harder on his door this time, her hands beginning to shake with every hit. Deciding it was time to use the key Herbert had given her earlier, Laura Dell searched the contents of her purse, halfway hoping that Herbert would throw back the door any moment, catching her in the act.
But no such surprise came. She finally found the small gold key, and inserted into the lock. When she entered the blue apartment the smell that only hours before had greeted her with warm nostalgia now struck her with unfamiliarity. There was no sight or sound of Herbert. She felt like a stranger in his house.
“Herbert? Herbert!” Again, no answer. Only a second later, she began to hear a faint chirp coming from the kitchen. Still hoping Herbert might not have heard her and was perhaps occupied with the bird, she followed the sound. To her dismay she walked in only to find the small wire cage knocked over, the flimsy door still swinging on its hinge. A few feet away the small grey kitten lay crouched over the sparrow, it’s small white teeth gnawing the birds broken foot. Laura Dell’s heart wretched within her. She ran over to scoop up the little bird, which the kitten continued to paw at as she pried its leg out of his teeth. He was at least still alive and would be fine in the cage, for a few minutes at least.
“Herbert! Where are you?” Laura Dell became more frightened than anything, and she began to run towards the back of the apartment, her mind in a frenzy. The bedroom door at the end of the hallway was slightly cracked, and Laura Dell could hear the low hum of the ceiling fan as she approached. It all looked so normal, only she couldn’t get her hand to push the door open. She wanted to run, run all the way back to Siloam, run anywhere but in that room. She knew she had to do it though; if not she, who?
The door creaked as it opened, but Herbert did not stir as the sharp sound sliced the silence in the room. He only lie still, his chest motionless.
“Herbert!” She ran to his bedside, and her eyes were flooded with tears before her hands could reach him. She continued calling his name as if he could hear her, though she knew he could not, at first in a forced whisper, but as she kept repeating it, it grew to a shrill scream. Laura Dell threw herself on him, her sobs becoming muffled in his starched white shirt. His body was still warm, his cologne still fresh. Laura Dell’s dress cascaded around the bed, a waterfall of blue.

Plans over Lunch

Laura Dell set the penguin bobblehead in the box with the few throw pillows she had. While she didn’t have plans to go home to Siloam, her lease was up in a few weeks, and it was time to start packing up. Herbert would be at the museum now, writing in his notebook. She’d seen him every day this week; after his morning meditation with Sue, they ate lunch together. Today she was making a big country-style lunch for them: chicken and dumplings were simmering on the stove, and she had a strawberry salad – Maw Maw Fords’ special dessert – chilling in the fridge. He would be here in just a few minutes.

John William wanted her to come home. “I’m glad you gave that awful boss of yours the four-one-one,” he’d said when she talked to him last night. “Take these few weeks off and then come on back. I bet there’s a museum in Mobile that could use your awesome skills as a knowledgeable, experienced whatever-you-are.”

“I’m a geologist,” she had replied, laughing a little. John William always made her feel better.

“Speaking of, how’s Herb?”

“He’s…” Laura Dell wasn’t exactly sure what to tell him. She wasn’t exactly sure how Herb (ert, she thought, a little annoyed) was feeling. He said he was fine, that he felt fine, et cetera ad infinitum, but she felt pretty sure he was lying. “I guess he’s as well as can be expected. He’s not in the hospital any more, but the nurse told me that it wasn’t because he was better – it was because he was terminal.”

John William was quiet for a minute. “I know this is tough for you. I wish I could do something that would make it better, solve this problem for you. But this isn’t like taking care of Teddy Feazell that time he was following you everywhere. This is a grown-up problem, and you and I both know I’m never really gonna grow up.” He chuckled a little at his joke, then sighed. “Look. If you need me you know I’ll be there as quick as I can get there, but I want you to think about what I said. Siloam maybe could use a geogolist.” He’d hung up then, and Laura Dell had chuckled a little at his goofy (and intended) mispronunciation.

Laura Dell looked back own at the penguin. John William knew her so well. They’d grown up much closer than most brother-sister pairs; perhaps it was the environment they shared that had formed that intense bond, or maybe it was just that John William wasn’t like most big brothers. He’d never teased her like other big brothers.

A knock on her door interrupted her reverie. She stood up and peeked through her peephole. No surprises – it was Herbert, leaning heavily on his cane. She opened the door and he stood right up, putting as little weight as possible on the cane. Her suspicions were confirmed – he was lying to her. “Hello, Herbert,” she said, smiling as she let him through. “How is Sue today?”

“She’s well, with the exception of that hand that fell off. Feinman wasn’t exactly forthcoming as to how she lost it. The Board is very upset, but they don’t believe the damage is very serious or detrimental.” He settled into a chair at her kitchen table – really it was little more than a glorified end table – and leaned his cane against the wall behind him. She moved to the stove to stir the chicken and dumplings. “The museum is somewhat quieter without the bird.” Laura smiled.

“Well, I’ve got something to tell you about that,” she said, coming to sit with him. “I talked to Mr. Dresden, the man who has the sparrow. He’s going to be okay, and Mr. Dresden is bringing him to me to keep him while he mends.”

“That’s good news, Miss Dell,” he said softly. She looked him over.

“Herbert, please. Be frank with me. How are you feeling?” She reached her hand out to touch his wrinkly wrist. “I’m very worried about you.”

“I know. I wanted to speak with you about all this today, actually, if you’re ready. I know you’re young, and death seems such a horrible thing to you, but you must understand that I truly meant what I said about having lived a long, full life. I’m 76 years old, Laura Dell. I’ve had my Malynne, I’ve done some awesome things, as you well know. I’ve had a wonderful time getting to know you, as well,” he said, winking at her. “I’d like to get to know your cooking skills,” he added. She squawked a little and hopped up to fix two bowls of chicken and dumplings.

“Sorry about that, Herbert,” she said, setting the two bowls on the table, and handing him a spoon. He chortled.

“It’s okay. I was distracting you from your southern hostess habits. Where was I?” He scooped up a dumpling. “Mmm. Ah, yes. Well, I’ve been doing quite a lot of thinking. Truly, ever since I received my diagnosis, but more so since you arrived.” Laura Dell looked down and stirred her own soup. “My notebooks are in my house. If … I suppose I should say when … something happens to me, I want you to go into my house and get them. They’re in the office, right off the living room.” He took another bite. How is he so calm about this? Laura asked herself. “I want you to read them. I understand that it may be hard, but I want you to read them as soon as you get them, and I want you to get them before my funeral. There are some important things in them. There’s a lot of unimportant stuff, too, but the unimportant is a part of the journey to the important.” He set down his spoon and fished into a pocket in his sportscoat. “Here’s the key to my house.” He slid a jagged brass key across the table. Laura Dell picked it up, fighting back tears. “Also,” he added, using a much lighter tone, “there’s a rather small kitten. I found it in the street and took it in when I got out of the hospital. Please be sure he is taken care of.”

Looking – reaching, really – for a distraction, Laura Dell said, “You have a kitten now?”

“Yep,” he said. “I wanted to name him Sue, but then I found out he was not a she as I’d originally thought. I have yet to find a good male name.”

“You could always just name him Sue anyway, and pay homage to both Sue the Dino and Johnny Cash,” Laura Dell joked a little. Herbert laughed heartily.

“You know something, Miss Laura Dell? That’s very true. That Johnny Cash was a wild character; it’s kind of fitting. That rascally tom kitten is wild too. Keeps hiding under beds and chairs and in closets and jumping out on my pants leg. Perhaps I’ll do that.” He chuckled again, then finished his chicken and dumplings. “Ah. I don’t believe I’ve had anything so good in a long time.”

“Well, there’s strawberry salad chilled in the fridge as well, for dessert. It’s surely not as good as my grandmother’s, but it’s her recipe, and hers is always a Christmas hit.” She rose and pulled it out of her tiny fridge.

“Oh, no, Laura Dell, thank you – although if you’ll be so kind as to fix me up a bowl of soup and some strawberry salad I’ll take it with me on home. I’d just as soon have another bowl of those dumplings for dinner than anything else.” She nodded and made up the doggy bag.

“Where do you live?” she asked, realizing that she had no idea as she snapped the lid on the Tupperware divided plate. She handed it to him as he scrawled something on a scrap of paper.

“Here’s my address. I assume you know how to Map Quest an address?” He winked again as he gathered up the Tupperware and his cane and got ready to leave. “You might try it tomorrow, around this same time, if you’d like. I would like to return the delicious favor.” He stepped out into the wind and walked down the street. Laura Dell watched him, wondering if she would get to enjoy his company tomorrow.

Chapter 23

Sweat poured out of every pore in Laura Dell’s body as she stood outside that hospital door. She did not know what to expect to be awaiting her on the other side of that door. Would Herbert be back to his old self or would he be covered in IV’s and bandages?
“Laura Dell, are you coming in or are you going to stand at the door the whole time?” Herbert called out to her from his hospital bed. She was so wrapped up in her own worries and thoughts that she did not even notice there was a glass in the door that Herbert could see her through. She was relieved he was awake and looking in good spirits.
“How are you Herbert?” she asked as she quickly kissed him on the cheek. She was so shocked by her own actions that she began to blush a little. Laura Dell decided to take Herbert’s mind off of his own illness by telling him about her last day at work,
“I cannot believe you finally told that ass hole off. Good for you Miss Dell,” Herbert said with a little chuckle and motioned for Laura Dell to come closer. She slid in on the side of the bed near Herbert and grasped his hand.
“You know Herbert, you really scared me the other day. All I could think about is what I would do if I never got to talk to you again or go to the theater. I was worried sick.” Laura Dell was fighting to hold back the tears she felt rushing to her eyes.
“Don’t worry about me. I have live a great and long life. I had a beautiful love and I met you. What more could a man ask for?” Herbert gave Laura Dell that smile that always warmed her heart. She felt at ease for the first time in days.
“Excuse me, Mr. Walters? I need to draw a little blood from you.” A stocky nurse walked in wearing bright pink lipstick. Laura Dell excused herself and went to the hallway to wait for the nurse to be done with Herbert.
Laura Dell felt her phone vibrating as she leaned up against the wall in the hallway. The snell of the hospital was suffocating. She did not know how Herbert stood it here. She couldn’t wait until he could leave so they could enjoy the freedom together.
Laura Dell, it’s Sydney. Dinner tonight? She had not talked to Sydney since the first night they had met at the winery Sidney bar tended at. She confirmed dinner with Sydney and returned to the room.
“Laura Dell, they say I seem stable enough. I may be getting out of here soon.” Herbert tried to muster up some excitement. It was obvious to Laura Dell the blood work had taken a lot out of him.
“That’s great Herbert! We will have to plan something special to do to celebrate your freedom from this place and mine from the Evil Feinmen. They chuckled together and Laura Dell promised to call Herbert in the morning.
***
“Laura Dell! Over here!” Sydney called to Laura Dell as she walked into the crowded resteraunt.
“It is so good to see you Sydney! I am sorry I have been so busy. How have you been?” Laura Dell asked giving Sydney a quick hug. She ignored the looks of the other diners, most likely they were not accustomed to the friendliness of Southerners. The girls spent time catching up on the things that had been going on in their lives since they had seen each other a couple of weeks ago. Laura Dell felt so relieved to have a friend that was separate from her problems at work and with Herbert’s illness.
“Aww, Laura Dell, I am so sorry to hear about your job. Well if you need a little spending money you could probably work a few nights with me at the bar. I could teach you!” Sydney told a reluctant Laura Dell.
“Sydney! The only thing I know how to pour is a beer. That is so sweet for you to offer, but I think I will be fine. I only have a few more weeks of my lease left anyway. “Laura Dell sipped on her glass of Moscato and thought about all of the things she wanted to do with these upcoming weeks left in Chicago.
“So, are you going back to Siloam?”
“You know Syd, I thought I was but now I am not sure. I really like it here. I feel like there are so many things for me to explore. I am still trying to figure out my next move.”
“I could not agree with you more Laura. I think you should see what the world has to offer you. There are so many museums and things like that out there. I am sure any of them would love to have you. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if that jerk of a boss called you up trying to offer you a real position with the museum!” Sydney said with a chuckle.
***
Laura Dell walked into her apartment to find a message awaiting her on her machine.
“Laura, it’s me again. Mom said you two had some kind of misunderstanding. I know she can be a real nut sometimes, but just ignore it. We are all she has… is everything ok with you? Call me or I am coming up there again!” Sydney knew John William was right, but her mother had really gotten under her skin by referring to Herbert as a sack of dirt.
Laura Dell decided to take a nice hot bath; it had been a long day. She was beginning to stress out about the future. She knew the next few weeks would be over before she knew it, but she was not ready to move on yet, not without Herbert being stable and healthy. She had no idea what would happen with his illness. She knew one thing though; she was not going to return to Siloam.
Laura Dell leaned back in the tub and begin to think about how all her troubles had began with that tiny sparrow. If it had not been for that bird getting in maybe Feinmen would not have been so hard on her and maybe she would not have had to quit. But, the bird was also what brought her to Herbert. She began to smile thinking of the little bird now. She hoped he would make it though, just like she hoped Herbert would.
***
Laura Dell woke up late the next morning since she did not have to go to work. She decided she would pick up some coffee and a schedule for some upcoming events in Chicago, so that she and Herbert could celebrate his recovery together. She was in high spirits that day as she walked up the steps to Herbert’s room on the 5th floor.
“Oh hi sweetie! You’re the one that comes to visit Mr. Walters, right?” The nurse from the previous day approached Laura Dell with a clipboard in her hand.
“Yes, is everything ok? Is Herbert ok?” Laura Dell felt panic rushing through her body as she waited for the nurse’s response.
“He actually left a couple of hours ago. I was sure he would have let you know.”
“Oh, you scared me. He must be doing great since he got released, so soon.” Laura Dell relaxed a little.
“Well, actually with patients like Mr. Walters, in his condition that is… we like to stabilize them and make sure there are no immediate threats and let them go on about their way. You know, we do not want to make them spend their time in these stuffy old rooms. Their time is too precious’” the nurse patted Laura Dell’s shoulder and walked away.
As the tears of reality rolled down her face she tossed the coffees and walked out of those double doors. She now realized these next few weeks were going to be more critical then she thought.

22- Under Pressure

Laura sat inside her dingy one bedroom apartment. The smell a mixture of mothballs and her neighbor’s dinner. She stared with no expression with the blank television in front of her. Opting instead to listen to the neighbors below her argue about who was going to be doing the dishes. The husband’s only response was that since his wife had made the dinner she would do best just to finish the job and do the dishes as well.
What a jerk, Laura thought to herself. What kind of man treats a woman he cares about like that? Laura sank back into her thick green sponge sofa and placed her hands in to her pocket. Her fingers pressed down her thighs until passing over a small folded piece of paper. She stopped and raised her eyebrow, as she questioned the contents of her pocket. She removed a small folded yellow piece of paper with a telephone number. Atop the number sat the name Rupert Dresden. Oh the little bird I wonder how he is? I hope I didn’t make him a crippled sparrow. Damn Feinman and those stupid nets. I wish that bird would’ve dropped something in his coffee.

For the entire time Laura had been interning at the museum there had been but one thorn in her side. This thorn greeted her daily, with quick sarcastic comments. He always knew just the thing to say to ruin a good mood or that oh so perfect time to say the wrong thing. He was special that way. The health problems that Herbert going through had caused Laura to begin to question her own mortality. Her nights had been filled with sour dreams and her days riddled with crushing realities. Herbert was going to die, she had basically spent her entire summer being the whipping post for a man whose only claim to power was a title and an abandoned broom closet with a nameplate on the door. Laura had tried to ignore it but inside of her there had formed deep wounds, and everyday at the museum Feinman’s quick jabs and low blows only tore them open leaving her exposed. She was battered and broken and was unsure of how much of him she could possibly stand.

Laura looked down at the number in her hand and back over to the answering machine. The answering machine light blinked red as it caught the corner of Laura’s right eye. She stood up and walked to the machine and looked down with a curious gaze. She bent down and pressed the play button. Her mother’s voice jumped out like a jack-in-the-box. “Hey! Hey! Hey! Guess who calling down here from old Siloam. Does it sound familiar? I’ve been trying to reach you but I can’t find you. Getting a little worried. Kiss, Kiss sweetie. Call your mom!” Laura could not have been more unprepared for the message. Her mother’s overjoyed tone felt like jagged steel nails being ripped across a chalkboard. Laura puckered her lips and winced as the voice mail finished as she tried to regain her composure.

“Well I’ve got to do this sometime. No better time than the present.” She encouraged herself aloud. Laura bent down and dialed the numbers. Only the last four digits of her mother’s phone number would not come to her memory. Odd, She thought. Has it really been that long since I called? Dialing the numbers made her feel like a prisoner making his walk to gallows to low hushed beat of a drum. Dum. Dum. Dum.
“Hey Laura!” The pedestal dropped beneath her feet and the rope pulled tight against her neck.
“Hey Mom, How goes it?” She said, short of breath.
“Well you know same old same old down here.” Laura’s mind drifted away to a train ride as her mother squawked and squealed. Laura came back to Earth as her mother’s long winded response started to wind down. Divorce talks and the city mayor’s were not issues that felt too pressing to Laura. Laura’s mother’s voice slapped her to attention. “Tell me about you my little paleontologist. Are things in the big city going well? Have you forgotten all about us Siloam folks?” Her fake forced Laugh sent chills down Laura’s spine. Despite her faults I know thatshe means well, Lauara reconciled. So here we go.
“Mom actually things aren’t going so hot up here.”
“Really sweetie? Tell me what’s up.”
“Mom literally everything that could go wrong at the museum is blamed on me. 2nd grade kid pees on an exhibit, my fault for letting him use the water fountain. A bird flies in the museum and poops on the exhibits, my fault for not having a gun and shooting it. My boss is quite possibly the coldest person I have ever met. You give someone like Feinman a title and a desk and watch the consequences. The man thinks he owns a red cape with an S on the back,” she vented.
“That is terrible. I once had a boss like that too.”
“Everyday no matter what my day starts with a lovely comment. If I’m five minutes early, he lets me know how surprised he is. Five minutes late he threatens to fire me. I’m to a breaking point here.”
Her mother’s voice was much smoother and seemed to harbor a different tone. “Honey, no one should talk to you like that, ever. You need to do what is right for you and what is going to make you happy,” her mother said.
“I know mom. I’m going to be strong though. I hope it will get better. There is something else too though.” Laura stopped and took a deep breath. She could feel herself tremble as she thought about Herbert lying in his bed.
“What. What is it?”
“It’s Herbert mom. There are some problems with-“
“Oh honey, drop that old sack of dirt. That whole thing is getting out of control.”
Laura’s eyes widened and turned fiery red. She removed the phone from her ear and slammed it down on the hook, breaking both the phone and answering machine.
Laura struggled to find sleep that night her thoughts filled with mortality, friendship, and regret. Her mother could not have picked a worse time. No one understands us, she thought. Our connection is beyond what any of these simple minded people can grasp. Sleep came through to Laura but short lived. Laura sat up in bed awoken by a hiss. As she followed the noise it became louder and louder. Finally she came to the source in her bedroom bathroom. She listened with the utmost attention hoping that the noise being spotted at its source would retreat. She looked down as she heard a gurgle from the depths of her sink. At that moment a loud pop similar to many of the fireworks John William had shot exploded beneath her sink.
The water did not stop until seven the next morning. The landlord would not be around until 8:30 the next morning. Laura reached for the phone to call the museum and tell them of her misfortune but was reminded only of her and her mother’s conversation the night before.

Laura slipped into the museum at 10 am. She was had not been able to shower, brush her teeth, or put on dry clothes. Laura stood there in the museum as physical representation of her inner self. She gave a half hearted wave to Eddie as she slipped into the T-Rex exhibit.
“Well.Well.Well.” The voice was recognized by Laura from the first syllable. In the back of Laura’s mind the drum began to beat again. Dum. Dum. Dum. Laura felt a twinge rise up her spine and blood rush to her fist. She spun around to face Feinman. Her eyes were wide, a mixture of anger and frustration. Exhaustion rested heavy against her brow and under her eye. “On time, and looking sharp as usual,” his sarcasm cut her wound. “No Herbert here to bail you out, or give you an excuse?” It felt like he was pouring salt atop the wound.
“Let me just stop you right there,” she said as the hair on her neck curled. I had a serious mechanical breakdown at my apartment last night. I haven’t been able to sleep for the last few days and now I can’t even shower or brush my teeth. I am sick of hearing what you have to say. Your sarcasm hurts. I think you are a joke and no one thinks your jokes are funny. Also I hope you know your office used to be a broom closet” Feinman stepped back speechless.
“I quit.’ Laura turned before Feinman had a chance to respond. Without thinking Feinman grabbed his clipboard and heaved it across the museum slamming it against the T-Rex’s hand’s causing it to fall and crack against the floor.
“That’s going to cost you a few years’ salary,” Eddie said from the corner of the room.
Laura bounded out of the museum and down the steps making her way to the hospital. She raced up the five flights of stairs to reach Herbert’s floor.

Chapter 21

The nets were all down by the time Laura Dell got back to the museum. Dr. Walters’ associates were also gone. Not that Laura Dell looked for them. It was in a daze that she wandered through the exhibits. She couldn’t shake the feeling Herbert’s unsmiling eyes had left her with.
She wasn’t paying any attention to where she was going and almost walked right into Mr. Feinman’s back. Laura Dell stopped herself so close to him that he took a startled step back when he turned around.
“Oh,” he almost gasped. “Miss Dell, I see the nets have been taken down. It didn’t get done before opening though-” He seemed to cut off mid-sentence. “Are you alright Miss Dell? You look a little pale.”
“Huh?” she asked. “Oh, no I am fine.” She tried on a smile. If he noticed, then I must look terrible, she thought. She wondered if her eyes were smiling.
“Very well,” he said. He shook a confused face away and his petulant eyes returned. “I have some work to do and I am sure you do as well so let’s get to it.”
Mr. Feinman walked away without waiting for a response. So abrupt was the encounter that it didn’t even occur to Laura Dell that she hadn’t got caught leaving the museum. She continued following her feet until they led her to a more open area.
Not looking up she could feel the room open up around but she still felt suffocated. She stopped in the room and looked up to see Sue gazing at her with hollow eyes. Laura Dell sat down on the bench where she first met Herbert.
Things were happening to quickly. She knew this was inevitable but it seemed like she and Herbert were just getting to know each other. It was too early for him to be deteriorating this soon. Eddie’s words echoed in her head. He isn’t the one who can get hurt. She hated Eddie right then. It wasn’t fair to him and she knew it but that didn’t mean she had to like it. She looked up at Sue and hated her too. Hated her for bringing her and Herbert together. She hated her being dead and remaining in her life. She hated her for looking at her with the same empty eyes that Herbert had.
Laura Dell buried her eyes in her palms. Get a grip, she told herself, Herbert isn’t dead and it’s nobody’s fault but your own that you feel this way. Though the words were true, they were no comfort. With a deep breath she stood up. Back to work. If you keep moping Feinman might actually go through with firing you for once. Focusing her anger at her boss she went about her duties.

Laura Dell didn’t go back to the hospital after work. She knew Herbert would expect her but she didn’t know if she could handle seeing that smile again. It was one thing to know he was sick but she hadn’t been prepared to see it up close and personal. So she went home, avoiding the feelings the hospital brought.
There was a message on her answering machine when she walked through the door. She threw her purse on the table and changed out of her work clothes before she pushed play on the device.
“Hey sis,” John William’s cheerful voice came out of the speaker. “You don’t write, you don’t call. It’s enough to make a guy feel unloved. How busy can a museum be? Anyway, I just wanted know how you liked the play.” There was a brief pause. “Oh yeah, call Mom. She keeps bugging me for news about you.”
“End message,” the automated voice said.
Laura Dell pressed repeat. She listened to her brother’s voice, hearing the humor behind it. How can he be so happy talking to a machine? She played the message again, reveling in the sound of it. After the fourth time listening to it she pressed delete to save her sanity.
“Message deleted,” the automated voice toned. “No more messages.”

Laura Dell woke up the next morning not feeling rested at all. Her sheets were all kicked out and her comforter lay in a heap on the floor. She had had dreams that kept her tossing and turning. Dreams about her father.
A hot cup of coffee after a hot shower helped to bring her out of her funk. However little better she felt was replaced with guilt over not checking in on Herbert yesterday. She called the hospital to see if he was still there.
“Yes he is,” the nurse said. “Would you like me to connect you to him?”
“No that’s alright,” Laura Dell answered. “Thank you, but I have to go. Goodbye.”
She didn’t like that she couldn’t talk to him but she had to hurry to work. She decided she would go visit him today during her lunch break and apologize for not coming by last night.

Laura Dell got to work early for once. She hadn’t planned it and she didn’t notice a pick up in her pace but she was glad it happened. Mr. Feinman happened to be walking by the door when she entered and was surprised.
“Miss Dell, glad you could be here on time. Though, I suppose it was bound to happen one of these days.”
Laura Dell couldn’t think of a polite response to that so she said nothing.
“I must admit that I take it as a good sign. Your attitude yesterday left something to be desired and when I overheard someone mention a dazed woman in the Tyrannosaurus Rex exhibit I naturally thought of you. I believe ‘lurking’ is the word that was used. But here you are ready to work.”
Laura Dell still didn’t respond. She didn’t want to explain herself to this petty man. All he cares about is his museum and how it reflects on him. He wouldn’t care that Herbert’s in the hospital dieing. She simply smiled and walked past him. She didn’t look back to see if he was finished talking or if he cared that she had walked away from him. She turned her mind to work and dove into it.
It was around eleven o’clock when a man she thought she recognized smiled at her from across the hall and walked over to her. Laura Dell couldn’t quite remember where she had seen him but knew that she should.
“Miss Dell, right?” he asked.
“Yes?” she answered
“Hi, I’m Rupert Dresden. I don’t think we were properly introduced but I am a friend of Dr. Walters.”
“Oh that’s right. You helped us catch the bird yesterday.”
“Yes, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Talk to me about?”
“Well, it’s just that yesterday you seemed to be concerned about it and its twisted foot.”
“Yes I remember. Is it ok?”
“It is a little too early to tell but I got it set in a splint and looks to be doing well.”
“That’s good news. I would hate for it to have to be put down. Especially since I am pretty much to blame”
“I wouldn’t say you’re to blame. Anyway, my colleague and I were wondering if you would like to keep it if it gets better.”
“Keep it? Would it make a good pet?”
“No. In fact most consider its species to be a pest and would buy a cat just to get rid of it.”
“I see, then why offer?”
“You seemed to have a connection to it and sometimes people are funny about things like that.”
They were both silent a while.
“So if you were interested I thought I would just leave my office number in case.” “That would be alright. Maybe I will check on it.”