Chapter Nine: A Lack of Sleep

As the three shared jokes over a culminating cup of coffee, Laura Dell felt a sense of relief that they had dined so cordially. Laura Dell and Dr. Walters had managed to engage in a convesation for over three hours talking about everything but science. This interaction was unforeseen to Laura Dell and it pleased her to know she had found such a good friend in this big city. John William had exhibited his best southern manners, which made Laura Dell proud that he had represented their family well. She felt she had begun to compromise for the many rude shortcomings and desertion of chivalry in Chicago. She overlooked the swinging doors and neglect of social normalcy found in every Southern identity. Normally her mother would have scolded her for abandoning "Yes sir" and "No sir", with Herbert. A man much elder then she, Laura Dell know the appropriate way to speak with a man of his age. But she had depreciated that long standing mannerism with him. She saw him as a young soul, therefore, she engaged with him in such a way.



"So Herb, is it OK if I call you that?" John William had never known a stranger in his life.



"Sure John, you can call me whatever you like."



"Tell me about your family, do they live around here?"



Herbert's face swelled, his coloring turned to a debilitated shade of ivory. His charitable and warm spirit evaporated virtually into thin air, as he cluthched his cane tightly, drying the palm of his hand on his pant leg. John William waited with baited breath as he sipped his coffee.



"No. I live alone." Just like that, John William knew not to press the issue any farther.



***

Laura Dell awoke to the radiating smell of warm biscuits, deep fried bacon, and all the delights of a "nutritious" Alabama breakfast. John William had pointed out to her innumerable times how frail she had become, and had insisted that she best indulge in the culturally ample cuisine availble in Chicago. She switched the light on in the bathoom, and was greeted by her beaming reflection. Pale and thin, yet surprisingly well rested. She had been grateful for the days off Mr. FFeinman had given her, yet she knew John William's visit would surely set her back a day or so.



John William hovered over the frying pan humming along to an Alan Jackson song playing on the radio. Although he never really could hold a tune, his singing voice and blissful nature was utterly contagious, forcing a smirk upon Laura Dell's face.



"Mornin' sis! Thought I'd plump ya up a little. Southern men like a little mean on the bones, not like all these Chicago boys, wouldn't know a real woman if she hooked him in the jaw." John William had always insisted that the South was far more civilized and blessed then any "hoity-toity" place like Chicago. Laura Dell knew immediately upon meeting Mr. Feinman that John William might consider him the anti-Christ.



"Thank you. Breakfast has mainly consisted of a grab and go granola bar and a coffee for God knows how long."



As they sat on the couch, watching the morning news about a man getting shot, and a woman robbed all within a 3 mile radius of Laura Dell's apartment, she could tell something was pressing on John William's mind. She thought definitely it concerned him that she had been living alone in Chicago, and she recognized the concerning expression. After their father died, Laura Dell entertained John William's fatherly advice and superior guidance as means of his coping and persistence for closure. This overprotective nature and patriarchy existed in most Southern households, which comforted Laura Dell. John William had once threated to fight Laura Dell's close childhood friend Heath who lived on their street. Heath and Laura Dell had been inseparable since youth, and had confined in one another whole heartedly. Heath and Laura Dell had still remained close friends, as she had mapped out a train route to go visit him and his boyfriend Jack in New York City before the culmination of her internship. John William still insisted that Heath was too interested in Laura Dell.

"So, I wanted to ask you, what exactly is Herb's deal? I mean, he just hangs around the museum all the time? Surely he is like a patron or something?"

No, he is a retired ornithologist. He just likes to spend time in the museum. We have actually become quite close. He's been a really good friend to me since I've been here." John William seemed to take a rather large bite of a biscuit, followed by a mild choking spell. He flushed down his arising judgments with a sip of orange juice.

"It just seems to me that a retired old man like that should have better things to do then sit in the same museum every single day. I mean, doesn't he have kids of his own? Don't his kids have kids?"

Laura Dell realized that she knew next to nothing about Herbert's history, ornithology and academia aside. She felt embarassed that John William had questioned and tested their relationship, as she stood unarmed with no good retaliation or defense. He never spoke of family, or wives, or companions for that matter. He seemed to lead a pretty lonely existence the more and more she thought about it, it surprised her that she had neglected to pry into his life sooner. She had been so willing and eager to share her story with Herbert and wondered why he had not done the same. She pulled on her coat and stepped onto the elevator, preparing to brave the cold. Herbert inhabited her every thought. She was anxious to get to the museum to talk to him, a sensation that began to consume her more and more frequently, each time growing in strength. Laura Dell found herself weaving in and out of her own thoughts, as the elevator light beamed and sounded with the descending floors.

***

Immediately upon arrival, Laura Dell hit the floor to look for Herbert. She was oblivious to the large group of tourists that were congregating in the foyer outside Sue's place. Had she not looked twice, she could have mistaken then for a pack of wild animals, an appropriate Sue snack she thought to herself. She walked hastily around the floor, apprehensively scouring every inch of marble for Dr. Walters. She heard a faint clanking coming from behind. As she whipped around, she noticed an aged woman bracing herself on a walker that made the most pestering sound against the museum floor. A disturbance that would no doubt have irritated Herbert. Laura Dell wondered to herself, just how archaic one must be to obtain such a walker. The older woman too had the same restless and eager nature about her. She seemed very intent in her search, as was Laura Dell. Increasingly, she found the woman to possess more youth then age. She walked along with a slight bob, swiftfully dancing with her balancing aid. Laura Dell paced toward her. She seemed blissfully unaware of anyone else in the building, either intentional or on account of prehistoric disillusionment.

"Hi mam, can I help you with anything today?" Laura Dell greeted her with a friendly smile.

"I'd recognize an accent like that anywhere! Where you from darlin'?" She was a short, stocky woman, plesantly plump to be exact, with the looks of early sixties; much younger then Herbert if Laura Dell had judged her right. She had done-up beautiful blonde hair in a French twist, and emitted an intoxicating scent of hair spray, a recognizable sense to Laura Dell from the woman in Siloam.

"Alabama, mam. Are you from down South as well?"

"Born and raised Baton Rouge! Nothing like it in the whole world I tell ya! The names Trudy. Trudy Feinman. My son runs this joint! Real fancy place if you ask me, not much like it down in Baton Rouge."

The word Feinman ran circles through and through her head again, like her echo had late at night when she sounded off in the museum to herself. She had not understood why Mr. Feinman had ridiculed her about adopting civilized lifestyle and abandoning the ignorant ways of her inferior roots. No longer were the details of Mr. Feinman's meticulous nature important to her. Laura Dell had been convinced her entire life that there didn't exist a southerner who wasn't loud and proud about it. Mr. Feinman had fooled her all along.

"Yes mam, he's..." as she was about to explain the professional association between her and Trudy's son, she heard an exasperating cry coming from the "Authorized Personnel Only" doors about 100 yards away.

"Mother! I told you to wait at the house! You shouldn't be walking around with that thing!"

Laura Dell had taken offense to Mr. Feinman's belitting and authoritative tone from the commencement of her internship. She didnt necessarily resent him, but she wasn't planning on orchestrating any sort of relations either.

"Oh Lord, here we go." Trudy chuckled to herself and looked to Laura Dell for a smile. "Does he talk to you like this? Being a pretty little thing and all. I swear to it, me and his daddy taught him better!"

As Mr. Feinman hiked toward them, Laura Dell caught a glimpse of a familar old face gazing up at Sue, admiring every fraction of her colossal being. The clatter of Mr. Feinman and Trudy subdued, as she bee lined for Herbert. She walked with the utmost intention, stumbling over herself twice before reaching him. She placed her hand on his should, as he turned up to look at her. His eyes were an inflated red and dark circles consumed his complexion. Something troublesom had robbed him of sleep that night. Laura Dell was sure of it.