Chapter 17: Of Theaters and Birds

Laura Dell paced around the room. She looked at her clock, which blinked 7:41. She sat down and waited, trying not to wrinkle her black pleated skirt. “How silly am I,” she said to herself while one idle hand twirled a few strands of hair, “that I worry about wrinkles forming on a skirt that’s made to look wrinkled?”

Laura Dell lifted her legs to examine her black, low heeled pumps. A friend had once told her they were sometimes called court shoes, and it had given Laura Dell a regal feeling, but now she wondered if they matched her outfit. She sighed and looked at the clock once more. It was 7:42.

She stood up and went and checked herself in the mirror. “Of course they match,” she said. “And they fit, too. Nice and modest. Herbert will like them.” She smiled at herself in the mirror, but then threw her hands up in the air. “Ah! I sound like my mother.”

Just then the doorbell rang. Laura Dell checked the clock once more as she walked to the door. It was still 7:42. “Plenty of time,” she thought.

She reached out and unlocked the door, and when she looked out, she found Herbert standing there, short top hat, black tuxedo, and all, leaning on his cane. She had imagined him in the outfit, but had not expected to see him as such.

Herbert smiled as he looked at her. “Never are enough chances to wear one of these,” he said. Then he looked down at his clothing and back to Laura Dell with a raised eyebrow. “It isn’t stained, is it?”

Laura Dell looked up from his tuxedo. “What? No, why?” she replied.

Herbert grinned. “You were staring,” he said. “Come now. Surely you’ve seen a man in a tuxedo before. But really, Miss Dell, we should hurry.” He picked up his cane and tipped his hat to her. “The taxi cab took a little while longer to acquire than I originally thought. Shall we?” He offered her his arm, which she took as she blushed.

When they reached the “cab,” Laura Dell stared once more. Herbert, on the other hand, laughed. “Really, Laura, I fail to believe that you’ve never seen a limousine, either.” The chauffer opened the rear door for them. “Now you see why I was so late.” The two quickly took their seats and were off to the theater.

***

Laura Dell and Herbert Walters exited the theater after the show arm-in-arm.
“It was lovely,” said Laura Dell as the two walked through the crowd to their limousine. “I’ve never been to a theater so grand before. Back in Siloam, we don’t even have a movie theater, let alone a place for performance. Unless, of course, it’s in the Siloam Baptist Church. But that’s nothing compared to the Chicago Theatre.”

Herbert, as usual, smiled. “Yes, it is quite a venue. It rivals any theater on Broadway, although I imagine the content of the shows here are much different than those found in the Siloam Baptist Church.” The two arrived at the limousine and seated themselves inside, where in Herbert told the driver to “drive to the wonderful Miss Laura Dell’s palace” before turning back to Laura Dell.
“Now tell me, Laura, what did you think of the musical?”

Laura Dell collected her thoughts. “The sets were amazing. The costumes were wonderful. The singing was magnificent. Without even talking about the story, it’s already great.” She grinned. “What did you think, Herbert?”

Herbert nodded for a moment, furrowing his brows and looking out the window in playful consideration. “Hmm. Well,” he began his reply, looking back to Laura Dell and winking, “it is historically inaccurate, of course.” He chuckled as Laura Dell swatted at his shoulder.

“Oh, come on Herbert. It wasn’t the museum. It was a musical in a theatre. Of course it was inaccurate. You can’t compare a musical to the truth. They’re just for fun. How else would you explain Cats?”

“Now Miss Dell,” Herbert said in mock surprise. “I thought you said there was no theater in Siloam, Alabama.”

Laura Dell grinned. “Just because there isn’t a theater in Siloam doesn’t mean I never went to one before.” Her expression changed as she blushed slightly and turned to look out the window. “I just wanted you to learn a little more about where I come from, is all.”

Herbert nodded. “Siloam, Alabama. First sighted during the Cretaceous period, the Siloamus alabamius was said to be—”

“Herbert!” cried Laura Dell in between fits of laughter. Herbert joined her in the act. The two continued their conversation until they had arrived at Laura Dell’s apartment.

Ever trapped in a perpetual grin for the remainder of the evening, Laura Dell finally climbed out of the limousine when it pulled up before her apartment. Herbert followed her example and left the confines of the limousine, taking the opportunity to walk her back to her door.

“Thank you for a wonderful time Herbert,” said Laura Dell, twirling a piece of hair with her finger.

“Nonsense. It is I who should be thanking you. Or really, we should be thanking your brother. Without his help, we would have had no tickets, and would have had to go to another bar, or listen to Feinman babbling on about the cleanliness of a screw head.” Herbert placed special emphasis on the last word.

Laura Dell smiled. “Well, hopefully, between straightening everything and trying to catch our little dinosaur, I’ll get to see you tomorrow.”

Herbert nodded his consent. “I’m sure I’ll be there with Sue. After all, old birds of a feather flock together. But speaking of your problem, I am not sure why it did not occur to me before, what with my ties to the Chicago Ornithological Society, but I may have a solution for you to try. Tomorrow, I’ll bring two of my colleagues, and we shall go about solving this bird issue.”

“Thank you, Herbert. I’ll look forward to it.” The two embraced each other. “Have a good night, Herbert.”

“Have a good night, Laura.” They let go, and Herbert walked back to the limosine while Laura Dell unlocked and entered her apartment.

***

The following morning, Laura Dell arrived early at work to find Feinman, Herbert, and two young men (by comparison, as they were in their late thirties) carrying duffle bags standing outside the museum as though they were waiting for someone. She could hear Feinman’s voice as she approached.

“Absolutely not. I will not hear of it. No, no, no, no, no.”

“But Dr. Feinman, really, it will be completely unobtrusive to your visitors. In fact, many will actually enjoy seeing this activity take place.” It was Herbert who made the reply. Laura Dell gave him a questioning look as she walked up the steps towards them.

“What’s going on?” she asked as she approached.

Feinman glared at her. “Did you tell him he could do this?” he asked.

“Do what?”

One of the younger men spoke up. “Mist netting,” he said, holding up a duffle bag.

“What’s mist netting?” Laura Dell asked, looking back and forth between the group, giving them all a very quizzical look.

Herbert cleared his throat. “The solution to your,” he turned and looked at Feinman for a moment before turning back to Laura Dell, “and Dr. Feinman’s little bird problem. You see, it’s a process in which you place a mist net made of nylon to capture birds. Usually, you use a large piece of net, but we would use smaller pieces to, as I have assured Dr. Feinman, not distract the visitors from the exhibits.”

The other of the two younger men spoke at this point. “You have to have a license in order to conduct such an operation as this, as well as trained personnel in order to extract the bird from the netting without causing any undue harm. With such personnel, mist netting is the most effective way of capturing birds without exterminating them in the process.”

“Which is why our good Dr. Feinman was just about to agree to let us set up shop, so to speak,” said Herbert. “After all, it’s the most effective way.”

Feinman’s eyes burned holes into Herbert’s back as he grumbled, “Fine. Do it.” He turned to Laura Dell. “But you had better construct careful signs of apology concerning the obtrusive nature of such an event, and place them with the utmost visibility where ever these nets are placed. And then you will stand between such signs and personally apologize to every visitor who looks at the nets.” With that, Feinman turned and marched into the Museum.

One of the two men turned to the other and asked, “I wonder what crawled up his ass and died?” The other man chuckled. Meanwhile, Laura Dell smiled at Herbert.

“Well, you weren’t kidding about solving the bird problem. But how did you manage to do it so quickly?” she asked him.

“When I arrived home last night, I sent an e-mail to the current head of the Society. It’s amazing, really, how quickly it all works. But, I suppose, that is the ever changing role of nature. One moment, Sue walks the earth. The next, humans communicate instantly about bird catching via e-mail. Regardless, I received a most helpful reply early this morning, and now here we are.” He leaned forward on his cane. “Now, let’s go find Eddie. He’ll help us set up before the visitors arrive.”

Chapter Five: Meetings

Dr. Feinman uncrossed his arms and pointed towards a chair in his office. “Inside, Ms. Dell.” Laura Dell couldn’t help but hang her head as she walked past Dr. Feinman, into his office. Feinman followed her in, shutting the door behind them.

“Sit,” he said as he walked around his desk, which was completely devoid of any signs of use, save for a nameplate and a red pen. Laura Dell watched the pen as she sat down in the chair, unable to bring her gaze up to meet Dr. Feinman’s. Feinman saw where she was looking.

“Can I ask you a question, Ms. Dell? I can, as it is you who are the intern and I am your boss. Do you know why I only have one pen on my desk, Ms. Dell?” Mr. Deinman asked in a low voice and then waited for her response.

“No, sir.” Laura Dell began wringing her hands.

“It is because this desk has only one place to put one pen.” Dr. Feinman’s voice was still low. Laura Dell’s gaze shifted to her hands as she sat, shoulder’s hunched forward, trying to become smaller.

“And since the desk has only one place for one pen, if I put two pens on my desk, my desk would be out of order.” Feinman’s voice was starting to rise with each sentance.

“And if my desk were out of order, then my office would be out of order,” Feinman continued. “And if my office were out of order, I would be out of order. And do you know what happens when I am out of order, Ms. Dell?” Feinman waited for her reply.

Laura Dell’s voice was fainter than before. “No, sir.”

“Then My Museum is out of order!” Feinman shouted. Laura Dell winced. “You ruin my exhibit on the first day, you embarrass me in front of loyal patrons, and then you disregard my orders and show up late to a scheduled meeting!”

“But sir, I was—” Laura Dell attempted to defend herself.

“I don’t need your excuses, Ms. Dell. This isn’t rural Alabama. This is Chicago, where people are civilized and act intelligently and orderly. And this,” Dr. Feinman jabbed the pointer finger of his right hand into his desk, “is the Field Museum of Natural History, the pinnacle of intelligence and order.”

Feinman’s voice regrew its composure. “You are going to have to abandon your ignorant practices and learn to cope with life in civilized society, Ms. Dell. Now, tomorrow I expect that there will be no misfortunate incidents. We wouldn’t want to be saying goodbye to Chicago just after we reached its glorious majesty, now would we? Hmm?” Feinman looked Laura Dell straight in the face, and waited once more for her to answer.

Laura Dell had at first been scared of Dr. Feinman, but now felt a mix of anger and indignation. She set her teeth together as she responded, “No, sir.”

Feinman sat back in his large, leather chair and crossed his arms over his lap. “Good, Ms. Dell.” He smiled and motioned towards the door. “You can go now.”

Laura Dell stood and left the office, making her way towards her own desk to retrieve her purse before going home.

***

Laura Dell shoved the door of the museum open and burst forward into the cold Chicago air, almost knocking Dr. Walters down the steps in the process. He relied on his feet, not his cane, to save his balance.

“Oh, Dr. Walters! I’m so sorry” said Laura Dell, grabbing onto his arm to make sure he wasn’t going to fall over again, after he’d steadied himself.

“It’s fine, Miss Dell. How did your meeting go?” Dr. Walters gave Laura Dell a reassuring smile.

“Terribly. But why are you still here, Dr. Walters? The museum closed fifteen minutes ago.” She gave him a questioning look.

Dr. Walters gave his familiar chuckle. “Well, we didn’t finish our conversation. You see, Miss Dell, an unfinished conversation is like a fossil only half revealed.” Dr. Walters motioned with his cane as though he were brushing sand off an imaginary fossil on the ground. “You have to finish the process, or else the fossil may be damaged or destroyed by abrasive elements in the wind.” He set his cane down and leaned on it ever so slightly.

Laura Dell nodded her consent but frowned. “But what were we talking about? After being yelled at, I’ve forgotten.”

Dr. Walters looked at his surroundings as though he were deep in thought. “Well, Miss Dell, I’ll just have to remind you over dinner, then.”

Laura Dell took a small step back, still holding on to Dr. Walters’ arm. As she was forming her reply, Dr. Walters said, “Now, now Miss Dell. I realize it must seem that I’m as old as Sue, so rest assured I’m asking you as a friend, and not as a creepy, old Quetzalcoatlus.” Both chuckled at Dr. Walters’ joke, and Laura Dell relaxed once more.

“So, let’s meet around nine o’clock at a favorite pub of mine, the Dead Yellowhammer. Ah, Miss Dell, I can see from your facial expression that you already know why I like it. They are even so technologically advanced as to have a website with directions, so you should be able to find it easily.” Laura Dell nodded her consent and finally let go of Dr. Walters’ arm.

“I’ll see you then,” she said.

***

Laura Dell walked into the Dead Yellowhammer at nine-oh-five and saw Dr. Walters sitting at a table covered by a few beers and a huge basket of potato wedges with, to her surprise, Eddie. They waved her over.

As she sat down next to across from Dr. Walters, she gave him a questioning look. “As I told you,” Dr. Walters said with a smile, “this isn’t a date.” Eddie laughed and gave her a sly look.

“Really, Miss Dell. Herbert’s over 70,” said Eddie. Laura Dell blushed and shot them both angry glares.

“Alright, alright. I wouldn’t want to date this old Pterosaur anyway,” she said as Eddie pushed a glass of roan beer towards her. “What’s this?”

“Southern Pecan ale. It comes from a micro-brewery in Mississippi,” said Dr. Walters. “I may be a Pterosaur, but I still know a little about beer. Now, Miss Dell, take a sip and tell us more about what our dear Dr. Feinman said in your meeting.”

“Oh, the nerve of that man,” said Laura Dell as she thought back. “He acted like he owned everything in the museum, and if one simple thing were out of order, the entire thing would come crashing down.” She looked between Eddie and Dr. Walters. “He called the South uncivilized. He threatened my job. He acts as if order is the saving grace of all humanity.” Her gaze shifted back to Dr. Walters. “He used ‘can’ improperly.” Dr. Walters gave a sympathetic wince.

“Well,” Eddie said, “at least he didn’t start trying to flirt with you like the intern from last year.” Laura Dell sipped her beer and gave Eddie a look of disbelief, but Eddie just shook his head. “I’ve worked at the museum for a long time now, Miss Dell, and I’ve seen Feinman do some pretty raunchy things. But if you keep your head about you, and learn to stand up to him, you’ll probably do alright.” He nodded his head at his own wisdom.

Laura Dell didn’t feel as assured as Eddie. “I’m just not going to screw up any more. That’s the most obvious solution. Still, he reminds me of the boss I had at a job in high school, always barking orders and never doing any of his own work.” She took another sip of beer, as Dr. Walters pushed the basket of potato wedges towards her.

She ate one, then continued, “But why are both of you here?”

“When you visit the museum almost every day as I do,” said Dr. Walters, “you tend to make friends with everyone who works there who isn’t what some would call a humbug.” Dr. Walters used his fingers to emphasize the word. “But for Eddie, well, I worked with his father some time ago.”

Laura Dell looked at Eddie accusingly. “Why didn’t you tell me all that when I asked about him before?”

Eddie shrugged. “Well, Miss Dell, I didn’t know you were going to go chasing after old Pterosaurs.” Eddie drank from his glass to hide the smile that crept across his face.

“So what did you and Eddie’s father do together?” asked Laura Dell, looking back at Dr. Walters.

Dr. Walters looked at the cane as it leaned on the table. “Well, when I met Eddie’s father, it was in the early 1940’s. Even my dreams of being a paleontologist had to be put on hold during that era.”

Eddie took up the story. “From the way I heard it from my mother, my father was career, while Herbert here was just doing his duty at the time. After the war, my father gave me to my mother, and then went off to Korea. He didn’t come back, but he and Herbert here kept in touch after the Pacific. First time I met Herbert was at my father’s funeral. But, that’s an old story. Now, how’s that beer we got for you, Miss Dell?”