chance to see a rare specimen of
Amanita bisporigera
, which just popped up after the last rain. Bring boots and rain gear. It could get muddy.”
Even from behind, Julian “Rat” Perkins was easy to spot among the two dozen students gathered around Professor Pasquantonio’s demonstration table. At sixteen, he was already built like a man, with broad shoulders that had grown even more muscular since she’d last seen him. She’d relied on those same shoulders last winter, when together they’d struggled to survive in the Wyoming mountains, a battle that had forged a deep and lasting bond between them. Julian was as close to a son as she would ever know, and she saw with pride how straight he stood, how attentive he seemed, even as Professor Pasquantonio droned on in a voice that whined like a mosquito.
“I want all your plant toxicity reports turned in by Friday, before most of you leave for the trip to Quebec. And don’t forget we have the mushroom identification quiz on Wednesday. Class dismissed.”
Turning to leave, Julian glimpsed Maura and his face lit up with a grin. In two steps he crossed to her, his arms already spreading to give her a hug. But at the last instant, aware that his classmates were watching, he seemed to think better of it and she had to settle instead for a quick peck on the cheek, a clumsy clap on the shoulders.
“You finally got here! I’ve been waiting for you all afternoon.”
“Well, now we have two whole weeks together.” She brushed the dark forelock off his face and her hand lingered on his cheek, where she was startled to feel the first hint of a beard. He was growing up far too fast.
He blushed at her touch, and she realized that some of the students had not left the room but were standing around, watching. Most teenagers ignored the very existence of adults, but Julian’s classmates seemed intrigued by this alien visitor to their world. They ranged from middle school to high school age, and their clothing ran the gamut as well, from a blond girl with torn blue jeans to a boy wearing dress slacks and an oxford shirt. All of them were staring at Maura.
“You’re the medical examiner,” said a girl in a mini skirt. “We heard you were coming.”
Maura smiled. “Julian mentioned me?”
“Like, just about all the time. Are you going to teach a class?”
“A class?” She looked at Julian. “I hadn’t planned to.”
“We wanted to hear about forensic pathology,” piped up an Asian boy. “In biology, we dissected frogs and fetal pigs, but that was just normal anatomy. It’s not like the cool stuff you do with dead people.”
Maura glanced around at the eager faces. Like so much of the public, their imaginations were probably fueled by too many TV cop shows and crime novels. “I’m not sure that topic would be appropriate,” Maura said.
“Because we’re kids?”
“Forensic pathology is a subject usually taught to medical students. Even most adults find the subject disturbing.”
“We wouldn’t,” the Asian boy said. “But maybe Julian didn’t tell you who we are.”
What you are is
odd
, Maura thought as she watched Julian’s classmates exit, their exodus marked by shuffling shoes and creaking floors. In the silence that followed, Bear gave a bored whine and trotted over to lick Julian’s hand.
“
Who we are?
What did he mean by that?” asked Maura.
It was the teacher who answered. “Like far too many of his classmates, young Mr. Chinn often engages his mouth before his brain. There’s little point trying to decode any deeper meaning to adolescent babbling.” The man peered sourly at Maura over his spectacles. “I’m Professor Pasquantonio. Julian told us you would be visiting this week, Dr. Isles.” He glanced at the boy, and his lips twitched in a half smile. “He’s a fine student, by the way. Needs work with his writing skills, hopelessly bad at spelling. But better than anyone at spotting unusual botanical specimens in the
Amanita bisporigera
, which just popped up after the last rain. Bring boots and rain gear. It could get muddy.”
Even from behind, Julian “Rat” Perkins was easy to spot among the two dozen students gathered around Professor Pasquantonio’s demonstration table. At sixteen, he was already built like a man, with broad shoulders that had grown even more muscular since she’d last seen him. She’d relied on those same shoulders last winter, when together they’d struggled to survive in the Wyoming mountains, a battle that had forged a deep and lasting bond between them. Julian was as close to a son as she would ever know, and she saw with pride how straight he stood, how attentive he seemed, even as Professor Pasquantonio droned on in a voice that whined like a mosquito.
“I want all your plant toxicity reports turned in by Friday, before most of you leave for the trip to Quebec. And don’t forget we have the mushroom identification quiz on Wednesday. Class dismissed.”
Turning to leave, Julian glimpsed Maura and his face lit up with a grin. In two steps he crossed to her, his arms already spreading to give her a hug. But at the last instant, aware that his classmates were watching, he seemed to think better of it and she had to settle instead for a quick peck on the cheek, a clumsy clap on the shoulders.
“You finally got here! I’ve been waiting for you all afternoon.”
“Well, now we have two whole weeks together.” She brushed the dark forelock off his face and her hand lingered on his cheek, where she was startled to feel the first hint of a beard. He was growing up far too fast.
He blushed at her touch, and she realized that some of the students had not left the room but were standing around, watching. Most teenagers ignored the very existence of adults, but Julian’s classmates seemed intrigued by this alien visitor to their world. They ranged from middle school to high school age, and their clothing ran the gamut as well, from a blond girl with torn blue jeans to a boy wearing dress slacks and an oxford shirt. All of them were staring at Maura.
“You’re the medical examiner,” said a girl in a mini skirt. “We heard you were coming.”
Maura smiled. “Julian mentioned me?”
“Like, just about all the time. Are you going to teach a class?”
“A class?” She looked at Julian. “I hadn’t planned to.”
“We wanted to hear about forensic pathology,” piped up an Asian boy. “In biology, we dissected frogs and fetal pigs, but that was just normal anatomy. It’s not like the cool stuff you do with dead people.”
Maura glanced around at the eager faces. Like so much of the public, their imaginations were probably fueled by too many TV cop shows and crime novels. “I’m not sure that topic would be appropriate,” Maura said.
“Because we’re kids?”
“Forensic pathology is a subject usually taught to medical students. Even most adults find the subject disturbing.”
“We wouldn’t,” the Asian boy said. “But maybe Julian didn’t tell you who we are.”
What you are is
odd
, Maura thought as she watched Julian’s classmates exit, their exodus marked by shuffling shoes and creaking floors. In the silence that followed, Bear gave a bored whine and trotted over to lick Julian’s hand.
“
Who we are?
What did he mean by that?” asked Maura.
It was the teacher who answered. “Like far too many of his classmates, young Mr. Chinn often engages his mouth before his brain. There’s little point trying to decode any deeper meaning to adolescent babbling.” The man peered sourly at Maura over his spectacles. “I’m Professor Pasquantonio. Julian told us you would be visiting this week, Dr. Isles.” He glanced at the boy, and his lips twitched in a half smile. “He’s a fine student, by the way. Needs work with his writing skills, hopelessly bad at spelling. But better than anyone at spotting unusual botanical specimens in the
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