Read Online The Darwin Conspiracy by John Darnton - Free Book Online

that.”
    “I heard that you were a bartender. And then you did something out west, didn’t you? Picking apples, forest ranger, something dramatically adolescent like that?”
    He let it ride and sipped his beer.
    “And you went to that strange place—what’s it called? One of those islands in Galápagos.”
    “Sin Nombre.”
    “That’s it. No wonder I can’t remember it. And did your man Darwin visit there too?”
    “No. It’s only a small island. There’s a research project there, looking at Darwin’s finches, measuring them—the length of their beaks, that sort of thing—to see how they change when conditions change.”
    “I see. Measuring bird beaks. And you were doing this for a degree?”
    “Yes. Well, I was. But I didn’t finish my time there. It was actually kind of rough—in the sense of depressing. I left.”
    “You left? Meaning what—you washed out?”
    “You could put it that way.”
    “So you never got your degree?”
    “No, not yet. I talked to my adviser—he’s at Cornell—and I told him I wanted to come here, maybe write something about Darwin.”
    “I see.”
    “Trouble is, so much has been written about him. It’s hard to imagine coming up with something new, not to mention earth-shattering.”
    “Uh-huh.” She was quiet, thinking, but only for a moment. “I bet your dad’s glad he spent all that money for you to go to college.”
    He stared at her, hard. She had always been proud of her insensitiv-ity and she was always presumptuous, insisting she had the right to give him advice like an older sister. Any minute now she would start talking about his brother.
    “It didn’t cost so much. Not like Harvard.” He realized it was a weak comeback and she paid it no mind.
    “Listen to me, Hugh,” she said, leaning forward. “From what I heard, you’re just drifting. You’re what—thirty years old?”
    “Twenty-eight.”
    “Twenty-eight. Don’t you think it’s time—”
    “For what? To get over it, you mean?”
    “Well, yes. Others have.”
    “Like you.”
    “Like me.”
    “What do you mean, ‘from what I heard’? Who are you talking to, anyway?”
    “People. The world’s not such a big place, you know.”
    He looked down at her wedding ring. His father had told him about that too.
    “Yes, I’ve married. And I’m reasonably content.” She paused. “I wouldn’t say I don’t think of your brother from time to time—I think of him often, as a matter of fact. But one has to get on with one’s life.
    That’s not being heartless, it’s just realistic. The world really does go on, you know. That may be a cliché, but it’s true nonetheless. You have to get on with things.”
    “I know that, but—you know—it’s different with me.”
    “Because you always thought he was better than you. And because you think you’re responsible for his death.”
    He was too stunned to speak. He’d known it was a mistake to sit down with her.
    “I’m sorry to talk like this, Hugh. But somebody has to. You’ve got to get over this. It’s absurd for you to blame yourself. It wasn’t your fault, for God’s sake. Everyone knows that.”
    “Everyone wasn’t there. I was.”
    As he spoke, the loop of memory played in his mind again—the rocks, the waterfall, the shadow of the falling body and the pool of bubbles looking odd in the shaft of sunlight.
    He willed her to talk again, if only to interrupt his thoughts, and she didn’t disappoint him.
    “You know, self-pity doesn’t get you anywhere. And it’s very unat-tractive, especially on you, Hugh, of all people. You’re young. You’re handsome. God, half the women I know were in love with you.”
    He wanted to bring the encounter to an end.
    “Where were they when I needed them?” he said, with a half smile.
    He looked at his watch.
    “Someplace to go?” she asked.
    “Yes, as a matter of fact. I’ve only got a few minutes more.” He took another sip of beer. He wanted another one, but more than that