My Evil Twin Chapter 3
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I stopped for a bite, went home, began reading the Rose and went to bed. In the morning, I walked into the “lounge” at the Lab and was greeted by a wave of applause.
“What’s up?”
“You’re a hero!” one of the blokes said.
“Are you whacko?”
“You’re all over the TV. Didn’t you see the news?””
“I don’t have a TV.”
“You’re kidding!”
“Nope. Anyhow, tell me what you guys are talking about.”
Apparently, Channel Nine had broadcast Jason’s ‘interview.’ It must have been really slow news day as it was repeated on the ten o’clock and again in the morning. By morning they had a snippet from the physician in Hobart, so I was an entomological wonder: a government agent who flew around the country rescuing young women.
“Oh, my God!” I exclaimed.
“Was she cute?”
“I honestly didn’t notice. Quite young. She said she was second year.”
“Under 20, most likely.”
“Just what I need! Well, it’ll blow over soon.”
It didn’t. Janice phoned to tell me how pleased Kevin was. Then some butter-voice woman called to ask whether I’d do an “on camera” for ABC. I asked what that entailed and immediately regretted asking. After she had delivered herself of a peroration, I told her I’d ask my “boss” and could she call back?
“Tomorrow morning?”
“OK.”
“That’s Thursday the 15th.”
“Right.”
I walked over to see Janice. I told her my story and she asked whether I’d mind being interviewed.
“She can’t hurt me.”
“No. And the PR would really do all of us good.”
“Seriously?”
“Absolutely. The Ministry will love it. You might end up with a gong.”
“Too young. Anyway, she’ll call back tomorrow.”
“Who was it?”
“Dunno. Didn’t ask her name.”
“Dummy!”
“Where are they? Do you know?”
“ABC? In Dickson. Near ARENA.”
“That’s no help. I’ll ask when she calls. You’ll tell Kevin?”
“‘Course.”
“OK. I’m off to lunch and then back on campus to rescue maidens.” She laughed.
Back at the Research School of Biology, Jane greeted me with “Lo! The conquering hero!”
“Very funny.”
“Bashful? When the kids find out what you’re teaching, the enrollment’ll double!”
“You’re kidding me!”
“No, Dr. Hollister. You’ve had greatness thrust upon you.”
“I’m not wearing yellow stockings,” I said, showing that I recognized her Shakespeare allusion.
“And there you are! You’re young, you’ve got a doctorate, you’re literate, and you’re celebrated for rescuing maidens. Right out of a bad romance.”
“Sounds awful when you put it that way.”
“You’re every suburban mother’s dream!”
“That’s revolting! Will the ‘whirligig of time’ bring its revenges?”
“Perhaps. But it’s true.”
I sighed. “Well, do you have my stuff for 2113?”
Jane produced a large Woolworth’s carrier bag from next to her desk. “Here you are, I hope you can carry it.”
“No prob. I’ll be back after the holiday.”
“Right. What do you call it?”
“In Sydney, it was Australia Day; in Brisbane it was Occupation Day. I now work for the federal government in the nation’s capitol. So it’s Australia Day.”
“Very pragmatic. And your thoughts?”
“Are my own. See you in ten days or so.”
The colonization of Australia can be characterized by death and denial. Denial persists, engendering complicity in the past. It involves both strident refusal and blind indifference – but in every case the result is concealed. Hidden Histories contains stories of massacres and murders, of the working life on Northern cattle stations, of the machinations of bureaucracy, of outright rape, and of individual struggles.
I spent most of the next ten days looking over the course timetable, reading the supplementary materials and reading the (small) book on fossils. I’d read an earlier edition of Animals without Backbones, so I felt I had that material under control. I stayed away from the “celebrations”/demonstrations on the 26th and the next day. I read more of Rose. Wednesday morning saw me back at the lab. I went to see Steve Shattuck.
“You know what I’ve been doing?”
“You’re rescuing girls and going to teach more.”
“Close. I hope to be back here by the end of March.”
“Optimist!”
“I hope not. But have you lectured at a uni?”
“Not really. One shot at a time, here and there.”
“I was hoping for some advice.”
“The kids will have read less than you expect and know less than they think they do.”
“Thanks.”
“I wanted to be a researcher; I never wanted to be an academic lecturer.”
“I’m not sure. I liked visiting the schools.”
“The kids are full of eager interests. At the uni, most just want a degree and a job. Some just want a spouse.”
“Now you’re being even more cynical.”
“Yeah. Just wait til one shows a tit and asked for your office hours.”
“No!”
“Yes. Anyway, want some lunch?”
After we were sitting and orders taken, Steve asked: “Are you organized?”
“I think so. The – uh – prospectus says [I referred to my cheat-sheet] the course covers ‘the systematics, evolution and diversity of “the small things that matter” – and the large ones. It looks at the origin of life in the sea and the evolutionary patterns suggested by marine and terrestrial fossil material. The focus is on the diversity of invertebrates.’ So I thought I’d begin with the varieties, their ages, and the evidence left.”
“Sounds OK.”
“I’ll assign chapters from Doyle’s Understanding Fossils first. That way I can go bivalves, gastropods, cephalopods, and ostracods. I thought that could take me to crustaceans, mollusks, arachnids, and insects. That’s ‘evolution’ and ‘diversity’ – for sure.”
“About three billion years,” Steve said.
“I don’t want to seem over-ambitious!” I said, laughing.
When I returned to the lab, there was a pink slip to call Jane at Biological Sciences. I did.
“I was right,” she said.
“Oh?”
“Your enrollment has waxed and you’re now in a medium-sized tiered theatre.”
“What does that mean?”
“I had you in a room that could take 35 to 40. You’ve topped 50. So I’ve now got you in a room that maxes at 120.”
“120!”
“I doubt whether it’ll get over 100. And a third of them will drop in a week or 10 days. But you might end up with 60.”
“I imagined twenty or maybe two dozen!”
Anastasia
- 21.09.2022
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