day you'll wake up and all your chances will be gone.”
The librarian suddenly brightened, “By the way, I have some interest in science myself, you know.”
“That doesn't surprise me. Since high school, I've looked up to you as the ultimate authority on just about every subject.”
“Well, aren't you a dear?” she laughed delightedly. “You know, Michael, now that I'm retired from teaching, I like to travel a little now and again. It so happens I have an old friend who works over at Colorado State University in the administration office. Two months ago, she called me up and asked if I would like to take a refresher course being offered there in library science. She invited me to come out and stay with her for a while at Fort Collins. Sounded like fun, so I accepted and, in fact, I just got back a few days ago.”
“Then the science you are referring to is library science?”
“No, no, silly boy! Just listen. While I was there, my friend and I had time on our hands in the evenings, so we started attending a summer lecture series. And one of these lectures was on biology. That's your specialty, isn't it, Michael?”
“I'm beginning to wonder,” Michael replied.
“What do you mean? Isn't that your major?” Mrs. Crandall stared at him.
“It is, if I ever get back to it.”
“Of course, you'll get back to it! Don't let me hear you talk like that!”
Michael pulled a chair over to the desk and plopped down. “Oh, don't mind me. I 'm just feeling a little unsure about what I really want right now. But, go on—please. You were saying you went to a lecture on biology and...?”
“And, I was enthralled! Simply enthralled!” she exclaimed, clapping her wrinkled, bent hands for emphasis. “The professor giving the lecture was one of the most fascinating men I've ever heard. The way he talked, you'd think biology was the most amazing subject in the whole world. Held us all spellbound for two solid hours. Now, I say if a man can keep me glued to my chair for two hours talking about worms and snakes and prairie dogs, he's something extraordinary.”
Michael chuckled. “I'd say so. What was his name, do you remember?”
The librarian looked up. “I'll never forget his name, in fact, because it was so different—-it was Omega. Dr. James Omega.”
Michael straightened up, eyes wide open. “James Omega? At Colorado State? I thought he was at Chicago.”
“You sound like you know him.”
“Not, ah ... personally,” Michael stammered. “But he is someone special to me. Kind of an inspiration, you might say. Well, you see, I read one of his books back in high school and it made me first think of going into biology as a career. He's quite famous, you know.”
“Really?”
“Yes, he's been on television and written some of the most wonderful stuff on endangered animals I've ever read.”
“That sounds pretty passionate for someone who claims he's uncertain about his major.”
Michael put his chin on his hand. “Oh, it's not that I don't love biology. It's just that it hasn't been quite what I thought it would be. But, you don’t have time to listen to my worries.”
Mrs. Crandall settled back into her chair and smiled that warm, gentle smile he loved. “Michael Johns, for you, I have all the time in the world.”
He hesitated, then began. “I just don't know quite what to do.”
She said nothing, just listened.
“I love animals, you know that. For a long time, I thought I wanted to be a vet. Then I read a book by Omega, A Biologist’s Notebook: Animal Societies and How They Interact. I was hooked. Wow, I thought, I wanted to learn more about all that. By the time I graduated, I had read everything by Omega I could get my hands on; and I knew that biology was the direction I wanted to go. To be honest, though, my three years at the University of Wyoming were disappointing.”
He paused. She still said nothing.
“Oh, there were fine professors there and plenty to learn. It was just all textbooks and formaldehyde. I kept thinking I was ready to take it to another level—-I wanted to see and understand animals the way James Omega did. Man, I can't believe you got to hear him lecture! I'd give my best saddle to…”
“Michael,” Mrs. Crandall said, very, very softly.
“What?”
“Why don't you transfer to CSU?”
There was silence. Michael stared at her.
“You could, you know.”
A grin slowly spread across Michael's face. “I guess I could, couldn't I? But I can hardly believe Omega is at Fort Collins. Are you sure he wasn't just visiting?”
“Just a minute.” The librarian opened the side drawer of her desk, shuffled a few papers and pulled out a brochure. “Here it is, the pamphlet for the lecture series. See? There's his picture. You read what it says.”
Michael picked it up, a tingle going through him as he stared at the face of the man he idolized only a slim horsehair less than his father. “Dr. James Omega, our featured speaker, is the newest member of CSU's Faculty,” he read aloud, “and will begin teaching classes this fall in the Department of Natural Sciences.” Michael's voice was filled with disbelief. “Holy cow!”
“Well?”
Michael straightened, looking toward the door. “I knew I was supposed to come see you today. This is why. Now I know what to do.” He bent and kissed her lightly on the cheek. “Mrs. Crandall, you have just shown me the way. Again. Like you always do. God bless you.”
Crooked fingers patted his hand. “God bless you, Michael Johns. I see in you great things.”
“I’ll try like heck to not disappoint you,” he grinned. “Guess I better get cracking if I’m going to get an application to CSU in time for fall semester. Bye, Mrs. Crandall, and thanks again.”
Grinning like a schoolboy, Michael Johns threw his former teacher a farewell kiss and charged out the door.
“Eritrichium nanum!” Anna Dawn greeted Omega triumphantly as he walked through the door at 8 o’clock Monday morning his third week at Colorado State University.
“Beg pardon?” he said, setting his briefcase down beside her computer desk.
“The blue wildflowers ... Eritrichium nanum. Family, Boranginaceae. Common name, Alpine Forget-Me-Nots. Genus name, erion, comes from the Greek word for “wool”, and trichose, meaning “hair,” referring to the soft, wooly hairs on the leaves. Satisfied?”
Omega grinned at her. “Very. Good work, Ms. Hamlyn. You have proven yourself a worthy opponent. Now, how well will you do with these...?” He opened his briefcase, unrolled a newspaper, and handed her a spray of creamy white blossoms. “The gauntlet has again been thrown.” He turned and walked into his office.
Anna Dawn, he thought, seemed to enjoy this little ritual of his bringing her flowers for identification as much as he did. He was glad he thought of it. And he was glad for her. She was a blessing—-just the secretary he hoped for. That was important. She would soon be trustee to several things of a delicate nature and, not only cooperation, but discretion from his secretary would be essential. His last secretary betrayed him and he could not let that happen again. Anna Dawn Hamlyn had a straightforward manner and an honest and pretty face. He felt already he could depend on her, and he hoped it would be mutual, that she would come to trust him as well. Trust was akin to loyalty, and loyalty was a binding virtue.
He believed without question it was meant to be; that this particular girl