7. Back then #2
“Well, did you apply for my scholarship?” Jennie asked.
Helena frowned. “Your scholarship?”
“Yes! It’s a full ride for young women who wish to follow in my footsteps in the animal sciences. Of course, I don’t know what your aspirations are; you may have other interests—”
“No, no!” Helena said quickly. “Magizoology is the only thing I care about.”
Helena promptly started dumping books out of her bag. Bertram caught the titles Otherfolk Liberation Now, Tanukis in the Mist, and Reasons for Hope I Won’t Be Eaten By a Dragon before the pile grew too big and chaotic for him to decipher.
“But I researched my options pretty thoroughly,” Helena said, “and I didn’t see your magizoology scholarship.”
“I created it somewhat recently,” Jennie said. “I’ll have to double-check with the school and make sure it’s posted ASAP. Is that your father? Would you ask him to come over here, please?”
Helena turned and gestured frantically for her father to join them. He did, at which point Helena tugged on his sleeve excitedly, jumping up and down just a little.
“Dad, I was right! This is—”
“Doctor Roussillon, I know.” He shook Jennie’s hand. “My daughter has wanted to be you since she was five years old. I’m Gerard.”
“Nice to meet you,” Jennie said. “This is my husband, the Count of Roussillon.”
Urghk snorted. “Just Urghk, please.”
“And my son, Bertram. He’s about Helena’s age—”
“No, I’m not,” Bertram mumbled.
“I’m sooo sorry,” Jennie said, with a smile that Bertram knew was at his expense. “He’s a whole two years older.”
“Well, that’s important,” Gerard said, and Bertram thought he was might even be sincere.
Either way, Bertram decided he already liked Gerard more than he liked his daughter.
“It is important,” Jennie agreed. “You must have quite the mind yourself, Gerard, considering your daughter. Are you in the sciences?”
Gerard laughed. “I run a bike shop. I, uh, I was pre-med, back in the day but life, uh, life happened. Couldn’t be happier with how things worked out though.” Gerard kissed Helena on top of her head, and she giggled.
“I have no doubt I will see your surname in scientific journals one day, Mr. de Narbon, even if it is through Helena,” Jennie said.
Helena looked like she was maybe going to cry or faint or throw up or all three.
“Perhaps we could stay and look for the long-tailed planijay with you,” Jennie said. “Seeing as how planigales are one of the smallest mammals on Earth, even their flying cousins can be quite difficult to spot—”
“Mom,” Bertram cut in, “you said we could go see a movie.”
Jennie smiled to Bertram. “Yes, I did.”
For a moment, Jennie looked torn, which Bertram found incredibly unfair. They were supposed to see a movie together. They were supposed to be bonding. Jennie didn’t even know this random little girl, and yet she was considering abandoning her plans with Bertram . . .
It made him want to throw something.
But then Jennie smiled and put her arm around Bertram’s shoulders. “We’ll get going right now,” she said. “One final thing . . .”
Jennie gestured to Helena’s pile of books, which included a copy of LEOPARDOPTERA: The Illustrated Journal of Jenevieve, Countess of Roussillon on the Island of Leopardoptera Maxima. “Not to be presumptuous, but I’m happy to sign that as well, if you’d like.”
Helena looked overjoyed. “I didn’t want to push my luck asking for two signatures, but if you’re sure you don’t mind!”
Bertram tapped his toes pointedly for the entire thirty seconds it took Jennie to sign one last book.
He knew he probably shouldn’t begrudge the girl an extra thirty seconds with his mother.
After all, Jennie was clearly Helena’s hero, and she would never see her again.
He should be generous rather than resentful.
He wasn’t.
“Alright, Bertram. We can head out now.” She turned back to the de Narbons. “But please do make sure you apply for my scholarship—look for it in the next few days, will you, Gerard?”
They said their goodbyes and Jennie hugged Helena, at which point the girl really did start crying. She still hadn’t stopped by the time they were out of earshot.
Jennie went with Urghk and Bertram to the movies, as promised. But on the way, she called The Titania School and asked them to set up a scholarship in her name.
It was open for three weeks and received about a dozen entries, many of which were quite good, a few of which were great.
Almost all of the papers referenced Jennie’s work, some citing specific passages of specific books with notable insight.
Most made reference to her extraordinary work on Leopardoptera Maxima.
But only one essay quoted eighteenth-century human ethicist Jeremy Bentham, noted centaur magizoologist Doctor Deerkin, and all five books on Leopardoptera that Jennie had published to date, as well as her opening address to the Society of Magifauna Preservation the previous year.
Jennie said she would be proud to fund the education of this anonymous essayist, that they clearly deserved it, whether or not the author was Helena.
The author was Helena.