5. A Side Project
A Side Project
Cerise
The cry of a garuda pierced the air above as I followed its call with my eyes, searching the treetops for the elusive bird.
We were deep in the jungle, still hours away from our destination.
Slivers of sun pierced through the dense canopy, bringing an ethereal glow to the brightly colored plant life.
There was a lightness in my chest and I could barely sit still in my saddle. I had missed working in the field. Missed the thrill of studying wildlife and documenting their behavior. Missed the way the sounds of nature carried on the breeze.
The bird called again and I scanned the branches above me, attempting to locate the source.
“It’s over there.” Liam’s voice startled me as he pulled his horse close. “Just beyond that branch.”
My eyes followed his finger and landed on the bird. Long, white tail-feathers shimmered in the sun as it let out another cry from its purple beak.
“I know. I already found it.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Yes, I did,” I bit back.
He quirked an eyebrow. “It’s not a competition, you know. There’s no award for who finds the animal first.”
“I’m aware.”
“It sure doesn’t appear that way.”
My shoulders tensed. “Is this how it’s going to be for the next two months?”
He narrowed his eyes. Eyes that were even greener against the vibrant backdrop of the jungle. Eyes that peered at me from behind his glasses and seemed to read my every thought.
“I don’t catch your meaning,” he said, but his face was full of mischief, as if he knew he was irritating me.
“This. You, making fun of me for being ‘competitive’ or teasing me for being boring while I try to do actual work. Are we to spend the next two months playing this game?”
He threw his head back with a laugh. “First of all, I don’t know what ‘game’ you’re referring to. Second of all, I never called you boring—”
“Yes, you did,” I interrupted.
“As a matter of fact, I did not. I asked your friend if you knew how to have fun and she confirmed you didn’t. The word boring never even entered the conversation. It seems like you’re afraid that you are, in fact, boring, and you’re projecting by putting words in my mouth.”
My jaw dropped. “I—what?” This man was infuriating.
“Like I told you before, I’m good at reading people.
” He waved his hand. “You think you’re boring, therefore you’re overly sensitive about it.
Therefore, you accuse me of calling you boring instead of taking responsibility for your own insecurities.
But to answer your earlier question…Is it going to be this way for two months?
Meaning, am I going to continue to be myself and not put on a mask like you do? The answer is yes.”
Put on a mask? What in the world was he talking about?
“You sure like to hear yourself speak, don’t you?”
He shrugged. “I have a lot to say.”
“Clearly.”
“Well, shall we discuss our plans like you so adamantly wanted to last night?”
“That’s an excellent idea.” I kept hold of my horse’s reins as she stepped over a fallen log. “First question: what is your goal on this expedition?”
He tilted his head. “My…goal…”
“Yes.” I waited.
“Why?”
“Because we must see if our goals align so we can adjust if needed, to make sure we are able to work well together.”
Liam looked utterly confused. “Tell me yours first.”
I tightened my grip on the reins. “To discover a new species.”
“Why?”
“To help my career, of course. It’ll help me move up to dean of my department.”
“And why on earth would you want to do that?” he asked.
Was he serious? “Why would you not want to do that? Do you mean to tell me you’re perfectly content with remaining a professor for your entire career without moving up?”
“Absolutely,” he said with a smile. “I love teaching and I hate leadership. Being a dean sounds appalling.”
“Oh.” I didn’t know what to say, surprised by the passion in his voice when he said he loved teaching.
It had been so ingrained in me not to settle, to always reach for the next best thing, I supposed I hadn’t allowed myself to accept others may not feel the same way.
“Don’t worry, Doctor Thornheart, I won’t get in the way of your ambitions.”
“That’s not what I meant, I—” I shook my head. “I didn’t mean to assume. I think it’s honorable that you enjoy teaching so much.”
“Do you?” He didn’t appear as though he believed me.
We passed under a low hanging branch. I ducked, the twigs catching on my hair. Straightening, I brushed myself off and turned to Liam.
Humor danced in his eyes as he held back a laugh.
“What?”
“You have something…there.” He gestured to my head.
I reached up, assuming it was a leaf, but Liam stopped me.
“Wait.” He reached his hand out and placed it on the side of my head.
“What in the world are you doing, Doctor Pendragon?”
“Just hold on a moment. I’ve almost got it.”
Withdrawing his hand, he held it out between us. A large iridescent insect sat motionless on his palm.
I gasped, clapping my hands together. “An avicularia! I’ve never seen one in the wild. Stop your horse!”
I couldn’t contain my excitement as I tugged my reins back, halting my horse and quickly dismounting. Liam stopped beside me, still holding the insect as he sat silently on his steed.
“Doctor Thornheart, what are you doing? You’re holding up the team.” Dr. Rosenshield approached. “Oh, look at that. An avicularia. Doctor Lovelace! Please come here. We must have you catalogue this.”
Emberly stepped off her horse and strode over, her sketchbook in hand as Liam remained as still as possible so she could draw the specimen. The rest of the party halted as they watched us document our find.
“These insects are extremely rare,” I said as I jotted down my observations in my notebook. “Doctor Pendragon, what size would you estimate this specimen is?”
He inspected the insect carefully, green eyes missing nothing. “I’d say about nine inches in length, four in height. Weighs approximately…a couple of ounces, it seems.”
“Excellent,” I said. “This is astounding. This insect can only be found in this particular jungle.” I turned to the two graduate assistants, Aaric and Sylvie, both standing on the ground holding their reins. “Do either of you know why?”
They stepped forward, eager to provide the answer. “Because they feed off the nectar of the silverflower which only grows here,” Sylvie blurted.
“Good,” I said.
“Why are they iridescent, Aaric?” Liam asked, falling into his role as teacher.
“They get their iridescence from the molecules in the nectar,” he answered proudly.
“Fantastic,” Liam praised.
Both students beamed and my heart warmed at their enthusiasm.
“I think this is a good time for a break,” said Dr. Rosenshield. “Seeing as most of us are off our horses anyway.”
I finished my notes and put away the notebook, then reached my hand out to the creature. “Let me take it so you can get down.”
Liam nodded and tilted his hand to encourage the insect to walk. It slowly climbed into my palm, its sticky feet pulling at my skin with each step. I inspected it closely as it moved along my hand to my forearm.
Liam dismounted and approached, but the avicularia spread its clear wings and took off, disappearing into the boughs.
“So you do smile,” Liam said as he stopped before me.
“What? Of course I smile.” I retrieved a handkerchief from my front pocket and wiped my hand.
“That’s the first time I’ve seen it on this trip.”
“It’s only been two days.”
“So you don’t smile every day?” He adjusted his glasses and looked at me. He was taller than my five foot ten willowy frame but only by a few inches.
“I don’t know. I’m not in the nature of counting my smiles. You smile enough for the both of us anyway.” Aaric approached and took our horses. I followed, ready for lunch.
Liam barked a laugh as he caught up with me. “Right. Because I’m happy. I enjoy life. I find pleasure in the little things.”
“I find pleasure in—”
“Working,” he interrupted.
I stopped and turned to face him. “You were just as excited as I was about that insect. You even quizzed Aaric and Sylvie like a proper professor. You enjoy work too. You just don’t want to admit it.”
He rolled his eyes. “Well, yes. I just told you earlier that I do enjoy it. But I also enjoy things outside of my job. Something you could—Oh wait!” He gesticulated wildly. “I have an excellent idea.”
“Let’s hear it,” I said, hands on my hips. “And make it quick because I’m hungry.”
“Yes, sunshine.” His eyes were full of mirth.
“What did you call me?”
“Sunshine. Because you’re the opposite of bubbly and jovial.”
He paused, as if waiting for me to respond. I didn’t.
“I’m saying it sarcastically…”
I gritted my teeth. “Okay, yes I get it. What’s your brilliant idea?”
“While we’re here for work and research, of course, I like to have little side projects for fun.”
“And,” I urged him on.
He tilted his head, his eyes traveling from my head to my toes, and back up again before meeting my gaze. “I’m going to help you find your fun.”
I shook my head and walked away, mumbling, “I don’t have time for this.”
“Mark my words, sunshine!” he called after me. “You’ll be having the most fun of your life within two months’ time!”