"Would you mind if I got my crew, so I can record what you’re saying? I’d really love to get you on camera, given your expertise in this field."
He hesitates, but finally agrees. I slap Olson on the back as I gather up my camera, mike, light pole and assorted other equipment. It takes a few minutes, but soon we’re ready to shoot. The professor and Kelsey are sitting on the front porch, both wired for sound – though I just clipped the mike on his shirt lapel – and I’m checking the lighting. I give Kels a little nod and begin rolling the tape.
"Professor Sams, you’re a professor at the University of Texas, San Antonio, in the biology department, correct?"
"Yes, Miss. I’ve been there for nearly fifteen years now. My focus is on environmental science."
"And how is that different from biology, Professor?"
"Well, it’s more a subset of it. My concern has been, and continues to be, the need for what I call a Caretakers’ Movement in today’s society to counteract the pollution and destruction of our environment. Most people in this world don’t have a caretaker’s heart for the environment. They use and abuse it and then expect everything to remain the same. It’s insanity, really. People like that don’t deserve the beautiful earth we’ve been given."
Kels pauses and checks her notes, keeping her expression neutral. He just concerned me with that comment too. "So, Professor, what should we, as responsible users of the environment, be aware of or sensitive to? I mean, I recycle and try not to waste resources, but it sounds like you have a deeper concern. Can you explain the real issues here?"
"Part of the problem is exactly in how you phrased the question, Miss. We aren’t supposed to be ‘users’ of the environment. If you read any of my publications, you’ll find that I have consistently advocated a Caretaker role. We borrow the earth from future generations. We may have the power to ‘use’ the environment, but we have no right."
The last four words come out harsh, staccato. This appears to be a sore point with the good professor.
Kels nods. "I understand your concern. Professor, what should we be doing about it then?"
"I think we need to get back to basics, to way things were supposed to be from the beginning. We were given this great, garden paradise as a gift. We were told to populate it, name it, care for it. And, what have we done? Everything we possibly can to destroy it."
"Are you referring to the biblical Adam and Eve and the Garden of Eden myth?"
The words are barely out of her mouth when the professor’s face clouds over in anger. His eyebrows come together and he looks long and hard at Kelsey, trying to decide what to do with her. In the past, heathens were stoned. I’m glad they’re on the porch and not near any handy rocks.
"The Garden of Eden was no myth, Miss Stanton, despite the current vogue of discrediting the Lord’s word."
Kelsey remains silent, not rising to the provocation, nor providing any of her own.
After a long moment, he continues. "I’d like to return to your original question: what should we be doing about the current disaster we’re faced with? I think we need to look back again to the very beginning and follow the pattern we’re given. When the original Caretakers broke the rules, they were banished."
Where are we gonna send them, fella, the moon?
"That seems a bit extreme, Professor."
He bristles at her suggestion. "How is that extreme? If you have cancer, what do you do? Sit around and tolerate its presence in your body? No, you cut it out. You get rid of the disease before it kills you."
"So what is the cancer that you would expunge from today’s modernized and industrialized society?"
"The modern and industrial society is the cancer."
Oh boy. Houston, we have a problem. Seems the professor is one can short of a six pack. He ain’t the coldest beer in the fridge. Not the sharpest knife in the drawer. Not the brightest … ah, hell, I get my own point.
Personally, I’ve grown kinda fond of electricity, running water and modern medicine. Not to mention motorcycles. I really like my Harley. I gotta get Kels to take a fun ride with me, not just one from the clink.
Focus, Harper. You got a nut flake sitting on the porch by the woman your Mama invited into the kitchen.
"So, Professor, are you suggesting that we need to reduce the population?"
"Exactly. Or the earth herself will do it for us, with a vengeance. Drastic measures need to be taken to protect the earth from its attackers."
Kelsey takes a deep breath and settles back in the chair she’s sitting on. She wants to go in for the jugular, but is also mindful that this guy may have a handy supply of anthrax at his disposal. "Are you suggesting that certain people are the primary attackers? Isn’t that a little harsh of an assessment?"
"Hardly!" he scoffs. "Three Mile Island, Chernobyl, the Exxon Valdez, the recent radiation leak in Japan, the list goes on and on. All of those were caused by mankind and our precious, industrial, modern society. Harsh? We poison and pollute and destroy. Surely you would agree that is an attack on the earth?" He doesn’t wait for her to respond. "The reason why you came to visit me today is indicative of our attack on the planet. We’ve recently found an anthrax strain in cattle which had previously only been found in sheep. These things don’t happen accidentally, in a vacuum. Someone caused it."
"Are you suggesting that we may be facing a major epidemic, rather like the Black Plague in Europe in the 14th century?"
He shrugs, crosses his legs. "It wouldn’t be entirely unexpected."
No, I bet it wouldn’t be to you. Man, I owe Henry an apology for thinking he was over-reacting to this guy.
"So, Professor, you believe some illness or plague or event will occur in the near future to reduce the human population significantly?"
"I would say it’s pretty much a given at this point." His words are spoken softly, with assurance. This is a man with a plan.
"Do you think there are people or organizations out there who are willing to ‘help’ this process along?"
"Again, from the beginning of time, there have always been Caretakers. I think it’s time for these gardeners to start pruning before the whole garden is lost. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to my work." The professor stands up to his full height and smoothes out his jeans. He unclips the mike pack and sets it down on the chair.
Yeah, and we need to get the hell out of here and get some of that anthrax vaccine. Jesus. This is one scary son-of-a-bitch.
"Thank you so much for your time," Kelsey closes, the consummate professional. "If I have further questions, would you mind me calling on you again in the future?
As he walks through his front door, the professor answers, "What there is left of it, sure."
No, no, no, no, no.
I open my eyes and peer at the clock as the phone continues to ring. Six a.m. Say it isn’t so.
I try reaching for the phone, but somebody has both my arms neatly pinned to my body with her arm. How in the hell can she sleep through this phone ringing? "Harper, honey, let go. I need to get the phone."
She groans, and I manage to get my arm free and pick up the receiver.
"Stanton."
"Hey, Little Girl."
My foggy brain barely lets it register that it’s Henry on the phone and that he sounds a tad panicked. "Henry? What’s wrong?"
"The Professor bolted last night."
"What?" Oh, he has my full attention now. I squirm free of Harper and sit up against the headboard.