Sylvie tsked under her breath at her technology habit. She was meant to be a role model to the students.
“So, number one.” Ade fumbled. “Check your schedules for the semester.”
“Mine is out of whack,” one of the girls piped up from the side.
Ade continued to scroll through her phone, ignoring the interruption.
Another student leaned forward. “Hey, what do I do if myschedule doesn’t make sense?”
Ade took a long breath. “I’ll get back to you.”
“I don’t have enough lab time. Do you have six hours a week?” The stocky boy turned to his bench partner.
“I have eight hours, Greg. Do you want to trade? More beach time for me.”
The conversation crossed over with another table and voices blended into one another. Ade put her head in her hands.
Sensing her imminent panic and a faint, if inconvenient, sense of duty, Sylvie stepped into the room. “Okay, let’s leave it there, this morning. Your schedule finessing can be done at the office back at the main campus. You can send them a message in your student portal.” She dropped her bag on Ade’s desk. “Thank you all. Until next time.”
The kids filed out, murmuring their hellos and goodbyes to Sylvie on the way. “Are you okay?” Sylvie asked, once the last one had drawn the door closed.
“Sure.” Ade rubbed her eyebrows and gathered her things, then headed for the door.
“You know, I came all the way out here for an induction session with you. It’d be a huge waste of my time to turn around and go back without at least a conversation.”
Ade turned and stared blankly. “You want to see the animals?”
Sylvie smiled. There was something about Ade which baffled her. Maybe it was her androgynous, science-geek fashion sense, or the way she navigated a room like she was the only person there. She followed Ade to a cooler part of the building, regretting the click of her heels, which announced her presence. Maybe she’d do best to blend in with the lab coats after all.
They emerged into a cool blue light, with walls of tanks on two sides.
“I came early to feed and check on them.”
Ade moved through the room with a confidence and purpose that Sylvie hadn’t witnessed in their previous interactions.
“This is George. He’s a seventy-six-year-old turtle that we rescued off the coast of Africa. He’s my new buddy, aren’t you?”
Ade had revealed more in the past three minutes than she had in the past week. Her voice was crisp and clear, and Sylvie inched closer to hear Ade’s intonation. Gone was the shaky staccato of her scripted instructions to the students. She was clearly in her element here in the marine lab.
“Are turtles your favorites?” Sylvie asked, wanting to hear more of Ade’s voice.
“I love them. I was raising penguin chicks mostly in Monterey.” Ade neatened the work surface. “I named my last chick Gerry. She’s a feisty little thing. She had a tricky hatching, and I had to get her a couple of foster parents to take care of her.”
“Why?” Sylvie stood still, not wanting to break Ade’s rhythm and force her back into a stilted silence.
“Her birth parents hadn’t raised a chick, especially one who needed extra care and attention. I wanted Gerry to have the best possible chance, so I gave her to our most experienced couple.”
“You just gave her away? Weren’t her parents bereft?”
Ade frowned. “I guess it sounds strange to pluck a chick from their parents. But that’s kind of a thing. In the wild, she would probably have died because she needed more warmth, food, attention, and understanding than they were able to give her. It’s not their fault; they just wouldn’t know how to.”
Sylvie shook her head, unable to equate this lesson from the animal world to her understanding of human civilization.
“Animals and humans are different in some ways,” Ade said.
Sylvie contemplated the simplicity of the sentence. She admired Ade’s reading of the world, and her anticipation of the needs of her animals. It was such a basic attention to detail that was so often overlooked in the busyness of life. Ade continued to work beside the tanks, taking notes of feeding stations and temperatures, leaving Sylvie captivated by her movement. Its natural flow was so different from the stiffness of her body in the classroom.
“Do you bring the students in here?” Sylvie asked.
