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Chapter 19
Even though the days had been nice, the water in the swamp was still pretty cold, and Pam Appleton could only stand to slog around in it for so long before it started to get to her.
She'd been back home for almost ten days, now; she'd only been marking time in Athens, hoping something would turn up to keep her going over the summer. There'd been a project down in Texas she'd been hoping to get funding for, but it just hadn't come through,
and it had begun to look like her summer project was going to be the grill person in a Burger Bummer. Messing around in the swamps around Spearfish Lake looking for snakes was a lot more preferable to that. The grant hadn't come though, yet, but Dr. Gerjevic was working
on it, and they'd decided that a little preliminary investigation couldn't hurt. If she could turn up a population of Gibson's Water Snakes in the interim, it might not only mean a grant, but a project that could carry her a long way. It hadn't taken much convincing.
She slid off her waders and shivered; the cold swamp water had soaked into her very bones. It was time to go home, fix a cup of coffee, and slip into the tub, with the water as hot as she could stand it, to try to soak up a little warmth like a snake in the sun.
As she drove into town, she drove past Spearfish Lake Appliance. The sign, "HOT TUBS AND SPAS" sounded especially good to her. In fact, she could see that someone was loading a redwood hot tub onto the truck, so someone was going to have a nice
experience. As cold as she was, it would sure be nice to soak her bones in a hot tub, but she knew that she'd have to settle for the bathtub.
It was good to get home. Her folks were both at work, so she had the house to herself, even though it was near lunchtime. She knew she'd really rather had good coffee from the coffeepot, but it would take time to heat, so she nuked some hot water in the microwave
while she peeled out of her wet clothes. She was nearly naked when the bell rang; she spooned some instant coffee into the cup and headed for the bathroom, where the water was already running.
It was almost too hot, in other words, just right. She set her coffee on the lip of the tub, set the phone on the floor beside it, took off the rest of her clothes, and slid into the water. If she scrunched down and folded her legs a little, she could sink down to where only her
head was out of the water. It felt good. She lay there, just reveling in the warmth, while she organized her thoughts before she called Dr. Gerjevic.
It was almost painful to do it, but she slid herself a little upright, took a sip of coffee, then picked up the phone and dialed the herpetology lab at Athens.
It took a minute to get Gerjevic on the phone. "So, are you having any luck?" Gerjevic asked.
"A little bit," Pam said. "I spent another three hours out this morning, and I actually saw a sipedon sipedon, just laying out in the sun. He was a little torpid; I don't think he's been awake long."
"That's progress of a sort," Gerjevic said. "At least we know the sipedons are stirring, so it would be reasonable to assume that a colony of sipedon gibsonis living in the marshes would be stirring, too."
"That's what I thought," Pam said. "That's the first one I've seen. That water is still pretty cold."
"Any progress on the sewer system angle?"
"Afraid not," Pam said. "I talked to some of the men that work on the sewers, and they say they see snakes once in a while, but not a one of them would know a garter snake from a boa constrictor. I showed them what a natrix sipedon looks like, and they promised to
try and catch anything they see like that if the chance should come along."
"Maybe you'll get lucky," Gerjevic commented.
Holding the phone carefully, Pam slid down in the water a little. "Maybe," she admitted. "Of course, anything we get from them is going to probably have been whacked with a shovel two or three times, but it might still be identifiable."
"It's a pity, but you're probably right."
"Yeah," Pam agreed, then went on. People were people. Most people, however misguided, didn't like snakes, and she knew it. "Then, I got to thinking that at least some snakes might get washed down to the sewage treatment plant, so I went down there to poke
around. The plant superintendent says he's never seen any snakes in the system, but he says that there's a macerator on the intake side of the plant, so he wouldn't be likely to unless they were in real little pieces."
"Well, good thinking, anyway," Gerjevic said. "It looks like we're back to TV cameras."
"A little good news there," Pam said. "Mr. Knoblauch, the sewer system manager, says that there's some lines he'd like to inspect with a camera. He doesn't have a lot in the budget for it, but maybe he can come up with some matching funds if we're willing to
share videotapes."
"Good thinking, Pam. Every little bit helps."
"What progress are you making with a grant?" she asked. "Local match isn't worth much if we don't have the basic funding."
"I talked to the Fish and Wildlife Service in Minneapolis again this morning," Gerjevic said. "After going over that specimen forwards and backwards, the same way we did, they come up with the same conclusion we did. In other words, it might be a sipedon gibsoni,
and it might not be. The only way we'll know is to find other specimens."
"We keep coming back to the same problem," she said.
"Yes," Gerjevic said, "But it's an interesting enough question that they're giving it some consideration. I doubt very much that we'll get everything we ask for, but we should be able to get partial funding from them."
That was good news! "How partial?" she asked.
"No way of telling," Gerjevic said. "Maybe fifty percent."
"I wish it was more," Pam said. It was a last minute request, and they'd cut it pretty tight. Fifty percent funding on that request would pay for the administrative costs and a reasonable stipend for her, even a little bit to hire some local help if it was needed. Or, it could
pay for a reasonable program of television inspection of the sewers, if Mr. Knoblauch pitched in. It wouldn't pay for both, and Pam knew it. "With fifty percent funding, we've got less than a fifty percent chance of settling the question," she said flatly.
"I'm aware of that," Gerjevic said, a little prissy. "I've started writing to some of the advocacy organizations with our problem, in hopes that we might find some funding there. People like the Nature Conservancy, Sierra Club, Defenders of Gaea, that sort of thing. If
we can get some one of them interested, perhaps the Fish and Wildlife Service might be a little more liberal."
Pam shook her head. "I just wish I had something a little more positive to give you for ammunition," she said. "I can poke around here for another week or two, but if we don't get some sort of funding, I'm going to have to get a job for the summer."
"That's ammunition of itself," Gerjevic said. "Especially with your local knowledge."
"Well, I'll keep plugging away," Pam said. "It's supposed to be warm for the next few days, so maybe the snakes will get moving a little more."
"That's the spirit, Pam," Gerjevic said. "Give me a call the first of the week, and sooner if you find something. Don't be afraid to call me at home if you do."
Pam hung up the phone, took another sip of coffee, and slipped a little lower in the tub. It would be so much easier if she could turn up at least a little positive evidence! Extra hands would help, especially this soon, when she was trying to find anything at all. There
weren't a lot of extra hands available, except maybe for Pacobel, and it would be difficult to ask him.
She'd been avoiding him, and for good reason. There was one way she could get his interest, and she knew it, but she'd been down that road with him before, but she'd gotten over it and didn't want to do it again. She'd been younger and more foolish then, and perhaps
it had seemed like a good idea at the time.
On the other hand, perhaps she could dangle it in front of him a little, and manage to avoid going through with it. She was more experienced now; it might be possible. That might work.
She looked at the clock. He'd still be in class for a while, and then, he'd have a practice, maybe a game. Maybe the thing to do would be to make the initial opening where his running room would be limited. Maybe right at the end of the school day, in class time. Well,
there'd be plenty of time to get around. The tub water was starting to get a little cool, anyway.
It seemed strange to be walking down the halls of the Spearfish Lake High School again. Pam had been away five years, and it was as if she'd never left. The kids were older and different, but the teachers were the same, the halls were the same, the posters on the
wall not any different than she remembered. The kids were starting to get a little loose, now; there were only three weeks of school left for the summer -- two for the seniors -- and everybody was feeling summer come.
Pacobel's room hadn't changed much, either. As luck would have it, it was the advanced biology class, and that gave her an even better idea on the spur of the moment.
"Well, Pam," Pacobel said, looking up from his stat sheets. "I'm surprised to see you here."
"I came back to run a preliminary survey for the natrix sipedon gibsoni study," she said, loud enough for the class to hear. "It looks like there's a good chance it's going to get funded, and I was sort of wondering if you had any kids that like snakes and would like to get
involved in a real scientific project this summer. If the funding works out, we might even be able to find them some money."
Despite the fact that several of the kids were working on their projects, six or eight hands shot up, and a couple of boys -- big kids that looked like football players -- were even quicker than that, rushing right up to her. "That really was a sipedon gibsoni? Wow!" one
of them said.
"You've seen it?" Pam asked.
"Mr. Pacobel had us try to identify it, about a month ago," the other one said.
Not surprising, Pam thought. Pacobel probably gave it to the kids to identify before he tried to do it himself, then claim the credit. It wouldn't be the first time a teacher took the credit for a student's work, and wouldn't be the last. "You look familiar," Pam said. "Are
you an Evachevski?"
"Danny," the taller of the two boys said.
"Thought so," she said. "I went out with Garth for a while. I guess we all know about Jennifer, but what's Brandy up to?"
"She graduated from Michigan Tech this spring," Danny said. "She's going to stay there and work on her masters, in geology."
"That's Brandy, always down to earth," Pam laughed. "Who's your friend?"
"Oh, this is Josh Archer. He's a sophomore."
Archer smiled. "You might remember my brother, John. He graduated a couple years ago."
Pam shook her head. "Don't think so," she said. "I probably was a little far ahead of him. Anyway, would you two like to go looking for snakes with me tomorrow?"
"Sure," Josh said, and Danny chorused agreement.
"Danny, you still live in the same place, don't you?" Pam asked. He nodded, and she went on, "How about if I pick you two up at your place about nine?"
Evachevski frowned, but Pacobel broke in, "Don't forget, you two, we've got to have that meeting on the haunted house plans for the Halloween party at 8:30 tomorrow morning, and we've got a lot of work to do."
"Shouldn't take more than a couple hours," Danny said. "How about eleven, uh, Miss . . ."
"Pam Appleton. Call me Pam. Eleven might even work out better; it'll give things a chance to warm up."
"Would you mind if I tagged along, Pam?" Pacobel asked.
She thought about it for a second. She'd almost brought it off under his nose, but he wasn't likely to try anything funny with the boys along. It couldn't hurt. "Sure," she said. "Bring your waders."
