Wildlife Biologist with a Dime

Ryan had to get stitches after work because he cut his finger open with a saw. Currently at the boys’ apartment for a meeting.

Earlier, I’m questioning my Mom on phone at the library. “You think I should still be here?”

She’s super pissed off at everything that I’ve been telling her, and she’s got that motherly intuition.

“Yes, I do.”

At that moment, a woman walks up to me, asking for ten cents. She is adorable, and elderly and missing all of her teeth, but has the most magnificent smile. I reach into my wallet, which is conveniently in my parka pocket by chance, and I have exactly one dime inside. I hand it to her, and realize that I am exactly where I need to be. I just need to let go a little more, stand strong, and trust in the art of life.

And the woman is dancing around, and exclaiming how much she likes my hair. And I smile, and say thank you so much. She tells me a few more times how much she likes my hair, and I beam at her.

A few minutes later, I’m walking down the street to the boys’ apartment for the meeting. I’m talking to my Pop, haven’t talked to him in awhile. Catch up on his life, and say goodnight just as I’m approaching the boys’ apartment. As I hang up the phone, a man calls out from his balcony to me.

“You must be a wildlife biologist!”

He’s a fifty something year old man who reminds me of a tall leprechaun, standing outside of his apartment. He might have elf shoes.

“Nope. I’m an International Relations major.”

“Oh, really? All of us wildlife biologists kind of look the same. I thought you were one of us.”

I pause and mentally visualize myself: haven’t showered in a few days, I’ve been winding my hair with my fingers into Dr. Suess like towers while reading at the library, I’ve got my baggy khakis tucked into my big rain boots and I’ve got my nice, fitted dark green parka with the Arctic style hood puffed up around me.

His name is Denver, he tells me he’s a part of the Snowy Owl project.

“Ask around, we take volunteers out with us.”

He tells me he’s in apartment one, if I want to stop by. I tell him goodbye, and walk on to the boys’ house which is the apartment behind.


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