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“Is he in an institution?”
“No. He lives with my parents.”
“Does he talk?”
“Yeah. Mostly demands for food and dialogue from movies.”
Jason reached across the table and she was looking around to see what it was he was reaching for, when he put his hand on hers. “Sounds like it's been tough,” he said.
She pulled her hand away with a movement so fast it was almost violent
“I’m sorry,” he said, quickly withdrawing his hand. “Please don't take offense.”
“I’m not offended.” She pushed her chair back. “But I should go help clean up.”
“Don't go.” He scrambled to his feet as she stood up. “Please, Sari. Please don't go. That was stupid of me. I just felt bad for you. That's all. I’m not some guy making moves. You have to know that.”
“I don't know what you are,” she said and meant it.
“I wish you were willing to find out. We could go have a drink-”
“I can't. I have to go help the others now.” She felt all roughed up on the inside-like someone had done to her guts what she had done to her hair earlier that evening.
“After?”
“I can't.”
“Are you mad at me?”
“Of course not,” she said dully. “Everything's fine. I just really have to go.” She went to the door. He was closer and got there before she did. He put his hand on the doorknob, and she had to stop and wait.
“Sari,” he said.
“What?”
“Thanks for talking to me.”
She didn't say anything.
He drew nearer. “I’m a pretty lucky guy. Getting some one-on-one time with the cutest warrior goddess in town.”
“Princess,” she said. “I’m supposed to be a princess, not a goddess.”
“I beg to differ,” Jason Smith said, and, leaning forward, kissed her lightly on the lips before she had a chance to stop him. And then he opened the door and gestured her through.
II
James joined Lucy and David in the lab the day after Halloween to go over the results of the rat kidneys they had removed, dissected, stained, and examined that day.
After they'd finished discussing their findings, he sat back and peered at Lucy. “You okay?” he said. “You've been awfully quiet. Not like you.”
“It's been a lousy day.”
“What happened?”
She didn't answer, so David said, “One of the rats didn't die easily. The guillotine jammed halfway through its neck and it was squirming around, screaming, blood spraying all over the place… It took a while to get the blade out.” He looked at Lucy, but she didn't say anything. He said, “It was a lot to clean up.”
“I’ll bet,” James said. “You guys want to go get a beer?”
“Sounds good to me,” David said.
“Lucy?”
“Yeah, all right.” She stood up. “Let me go wash my hands. For the next ten minutes.”
“Out, damned spot?” David said.
“Something like that.”
At the bar, she ordered her usual scotch, while the guys got beer. She and James sat side by side in the booth. His leg was warm against hers, and he rested his left hand on her thigh when he wasn't using it to gesticulate. He was in an ebullient mood-he had just found out that day that an article of his had been accepted for publication.
“A byline in Science” David said. “Pretty impressive, James.”
“There's always someone doing better,” he said. “You guys know Ron Johnson, right?”
“I met him once or twice around the department,” David said.
“Yeah, well, he's getting a book published-and I mean mass market, not some university press.”
“What is it?”
“I can't remember what it's called, but it's some kind of simplified overview of genetics-a real science lite book, with everything dumbed down so idiots can feel like they've mastered a subject they don't actually understand at all and wouldn't be able to in a million years. He'll probably make a fortune on it. Nothing people like more than to buy books that make them think they're not as stupid as they are.” He curled his lip. “Not that Ron's exactly genius material himself.”
“Really?” David said. “I’ve mostly heard good things about him.”
“He's an idiot,” James said. “He's done some decent research in the past, but last year he married this woman who's a religious nut and now he goes to church all the time, sings in the choir, recites his little prayers-the whole thing.”
Lucy said, “Going to church doesn't automatically make you an idiot.”
“It does in my book. A scientist should know better.”
“So long as he's not going around teaching creationism, I don't see what difference it makes.”
“How about the Tooth Fairy?” James said. “What if he were going around saying he believes in the Tooth Fairy? Would you still call him a good scientist?”
“So long as he was still a good scientist, sure. There are plenty of intelligent people who believe in God, James.”
“Nope,” James said. “People who believe in God are de facto idiots. Unless they're just claiming to believe in God to promote themselves with the stupid people who really do. In that case, they're politicians.”
David laughed. “Good one,” he said, and he and James high-fived each other.
Lucy just shook her head. “Everyone who disagrees with you is an idiot. Have you noticed that?”
“Actually, I have,” James said. “Sad but true.”
“Isn't it possible-I realize this may blow your mind as a concept-but isn't it possible that not everything is as obvious as you think it is? That maybe there are other ways of thinking than yours, and that some of those other ways might not be entirely idiotic?”
James furrowed his brow exaggeratedly. Then he shook his head. “Nope. I’m right, they're wrong. Case closed.”
“I don't always agree with you.”
“That's okay.” He patted her leg. “Everyone makes mistakes, sweetheart.”
She knocked his hand off. “You're an asshole, you know that?”
“Come on, Luce, you hate religion as much as I do. Why are you defending this guy?”
“I don't know,” she said. “Maybe Ron gets something out of his religion that we don't understand. It's possible. People's brains work differently. And if it doesn't interfere with his work, then let him have it and don't call him an idiot for it.”
“Even though he is one?”
She thumped her scotch glass down. “What about Dickens? What about Einstein? There are lots of wildly brilliant people who've believed in God.”
“They probably just pretended to so they wouldn't piss off the mass population of idiots. We all do what we have to to survive.” He tilted his throat back and drank some beer. “I’m bored with this subject,” he said as he set the bottle back down. “So, David, Lucy tells me you have a girlfriend. Who is she and why aren't you calling her right now and telling her to come join us?”
David shrugged. “We're just dating. It's not a girlfriend thing yet.
“She at UCLA?”
“Yeah.”
“Postdoc?”
“Actually,” David said, “she's an undergraduate.”
James hooted at that. “You're kidding me.”
“A junior.”
“Come on, dude, you can't go fishing in that pond. You start with undergrads, you'll get a taste for them and you won't be able to stop. There are tons of guys like that in the department, dirty old men who like little girls. You don't want to go there.”
“I wasn't pla
“What does she want to do when she graduates?” James asked.
“Well, she's premed-”
“A doctor, then,” James said. “And, since she's a girl, I’m guessing either a pediatrician or an OB. That's what they all want to be.”
“Why do you always have to generalize about people?” Lucy said. “I was premed and I didn't want to be a pediatrician or an OB.”
“What did you want to be?” James asked.