Something of a Kind - By Miranda Wheeler Page 0,53
propped open with wooden wedges. A man and a woman dressed in frumpy work attire sat in close proximity. Their voices traveled, too loud for their lifeless expressions.
Feigning patience, Aly waited in the doorway.
“The report holds: distinct saginal crest, approximately between eight feet and eight and a half feet tall, blurred motion, visible eyeshine,” his voice was monotone.
“Seems feasible.”
“It could’ve been a deer,” Adam offered. “Distinct saginal crest, eight-foot? Hardly,” the woman scoffed. “There was a statement issued claiming reports consistent hold reason to believe the eyes have cones, similar to canines, that assist in night seeing for nocturnal behaviors.”
“Was that another forum comment, an anonymous tip, a theory…? Or was it actually, specifically circulated by the B.F.R.O. this time?” He snickered.
“Irrelevant,” she muttered, squaring her shoulders.
“Maggie,” he stated. She balled her fists, resting them on her hips. As he nodded towards the door, Maggie swiveled around. Aly realized he wasn’t reprimanding his partner, but instead announcing her presence.
Maggie stood briskly, smoothing the fabric of her tan slacks and extending a hand. As she moved, bleached wisps fell from the redheaded bun knotted at the nape of her neck. Aly accepted the shake. The grip was too firm, as painful as the woman’s strained expression. Maggie’s dragon-clawed nails left deep imprints in Aly palm.
“You must be Gregory’s daughter,” Adam offered, smiling tightly. When Aly stepped forward to enter the room, his head cocked to the side. “I don’t see the resemblance.”
She leveled her gaze with his. He blanched.
It’s always in the eyes.
“Take a seat, Miss Glass. I’m Doctor Margaret Stone, this is Doctor Adam Birnbaum,” Maggie presented, her chest inflating with confidence at their titles, the only waver in the monotone.
“I’d introduce myself, but it seems unnecessary,” Aly said, carefully selecting each word.
With the woman’s arm still outstretched, she took the seat across from them. Despite the hardwood chairs and red accents, the room seemed like it belonged with a criminal investigation. She felt like she was an eye-witness to a homicide rather than an animal sighting. With the look of death in Maggie’s eyes, perhaps a suspect would be more fitting.
Aly forced a smile, her chin rising through the intimidation. “I understand you have questions.”
The doctors turned to each other nervously, sharing a curt nod. Rather than relaxing, Maggie began to pace and Adam stiffened. Anxiety crawled up Aly’s spine. She leaned back in her chair, away from the table. Manila folders were slathered across like background checks, filled with evidence she thought would be received joyously.
I didn’t do anything wrong. I’ve got to stay calm.
Instead of acceptance, she was being questioned. Noah’s hesitation and Luke and Owen’s refusal made sense with epiphany- level clarity. It reminded her of a childhood punishment, where her mother jerked her chin up with two fingers and demanded, ‘Are we clear?’
Crystal.
In speaking, Aly open the floodgates.
“We have to be extremely selective in what we deem worthy of investigation, nonetheless what we file as a legitimate claim.” Maggie’s voice was tight.
“You have to understand that encounters like this are extremely rare, and from our research, the location seems near impossible,” Adam frowned. “Not only does the likelihood of a hoax appear to be incredibly high, seeing as the information here”
“Frankly, it’s too good to be true,” Maggie interrupted. “That is often the biggest concern in our field. The Patterson-film argument has been rolling under that argument since it was released. Which is to say, it’s perplexing how you can suddenly offer so much… insight. Multiple witnesses, all children of well-versed natives or specialists, with an eerily consistent story, collecting more evidence than most in the field can collect in weeks – sometimes more than what’s uncovered in entire expeditions and reporting it immediately after the sighting with nearly intact record?”
“That’s a lot of stars falling into place,” Adam continued. “You also have to consider that reporting it in one of the only areas we don’t investigate isn’t only convenient, it’s unlikely. From our decades-old research, we have a basic understanding of the species, and in an area with such little resources – the ecosystem doesn’t fit.”
“They pull bears out of dumpsters in the midd le of the city, and you’ve already ruled that the environment doesn’t fit?” Aly offered, her voice high. Her nails dug into her elbows. She hadn’t realized her clasped hands had flexed into crossed arms. It was standoffish and abrasive, mirroring their passive aggressive monotones. Too calm, almost airily, she murmured, “Unbelievable.”
They’re just like my father – trying to make