“Since you are so fond of cats, I take it you won’t be performing any of your experiments on them,” Metcalf observed sarcastically.
Aboud shrugged. “You mistake me. I have no particular attachment to the species. If they suit my purposes, I will use them, but I think I should rather begin with the common rat. Genus rattus, species rattus. It is fitting that he should be the first to die in our experiments.”
Abraham rose wincing, trying to mask the pain the effort cost him. He wasn’t that old yet. Piqued that the doctor should witness his moment of weakness, he said petulantly, “The Black Death was brought to Western shores by shipboard rats from your part of the world. On the vessels of foreign traders.”
Aboud chose not to rise to the bait. He stared coolly at his benefactor. “Then it is only fitting that the humble rat and a humble foreigner such as I should be the ones to bring the pestilence full circle. As it began, so shall it end.”
“Oh yes,” Abraham agreed softly. “We are fast approaching the end.”
Chapter 7—School Daze
Faye was in the kitchen kneading bread dough. Hannah was working quietly at the computer which had taken up permanent residence on the dining room table when a loud thumping at the front door interrupted both their occupations.
“Gracious, who’s making that racket?” Faye murmured half to herself, wiping her hands and heading toward the front of the house.
“I’ll get it.” Hannah sprang from her seat, but the door burst open on its own to reveal Zachary, out of breath, as he lugged a long cardboard box into the parlor.
“Somebody get the door,” he ordered as he hoisted the box upright and dragged it against the far wall.
Hannah complied.
Faye noticed that her house guest glanced into the foyer mirror to check her appearance. She needn’t have worried. Most teenage girls would have envied her fashion model figure, her straight blond hair, and her perfect ivory complexion. Hannah apparently cared a great deal what Zachary thought of her.
Faye observed that, for his part, her descendent had stopped wearing ripped blue jeans and faded T-shirts whenever he came to visit. Today he had donned corduroy pants and a fisherman’s sweater. He had also traded his porcupine hair style for a modest side part. The old woman guessed the change was motivated by a reciprocal desire to make a good impression on Hannah.
“I see you got it,” Faye observed cryptically.
Zach flashed a conspiratorial grin. “Yeah, it was the last one in stock, but I got it.”
“Got what?” Hannah asked in bemusement. The girl left the mirror and scurried over to see what he had brought.
“A present for you, my dear,” Faye replied.
“But it isn’t my birthday,” she objected in a flustered tone.
“No, we missed that some months back because you neglected to tell us it was your fifteenth birthday. Consider this a very belated gift.”
Hannah eyed the tall box dubiously. “Well, thank you.”
Zach couldn’t resist the urge to tease her. Turning to his ancestor, he said, “I don’t think she wants it, Gamma. I better take it back.”
Hannah rushed to stand between Zach and the box. “Oh no, don’t do that.”
“Maybe I should turn it over so that you’ll know what’s inside,” Zach offered. He flipped the back side of the box so that it faced the front of the room. The label displayed a picture of the contents.
“It’s... it’s...” Hannah stuttered. “A computer desk!”
“Not just ‘a’ computer desk,” Zach corrected. “Your computer desk. See, there’s a compartment on one side for a printer and for a tower on the other side. Then in the middle, there’s a drawer that slides out to hold the keyboard. Plus, there’s this cool shelf attachment that rests on the back of the desk so you can store books there too. You like?”
The girl beamed at him. “Oh, I like it very much. Whose idea was this?” She looked from the old woman to the boy.
They traded knowing glances before Faye answered. “As my great-great-something or other grandson pointed out to me, if I were to purchase a desk for you, I might have my dining room table restored to its original use. I told him the sort of desk I thought would be appropriate and he shopped around until he found one that would suit.”
“Thank you both, very much!” She rushed to give Faye a hug but expressed her thanks to Zach by smiling at him from a distance. Then she asked, “But where will the desk go? There isn’t enough space in my bedroom.”
“I thought we might designate a portion of the front parlor as your study corner,” suggested Faye.
“Here, over here,” Hannah pointed eagerly. “Right by the picture window so I can look out at the world.”
“Not much to see but grass and trees,” Zach murmured. “But the customer is always right. The corner by the window it is.”
It took him all of five minutes to relocate a curio stand and clear enough space for the desk. Then he moved the coffee table to the side of the room and laid the cardboard box flat in the middle of the floor.
Faye fetched scissors so that Zach could flip the box open.
Hannah stared at the blocks of wood inside. “I thought you said it was a desk.”
Zach, still kneeling on the floor, stared up at her in disbelief. “It’s not collapsible. I have to assemble it.”
“You?” Hannah sounded dubious.
“Yeah, me,” Zach retorted in an injured tone. “Believe it or not, I’m good at this sort of thing.”
Faye interceded. “Never mind, you two. While Zach is unpacking the pieces, I’ll fetch the tools from the kitchen. Hannah, you can bring us all some lemonade and those oatmeal cookies you baked last night.”
***
It took two hours to finish assembling the desk. The process might
