Alina's Crossing: Guardians of Terrin (2 page)

BOOK: Alina's Crossing: Guardians of Terrin
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I knew he
knew
it wasn't a dance and the fact that he found my display
humorous was like the sun peeking out behind storm clouds. A little light
shining against the darkness.

I was embarrassed, but did my
best to tone down the eight shades of red I was turning. I thought to myself,
'Remain calm Alina, remain calm'
.

 “Dr. Campbell! I'm so
sorry...um...I'm usually so prompt...please don't judge me on this
solely...ugh...” I stammered.

I stopped myself from yammering
on, extending my hand out to him in a proper and professional manner.

“Dr. Campbell, I'm Alina
Baxter. It's so nice to meet you.” I said.

‘Please take my hand.’
I
thought.

Dr. Campbell, with amusement
still twinkling in his eyes, took my proffered hand and shook it.

 “Hello Alina, I have been
looking forward to meeting you. You come highly recommended from your
professors. I had a long talk with Dr. Brown regarding the promise you show in
this field. I believe she wrote a stellar recommendation for you regarding this
internship. You are a recent graduate of the university?”

“Yes, I graduated last month.”
I replied smoothly.

“With honors?” he asked.

“Yes, top of my class sir.” I
replied.

“Very nice. Shall we go talk
then? Unless, perhaps, you would like to go for another run?” he said.

I looked at him questioningly.

 “I was riding my bike to
the museum and saw you running from the broken down bus. I didn't know it was
you, of course, until you stormed passed me and ran into my office. You were
shouting at people to
'move out of your
way'
and
'watch out'
, so, I
figured I would give you a few minutes to collect yourself.” he said, amusement
dancing in his eyes.

I could tell he actually wanted
to laugh, but was trying to be respectful.

Stunned, I merely laughed,
unable to believe that I didn't miss out on my chance. After all the false starts
and chaos I was faced with, it turned out that the renowned archaeologist I was
hoping to work with for his experience and his brilliance, also happened to be
incredibly kind and possessed a good sense of humor. It was his ability at
finding humor at my unfortunate circumstances that made me able to finally
enter into the calm I needed.

I was now ready for the next
part.

Dr. Campbell’s office was quite
unexpected, as was his appearance. He was a tall man, mid-fifties, but very
attractive. His dark hair had just a smattering of gray, the kind that makes a
man look debonair and mysterious.

He was also very fit.

I had heard stories about his
attractiveness, but it was nothing compared to the actual
him
sitting in front of me. His office was very masculine but
extremely sparse, with a large mahogany desk that housed a phone, rolodex and a
five-tier desktop filing shelf. His desk was neat and tidy with no papers
strewn about. There was a huge bookcase that spanned the whole width of the
wall behind him. The shelf was filled with books and I was itching to go over
and look at what Dr. Campbell kept in his personal collection.


What did he read?
Was his
book collection all about his work? Did he have any guilty pleasures?’
I
wondered.

There were also the standard
framed diplomas that one would expect to see in a professional's office, but it
appeared that the books were the only personal touch he had, other than the
plants he had everywhere. I noticed they were real plants too, not silk ones.
Dr. Campbell had a green thumb.

I’ll have to try my hand at gardening if all goes well
, I thought.

The space was not what I would
have thought a renowned archaeologist's office would look like. I actually
never considered what an archaeologist's office
would
look like, but it would seem likely that there would maybe be
statues or bits of pottery or a golden Egyptian monument. I knew my office
would possess those things.

If you did not know who he was
or what he did, his office certainly would not clue you in to who inhabited the
space or what they did for a living, that's for sure. That fact intrigued me.
Maybe this wasn't his whole life, only his job.

That thought also disappointed
me.

Archaeology was my life and I
wanted to turn it into my job. How could anyone who had such a specialized job
not be completely consumed by it?

‘Was I the exception? Had I given up too much of my life
working towards my goal?’
I
wondered.

 
I quickly pushed those questions out of my head.
I could self-analyze at a later time.

He gestured for me to sit in
the chair opposite his desk. I erased any thoughts other than archaeology from
my mind. I was so tired from my excursions that the opportunity to sit and
compose myself felt wonderful. The cold gust of air blowing from a vent right
above me was helpful. I needed to breathe and focus on the task at hand. This
was, after all, the biggest, most important thing in my life up until that
point.

The sweat had stopped pouring
from my body and I had fixed my hair. The frantic feeling I had was gone and I
was now feeling more in control.

Dr. Campbell asked me if I
wanted a cup of coffee and I graciously accepted. Taking an indulgent sip and
relishing in its glory, I felt confident that all was going to be well from
that point on.

Dr. Campbell started speaking,
having pulled out a stack of papers from one of the slots in his file holder,
which were my resume and recommendations from my professors at school. He asked
me questions about my goals after school and what I would hope to accomplish
during the internship, flipping through the papers and asking me questions I
had anticipated, including what sort of dig I would like to run when I was on
my own. Everything he asked I was prepared for. I felt comfortable and
confident as the interview took its course. I believe I even got a little cocky
towards the end, adorably so, if I do say so myself.

Dr. Campbell had, after an hour
or so, placed both hands on his desk, indicating it was time for the interview
to stop
.

‘So soon?’
I
thought, disappointed.

“If you have time, I always
like to show my candidates a little around the back here. That is, if you would
like to. I believe that if you have gotten this far, giving you a little tour
of where you will be working is only fair. If you are not picked, at least you
have gotten to see more than any other person just coming into the museum for a
regular visit would be allowed to see. I also think it is important for a
person to see what their working conditions are beforehand. There are some
rooms you may have to be in, windowless and small, that sort of thing. Are you
up for it?” he inquired.

‘Why would he even ask?’
I
wondered.

I was salivating.

“Yes sir, of course. I would be
honored.” I said politely, trying not to be over enthusiastic. I was trying to
show the appropriate amount of responsibility to excitement ratio.

 “Just leave your
belongings here, and you can grab them on your way out.” he said as I started
to grab my purse.

He proceeded to take me on a
tour of the goings on behind the scenes at the museum. I saw research lab after
research lab, the carbon dating room, the frozen sample storage room, people
working on new displays for the museum, people cleaning, preserving and
maintaining precious things found on digs from faraway places I had only ever dreamed
of seeing.

I was in my happy place.

People in white lab coats
smiled at me and nodded at Dr. Campbell as we passed and I knew if I was given
the chance, I would fit in very well with all the other people in this
building.

Dr. Campbell and I entered into
a cold room. He explained that this was just one of many climate controlled
storage rooms throughout the museum. Then he let me in on a little secret. Half
of the items up in the museum were not real. The real items, those deemed
extremely valuable, were stored here and fakes were up on display. Dr. Campbell
told me it happens all the time. Seeing the surprise in my eyes, he put a
reassuring grasp on my arm.

 “One of the many things
in this life that will surprise you my dear and certainly not the last.” he said
with a wink.

 
“In this room, we have something very
special.” he said. “Have you ever heard of the Dublin stone tablet?” he asked
with a dramatic pause and a small, knowing smile.

I think my mouth went dry.

“This stone was found fifty
years ago by children who were playing in an empty corn field. How it got there
is a mystery. The most intriguing part of this mystery is of course the
language, the composition of the material and how the characters were carved
into the stone. It is extremely porous, not easily carved into. It almost looks
like laser engraved technology was used in the carving of the tablet, but that
technology wasn't even invented when this stone was found. The language is
perplexing and no one has ever been able to decipher what the symbols mean.” He
said.

“It was found in Dublin, as in
Dublin Ireland?” I asked with awe.

Dr. Campbell laughed. “No, it
was found in Dublin, Ohio.”

The initial awe in my reaction
had receded.

“But don't let that fact deter
your excitement about this piece.” Dr. Campbell interjected quickly. “The fact
that this stone was found in Ohio and made from a material that we have not
discovered is quite intriguing. We have yet to pinpoint the material the stone
is made of and weirder still, the material seems to be resistant to carbon
dating. We have not been able to get any readings from the samples. This stone
is quite mysterious.” He said.

I felt the beginnings of awe
returning. A mysterious stone from unknown origins. A scientific mystery. It
somehow seemed more magical than science, which peaked my curiosity back up to
a level that Dr. Campbell would find more appropriate.

“It could have a shopping list
on it. This is my true passion, Alina. The culmination of all my life's work
rests on this one piece of stone. I hope to be able to decipher the characters
on it one day.” He said.

“Is it in here? In this room?”
I asked.

“Yes, it is. Would you like to
see it?” he asked.

Just then, his hip started
beeping. He pulled out his pager, looking at the number.

With a frown, he said, “I must
take this call. Just wait here a moment. I am going to use the phone in the
hall. I don't carry a cell phone, except for when I'm travelling.” he explained
as he exited the room.

I looked around once I was
alone. I was in a room with 2,000 year old objects and a stone with
untranslated mysterious text.

‘Alone, alone, alone.’
I
thought.

I wanted to touch it all.

Everything.

I controlled myself, knowing
that it probably wasn't going to be a good thing for my chances of gaining this
internship to start scavenging through priceless artifacts the moment I was
left unsupervised. I sat on a stool, crossed my ankles and put my hands primly
in my lap, waiting for Dr. Campbell to return to the room.

When he hadn't come back almost
ten minutes later, I decided I had better see if everything was ok. I peeked
out the door, expecting to see Dr. Campbell out in the hallway, but he wasn't
there.

‘Okay, this is weird.’
I
thought.

Maybe he had an emergency that
he had to run back to his office for. I shrugged and decided it was best to get
back into the room he left me in.

‘He'll be
back for me.’
I assured myself.

I sat back on the stool, drumming
my fingers on the spotless stainless steel work table. I pulled out my phone
and decided to check the happenings on social media but there was no signal.

I stood up in a huff, walking
restlessly around the large room with my arms defiantly folded
.

‘What was
one little peak in the drawers going to really do?’
the evil little devil on my shoulder thought.

I fought an internal war,
resisting my insane natural curiosity with all the strength I had. The
temptation was just too great.

It was all right there and so
was I.

I tip-toed over to the large,
refrigerated storage container and started my illicit search by peeking inside
one drawer. I hesitantly opened it, only wide enough to see that it was just
instruments. Of course, my little act of rebellion would yield sub-par results.

I decided I would try again and
the next drawer gave me better results. I was looking at drawer full of
different sized clay bowls. To me, this was like finding a pile full of gold. I
didn't dare touch, but I could see the different colors of the clay and was
able to identify the different types of materials that were used in creating
some of these pieces.

BOOK: Alina's Crossing: Guardians of Terrin
4.55Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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