I wish I could type that the talk to the kids went well. I wish I could say that at one point when I spoke about the nesting techniques of the Carolina Wren each little child held their head up to me like baby Ospreys reaching up for digested chum from the mother’s beak. That on our way out Boyce told me I really got to those kids, and three of them were on the elementary school roof wishing they could fly.
None of that happened, though.
I knew Boyce was going to speak to the class too, but I had no idea there was a third speaker. One of the students' uncles named Jonathan Keegman, a well dressed doctor who gave us business cards, sat next to us in the front of the class. When Boyce Jr.’s teacher, Ms. Felton, asked which of us would like to go first, I stayed quiet. I figured the kids would ask so many questions—“Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Wetherbee, you say the Dark-Eyed Junco’s song is different than the Yellow-Eyed Junco? How so?”—that the others wouldn’t have time to go. Boyce didn’t speak because Boyce didn’t want to speak. So Dr. Keegman said he’d be honored, and then he stood up before the class and asked them if everyone knew what a doctor did.
That’s right, he said. Doctors save lives. For about ten minutes he told stories about saving lives, and he really had the kids going when he told the story about how he saved a puppy’s life when it ate too much cotton candy. He told the kids that the boy who gave that dog cotton candy didn’t know it was bad because he wasn’t a scientist. Scientists, he said, teach us about all kinds of things. He said scientists teach us the truth while what we hear from other people is sometimes just gossip and lies. He said people don’t always mean to tell lies, they just thought they were telling the truth. He asked the kids if they ever had an experience where they found out something they knew was true turned out to be false. I looked over at Ms. Felton and she was kind of nervous that none of the kids were raising their hands, so I raised mine and said, “People thought halcyon birds, or the kingfisher bird, nested on the water, but that’s not possible.” That kind of caught him off-guard though, and he looked back at the kids and asked again.
When none of the kids spoke he gave an example. For instance, he said, let’s say a whole bunch of people told you that something bad really happened. A whole lot of people said it, it must be true, right? “You’d be surprised how many people still think that about the kingfisher,” I said, but again, he was clearly not looking for something from me. So he went on: but what if the only reason they thought the really bad thing happened was because they were taught that—taught that by the supposed victims of that bad thing. And then what if you found out that those supposed victims were using that bad thing that never happened to increase gold and gem prices during economic panics?
That’s when Ms. Felton stood up and shouted for this to stop. I think Boyce had fallen asleep, because his head shot up real quick. Dr. Keegman told her that he didn’t mean anything in particular, but Ms. Felton told him we were out of time, and maybe we should pack things up and leave. Boyce was confused but didn’t really want an explanation so he started to pack his records up. He shouted to Boyce Jr. that he’d see him at home and waited at the doorway for me. Dr. Keegman and I were awkwardly being whisked to the door by Ms. Felton, and Dr. Keegman said, “Freedom of speech, kids! Freedom of speech.” She moved us all into the hallway and slammed the door.
When Boyce and I went to the van I saw something and rushed back to Boyce Jr.’s class. I knocked on the glass but everybody’s head was down. Even Ms. Felton’s. She raised her head and waved me away. I came in anyway and told her that I’d seen an Indigo Bunting nest outside, and I could bring it in. She told me no, and that I should leave. “I’m positive the nest has been left for the fall,” I said. But then she just put her head down again. All the kids were looking at me, and I thought they could all go for an Indigo Bunting nest, so I said, “Do you know, Ms. Felton, they use spider webs to keep the nest together?” And then she told the kids to put their head back down and asked me to leave.
I asked Boyce what happened back there, and he told me he drifted off as soon as the suit started talking. He didn’t want to listen to how great that doctor was, nor think about Boyce listening to how great that doctor was. I told him that we had Dr. Keegman’s business card, so we could start a slow-burn revenge by having things delivered to his office. He thought that was pretty great, so we started brainstorming.
