Abstraction ➳ Owen Grady

one

ANTICIPATION BUBBLED IN the atmosphere of the Coliseum. Just under five thousand undergraduates sat on the arena floor and in the stands, wearing mortarboards and gowns of red and gold, with cords of various colors and stoles of white. Family and friends waved from their seats and snapped pictures. Alysanne Sattler scanned over the crowd as she stood in the line to cross the stage and receive her diploma from the University of New Mexico for a Bachelor of Science and one from the Honors College.

Five people were there to watch her, they were all clumped together at the top of the section. Her mom was there, in her wheelchair, with her Aunt Ellie standing behind it, and Uncle Mark next to her. Her two small cousins, Charlie and Noah, were there too.

Her row was the next to join the queue for crossing the stage. All the while, she fiddled with the heavy bronze medallion around her neck. Both nervous and excited. It was like high school graduation, but so much better.

The Dean called her name and she froze until the girl behind her nudged her back. Alysanne crossed the stage, shook the administrations' hands and stopped for a quick picture. Two slips of paper said that she had completed four hard years of college and that now she could call herself a geologist, it wasn't quite where she wanted to be yet, though. "Congratulations, Class of 2003! You may now turn your tassels!" Caps were thrown into the air and rained back down on them all.

Alysanne tucked her cap and diplomas under her arm and joined the stream of new graduates that flooded into the parking lots surrounding the Coliseum. She didn't realize that she would go to another two universities and obtain a masters or doctorate, but she had big ambitions, and a name to live up to.

"Claire!" The redhead turned and waved her hands in frantic excitement. "We did it! We did it!" They both chanted, embracing one another. Claire Dearing had been her roommate and best friend since tenth grade. The two girls promised never to lose contact with one another, but as happens with life, some promises can't be kept. For the next two years they kept in touch, but then research and fieldwork consumed Alysanne's life and Claire had been swept up into the world of big business.

✹✹✹

Ten years after she first graduated, Alysanne was back at the site that launched her into the world of paleontology. The Lower Cambrian Harkless Formation. She and her crew of both professionals and undergrads were knees deep in a mucky annual stream from the winter's snowmelt. Their camp was a mile upstream, but vehicles weren't feasible to pass over the terrain and could potentially damage the fossils. Hiking with thirty pounds of equipment was the best solution. Slowly they all trudged through the canyon's muddy water until the land flattened out and the stream split into three.

Two weeks into the dig, a multitude of trace fossils and body fossils -trilobites, gastropods, and lophotrochozoan- had been unearthed under the June sun. Alysanne had gathered those involved in the summer field camp and her undergrads under the large marquee, explaining the anatomy of some of the better-preserved fossils and popular theories about their relationship with other fauna and flora. Her voice was drowned out by a passing jet plane, or so that was what they assumed it to be.

Wind shook the canvas tent and the wop-wop sound of a helicopter drew closer. Dust was thrown into the air at the dig site and into the tent as the blades of a helicopter juddered about in its attempt to land in the open nothingness of the Nevada Great Basin. She cursed aloud and ran to grab a sheet, tossing it over the exposure that was key to her newest paper. Others did the same and held down loose papers and lighter pieces of equipment. The helicopter landed and after a few moments, everything settled. Peter jogged over to Alysanne, still holding his cap to his head, "Hey boss, who the fuck is that?"

The tension and annoyance had not left her body or expression, "Some asshole who doesn't know how delicate these fossils are." Alysanne read the logo on the door and frowned, Masrani Global.

The copter's door slid back and someone quickly hopped down, dropping a stepstool on the bed of red sandstone. The man who stepped out was wearing a baby blue suit with a white shirt and black tie. Simon Masrani was out of place in this environment and out of his comfort zone, too. He looked at the gathered faces, all of which seemed to be either irritated or annoyed at the unplanned disruption. "Dr. Sattler?"

Alysanne stepped forward and extended her hand, though when she saw the mud and dirt caked onto her fingers she wiped them off on the legs of her shorts. Simon Masrani took her hand, seeming not to care about the dirt staining his white dress shoes. "You can call me Ally," she said with perfunctory courtesy. "What brings you out here, Mr. Masrani?"

"You," he replied with a fleeting smile, "We've been working on something new for the park and need opinions from the experts."

Ally laughed, not even bothering to conceal her distaste or the sardonic nature of it. "Then maybe you're looking for my aunt." Ellie, after all, was the expert on surviving Jurassic Park. "She'd be happy to tell you that it sounds like a bad idea." He opened his mouth either to object to further explain his presence but she continued, "Besides. I don't study dinosaurs, my interest lies in invertebrates from the Cambrian period. Unless you want trilobites crawling around on the bottom of an aquarium eating phytoplankton then I suggest you find another paleontologist."

Despite her sharp and bordering rude words, Simon Masrani laughed, only his was genuine and good-hearted. "She warned me you'd be a hard one to convince."

"Who?" She questioned, a quizzical inflection in her voice.

Masrani took a pair of sunglasses from his breast pocket, "Claire Dearing."

Something similar to shock came over Ally's countenance at that name. "Claire?" She asked, just to be sure that the heat had not gotten to her. It had been years since she had spoken to Claire, even longer since she had seen her.

Simon nodded, pleased to see that he had sparked some interest in the esteemed Dr. Sattler, "Yes, she's our park operations manager." That position had to suit Claire perfectly if she was still the same meticulous and punctual girl from high school and college. Sweat had begun beading up on Mr. Masrani's brow, "Can we continue this conversation out of this sun? Over dinner, perhaps?"

"Mr. Masrani, I can't just-," Ally stopped midsentence when the man raised his hand. "Simon, please," he interjected, knowing that he wouldn't easily convince her to leave the field site, even for a couple of hours. Simon Masrani fished a business card from his pocket and handed it to Dr. Sattler, "If you change your mind, or just get curious." He flashed a spurious smile before stepping back into the chopper.

Dust filled the air again.

Please share your thoughts and don't forget to vote! Also, if it seems like your drowning in scientific jargon, just let me know and I'll tone it down, as a geologist myself, I can get carried away.