Star Death. Leo Emmanuel Lochard
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evenings ago. The school did not really assign it to him; but given what has been going on with the sun and the Earth for the past two weeks, teachers had encouraged students to report any unusual happenings while refraining from inciting make-belief or forged events to gain attention.
“Dad, Mom, you should see this. It’s amazing. You remember the meat left-over from the day before yesterday—from two days ago. Today is Thursday; I left it in a covered bowl on Tuesday evening in the shed in order to see what bacteria and parasites would do to it. It’s 7:00pm now; so that’s about 50 hours ago because we ate at about 5:00pm on Tuesday. But nothing happened to the meat. I mean, for two whole days—it smells as fresh as when I put it into the bowl—it’s as if decay had stopped, or as if bacteria could not ‘do their job,’ which is, devouring the meat to the point where it would start rotting and smelling. What do you think, Dad, Mom? Do you think that’s significant, that something ‘unusual’ or ‘strange’ is happening?”
“Can we see it?” asked John.
“Yes!” entreated Claire. That’s a good idea. Then after smelling and evaluating it, we might have a better opinion on the subject.”
“Ok, Mom, Dad, I’ll show it to you.”
John and Claire followed Marc and Jeanie to the shed—Jeanie was 14 years old; she entered high school this very year. All came into the shed as Marc turned the light on for better navigation. John and his wife stood side by side as they reached for the covered plastic bowl to which Marc pointed on the shed’s table. Claire proceeded to open it very carefully as John watched in earnest. They looked at it and smelled it very closely. Picking up a fork from the shed’s table, Claire lifted the morsel of meat very slowly to look underneath it, as John held the bowl in his two palmed hands.
“Did you add anything at all to the meat before you stored it?”
“No, Dad. I did not. I mean, it’s a piece of steak. I stored it the way it left the house on Tuesday.”
“What do you think, honey?” John said, talking to Claire.
“Well, this meat is as fresh as when we ate it, at least from what I can tell and smell. Wouldn’t you say so too, John?”
“Yes, it’s my opinion too. But we are not scientists in the true sense of the word and have no laboratory equipment here. I wonder if we could call the school or the University of Illinois, since your teachers had told you to report anything ‘unusual’ and then they could examine it in their labs.”
“Yes, Mom, Dad, let’s do that, please. I want to know why after more than 48 hours the meat has not degraded, decayed, or rotted. I am doing well in biology class and that could count towards by class project if Mr. Pirkalmehr agrees.”
“And, it’s on-going,” added John. “No smell still.”
Marc’s father, John, resealed the plastic bowl wherein the piece of steak was stored, and turned the shed light off.
They summarily returned to the farm house as Claire was engaged in retrieving the school’s phone numbers. But it was nearly 8:00pm now, on a Thursday. They decided to call Marc’s biology teacher at his home; he had connections with the university and if anyone could do anything, he would certainly be a good candidate.
Luke Pirkalmehr had been teaching biology for a few years and took care to listen to the Trinklung’s report, after which, he also talked to Marc, and to even Jeanie who was also a living witness. John Trinklung said a few words about his son’s assiduous and diligent adherence to his teachers’ instructions, for which Luke Pirkalmehr expressed appreciation too.
“Is there any way you could bring the sealed covered bowl with the meat to the high school to me and then I could talk to other scientists there for a laboratory examination; hopefully that would tell us something about why those little microbes were not or rather are still not hungry, so to speak.”
“Just a minute, Luke, please.”
After a few seconds talking to his family and his wife, they all agreed that would work out extremely well, especially for Marc who made the discovery and who was so excited about the prospects of being engaged in an important microbial experiment.
“Luke,” said John Trinklung, “We would be glad to do that. We can meet you at the high school in about 40 minutes. And we will bring every thing. Is that ok with you?”
“Fine, of course, John. I’ll see you in a few minutes then. Thank you.”
“O, we thank you, Luke,” enjoined Claire. “And we’re so glad to be helping Marc out. He is so excited about this and we too, in a way, for we appreciate his interest in biology and other subjects, which will ‘serve him well’ if he decides to go to college. Thanks again, Luke, please forgive our interruption of your evening.”
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