Page 5 of How Does It Feel?

Golden light from the heavens beamed down dramatically over the package as angels sang a victorious tune—at least in my head.

After dramatically picking up the abandoned clipboard, Cecelia finished her task and handed her signature back to the shocked mailman.

“Told you she was off her rocker,” she shouted dramatically for both of us to hear as he hurried out the front doors.

I scooped up the large box and practically ran back to my office to open it up. If it were lighter, I might have actually attempted to run had it not been so expensive. I’d been waiting on this equipment for nearly a year. A year! My hands began to tremor, and my vision blurred from excitement. This was better than any Christmas morning I had ever had, even though those had stopped when I was a young kid anyway.

The ALMScope B/20c was the best in-field compound microscope available. This was it! When Stanley, my boss, told me to just “deal with it” after I had begged for a new microscope, I decided to take matters into my own hands. Months ago, the old one had quit working completely. I had to have one though. How else would I find them? I haven’t been able to proceed in so many of my projects without one. Plus now, when I get called to Mexico to help track the monarchs, I can take it with me. This will hurry everything up, and then I will find them.

I was glowing, I was sure of it. Like someone had poured a fresh pitcher of hope into my system.

I set the box on my small metal desk, ignoring the adorable cage of brown and gray baby bunnies to my right. They were ready for rerelease today. I made a mental note to get Cliff to help me rerelease them in the meadow today before we did anything else. I also needed to check through my books and letters for any more details from my family on when I might get the chance to see them.

I grabbed the pair of orange-handled scissors from my very fancy Solo cup pencil holder and cut into the tape that held the large cardboard box together. Nearly vibrating with joy, I peeled back the tissue paper and pulled out the Styrofoam package prison to reveal (cue the angelic music and shimmer effects) the most beautiful compound microscope ever!

I could have hugged it! Happiness doused my mind’s interior as I carefully pulled the shiny scope against my chest and closed my eyes, finally feeling a bit of peace. Everything would be okay now.

I was readying my glass slides, about to take them for a trial run, when my cell phone rang. The sound of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons played loudly from my dark-green backpack on the floor.

With the temperament and equal mentality of a pouting toddler, I carefully—yet dramatically—set my new slides on the desk and made certain they were secure before I pulled the moth-covered iPhone case from my bag’s front pocket. I didn’t recognize the number, so they would get my very official and professional salutation.

“Hello, this is Cal-Callie Peterson?”

“Callie, it’s Mary again. How are you?”

I froze solid, afraid to move for fear the tiniest shift in my appendages would alter the course of this conversation. Today was going to be the best day ever.

“Mary, oh my stars. Mary from the Lepidoptera Migratory Society?”

Oh. My. Stars. This was it! The call I had dreamed about for years was happening.

The other woman chuckled. “Yes, the butterfly lady. Listen, I just reviewed your work from last year’s Actias luna migration. We had no idea they were so abundant in Willow Springs! Your thoughts on using mycelium to eradicate the Compsilura concinnata are absolutely astounding.”

I shifted to sit in my chair, attempting not to make a sound. My body hovered for a second, praying the ominous screech from the wheels wouldn’t ruin this dream-like moment.

“Oh, thank you! Ever since I was little, I’ve had somewhat of an obsession with winged creatures. If I can do anything to help them, I’d love to dedicate my time to the cause. We ran a few similar trials with the Pteropus scapulatas, and the megabats showed significant promise with parasitic immunity.” I let out a breath.

Did I sound too eager? I needed to follow these monarchs, the luna moths were proving to be leading me nowhere.

“Well, listen, I know that this is important to you, but—it’s just—how do I say this?” The woman’s alto voice would forever be etched into my memory.

Please let this be good news!

“Say what?” I asked as I attempted to steady my voice from raising seven octaves due to the excitement of what I was certain was about to be said. It had to.

“You know that if you get the position you requested in Mexico, you’ll be in the field . . . for years? Some of the others are concerned that a young, pretty thing such as yourself might . . . well, might end up wanting more than the lonely field life of chasing butterflies. It’s not as glamorous as a lot of people think. You don’t have kids or a husband, and I don’t mean to pry, but don’t you think that’s something you’ll want? Especially at your age?”

I tried to breathe but forgot how. Darkness crept into the edges of my sight. I could hear the rejection lacing her voice.

“No,” I said, feeling frustrated. “I don’t have kids or a husband, and I won’t be getting either. Just because I’m twenty-nine doesn’t mean my hormones have gone feral and I feel the required need to reproduce, Mary. I-I know what I applied for, and I plan to see it through.” Did I sound too stern? I added a huffed laugh, just in case.

“Believe me, honey, I know. It’s just most of the people doing this project are older with grown children or retired, you know how it is. We’ve already lived, so it’s easy for us to focus on the work at hand. Listen, I think you’d be great. The theories you have sent over here were more amazing than anything I’ve seen in a really long time. It could be life changing to the conservation of Lepidoptera, and I personally don’t care about your personal life. I’ll do what I can to sway the others.”

“Umm . . . thanks.” I wasn’t sure what to say.

Words eluded me, and the wind had been knocked out of me. The awkwardness in the conversation hung thick like a damp blanket now.

“The Actias luna should be making their way to you next week or so, isn’t that correct? From what I understand, they have been hit pretty hard with the Compsilura concinnata as well. Be surprised if you even see any at all again this year, but if you do . . . anyway, I will let you go, Callie. I’ll speak with the others and tell them how committed you are. Send me some pictures of the moths if you get any good ones!”