Crows Read Online Free PDF Page A

saying things I never said. But they were things I was feeling and would’ve said if you had asked.”
    â€œI’m sorry. I’m lazy.”
    â€œI don’t mind. You didn’t make me sound silly.” She kissed her father good-­bye and departed.
    Ben shared the office with another teacher. His desk and the shelves hung on the wall and built of bricks and lumber on the floor held a number of blue-­green glass canning jars filled with life: walkingsticks, leopard frogs, banana spiders, cecropia moths, cockroaches, bull snakes, katydids, green darner dragonflies, echinoderms, ants and aphids, a box turtle, itself in a box on the floor, a slick of chlamydomonas. These jars spread over onto the other teacher’s desk, each jar bearing a label with the taxonomic title of the jar’s inhabitants, and the name LADYSMITH .
    Before taking a seat, Ben moved quickly from jar to jar, inspecting to see who needed what; who was alive, hungry, and who had died.
    â€œSit,” he said to Robert, gesturing to the other chair. “Ara is gone this hour.”
    On the seat of the chair was the skeleton of a bird, Corvus brachyrhynchos , and LADYSMITH on the wide black wood pedestal. The empty eye sockets staring made Robert uneasy. He heard Ben laugh behind him.
    â€œSorry. I impose on Ara so much—­on everyone, in fact—­it’s a wonder anyone puts up with me,” Ben said. He put the bird on the floor beneath his desk. “I must remember not to stretch out my legs,” he said. “That’s an eastern crow. Marvelous specimen; on the smallish side. I paid $225 for that. My own money.”
    He poured tepid coffee from a tarnished pot into two mugs. He gave one to Robert.
    â€œOlive is really not that good a swimmer,” he said.
    â€œAs I recall,” Robert said, “she won quite a few races for the high school team.”
    â€œShe works hard and I encourage her,” Ben said. “Hence she becomes a better swimmer than she would have been otherwise. That’s why she wins. I’ve got a son who is a better pitcher than his raw ability would indicate because of my encouragement. My youngest son—­I’m not sure what he will try to be, but I’ll work the same magic with him.”
    He made a face as he drank the coffee.
    â€œI’ve tried it on my wife,” he said, “with less success.” His eyes flicked from Robert to the jars teeming on the walls. Robert shifted in his seat. He didn’t know why he was there. The girl he had chased had gotten away behind the screen set by her father. He sipped the coffee and it was awful.
    â€œHave you tried that on your students?” Robert asked.
    â€œIn a general way. It’s a little too much like preaching, for my tastes,” Ben said. “I feel too much like a biological guru when I’m up there telling them how wonderful it is possible for them to be. And kids no longer come to see their teachers like they did.”
    He went on, “Years ago, when I began teaching, there were always students visiting at all hours. Here. At the house. They just liked to talk. Butter me up. Listen to my tales. Angle for a better grade. All of which was fine with me. I loved the company and the fact of their youth. It gave me a chance to show off.” He reached and tapped a jar where a snake pressed its scaled snout, its split tongue rising up the glass.
    â€œBut today’s kids don’t seem to have the time,” he said. “You’re the first one in a long time to seek me out.”
    â€œIt’s early, yet,” Robert said.
    â€œFor you, maybe. I’m here year-­round. I teach summer school. You can see my house across the lake. Students once dropped in at my house just to talk. To see me.” Ben sighed. “Maybe it’s me. Maybe I’m less accessible, or patient.” He sat up straight, a startling shift, and jabbed a finger at Robert.