Alligator Park by R. J. Blacks

always hungry,” he
replies.
    “Look what I brought you,” I
say, opening the Styrofoam tray. Will examines the contents, breaks into a
smile.
    “I love Lasagna. How did you
know?”
    I don’t know quite how to
answer that so I just fake it.
    “Everyone loves Sid’s Lasagna.”
    “Oh, it’s from Sid’s.”
    I hand Will a plastic knife and
fork and he doesn’t waste a second. He digs right in, giving the impression he
hasn’t eaten in days. But I guess a warm meal on a cold day is enough to
stimulate any appetite. Will takes out his Thermos, pours himself a cup of
coffee. He puts his coffee cup aside, retrieves a paper cup from his bag, fills
it, and then hands it to me. I hesitate; he reads my body language.
    “It’s new. Wouldn’t give you
a dirty cup.”
    I feel my face getting red,
embarrassed that I questioned his integrity. But he is so wrapped up in his
meal, I know he doesn’t care or even notice. Will chomps down the breadsticks
then finishes up the last slice of Lasagna. He tosses the empty container in
the trash.
    “That really hit the spot. How
are you making out?”
    “Not good,” I say.
    “What’s wrong?”
    “I’m between a rock and a
hard place. There’s nothing for me here, but there’s nothing for me anywhere
else either. I don’t know what to do.”
    “My commander always used to
say, ‘When you hit a brick wall, blast through it.’”
    “Good advice for a soldier. But
what about me?”
    “He also used to say, ‘If
you’re out of options, make some.’”
    “There’s no use. There’s
nothing I can do.”
    “There’s never nothing you
cannot do.”
    Will thinks for a moment.
    “The other day, you told me
the dean said your report was lacking proof. Said it was based entirely on
speculation. Am I right?”
    “I presented papers
supporting my theories,” I say, defending myself. “That’s legitimate science.”
    “It may well be,” he says.
“But it’s not the same as proof. Those scientific reports were created by
another scientist for different purposes. The evidence you attempted to use was
just coincidental. Hardly convincing to a hostile audience.” 
    I’m amazed at his depth of understanding.
He rolled it off his tongue so fluidly, I had to believe it was something he
picked up in the military.
    “What do you suggest?” I ask,
desperately seeking a solution.
    “You need to get your own
proof. Then you would have solid evidence that no one could discredit. They
would have no choice but to believe you. If they tried to smear you, it would be
them that look foolish.”
    “What you say is correct. But
I would need samples, and a laboratory to analyze them in. That’s all been
taken away from me.”
    “If you’re out of options,
make some,” he says.
    “Where would I get samples
around here? I’d have to be near farmland. There’s no farmland around here. And
even if there was, it would all be frozen. I couldn’t do a thing for at least
six months.”
    “Who says it has to be around
here?”
    “Sure, I could do a field
trip. But an extended field trip, one that could take a year or more, requires
funds. That’s what university grants are for. Who’s going to give me a grant?”
    “So you move, to where the
evidence is.”
    “You mean relocate?”
    “Didn’t you say there was a
professor in Florida? You used her paper or something? I remember you telling
me that.”
    “Yes, Jessica Parker.”
     “For what you need to do, Florida’s
perfect this time of year.”
    “It may be. But I still need
resources.”
    “If she’s a professor, then
she has resources. Give her a call, you never know.” 
    Suddenly the task didn’t seem
as formidable. Will was right; there are other options out there. I just have
to find them.
    “Will, you’re a genius.”
    He cracks a smile and I
detect a slight blush.
    “I wouldn’t say that. But I have
learned how to survive in this mixed up crazy world. I’ve had to do that all my
life. You either learn...