Sneak Peek: Start Reading San Benedicto by Bettina KlattFaistnauer

“Therefore, I believe Darwin’s theory of mate selection was wrongly rejected for no better reason than prevailing prejudices of the day related to the role of women…”

A scoff sounded from the back of the room.

Helen looked up from the podium, her hand stalled in mid-turn on her notes. The stale air of the university classroom weighed on her lungs. Her tongue dragged over parched lips as she attempted to refocus. A sea of mostly empty chairs stared back at her, dotted with reluctant male students coerced into attending by the promise of class credit. Their expressions ranged from bored indifference to barely concealed hostility.

She recognized the young man standing to leave, Eddie Finch, by the bombardier jacket he always wore. The garment, with its worn leather at elbows and collar, acted as a memorial to an older brother who never returned from the pacific.

Eddie tugged the leather jacket from the back of his seat, fuming on his way out the back door. He wasn’t the first to leave since she began her lecture a half hour ago. Four additional chairs previously held occupants who’d stormed out in similar fashion, each taking with him a scrap of her confidence.

Helen’s eyes darted to Professor James Carlton, sitting in a front corner seat. The white-bearded professor, her one academic ally, pursed his lips and raised an expectant brow.

She inhaled the familiar scent of chalk, wood polish, and well-thumbed books. The smell usually calmed her nerves, but today it failed to ease the pinch of her mandatory pumps or the scratch of her petticoat against her legs. How much more comfortable this would be in her khaki trousers and saddle shoes.

Her mother had railed at her most of her life about her tomboyish preferences, but masculine attire functioned best in the outdoor excursions she loved. These formal environs made her wish she’d adapted her preferences in a more balanced way.

“Modern minds are primed to rewrite this tradition of ignorance,” she continued, squaring her shoulders. “I propose facilitating this change through an expedition to San Benedicto Island, where I aim to prove that the inability of the rock wren, the island’s only land-bound bird, to migrate farther afield is due to these factors of preferential selection in mate choice by the female of the species alongside other factors rather than a quirk of Darwin’s better accepted theory of natural selection.”

She gazed across the room, taking in the skeptical faces.

“A monumental project such as this, can lead the way into a new era of thought and understanding. Thank you for your consideration.”

A singular applauding clap echoed from Professor Carlton’s corner, followed by a few grudging, half-hearted claps throughout the room. Helen stepped back from the podium, maintaining a hand on it to support her weak knees. Her heartbeat pounded through every pulse point and roared in her ears.

A heavy silence descended. Professor Carlton swept a glare across the attendees, who suddenly found the floor, their notebooks, or the windows fascinating. An agonizing heartbeat later, a tentative hand rose.

Helen released her breath. “Yes, Mr. Hamlin?”

The young man stood, eyes darting around the room as he searched for a question that would complete his assignment credit.

“Um, what, ah, what precipitated the choice of the San Benedicto rock wren over other species to prove your theory?” Hamlin looked to Professor Carlton, who nodded his approval. Relieved, Hamlin almost sank back into his chair before remembering he should probably wait for, and feign interest in, Helen’s answer.

“The isolation provides an ideal control scenario,” Helen replied, straightening. “And given the lack of other land birds, it’s been proposed that the wrens migrated from elsewhere, then lost their capability for long-distance flight. If this is the case, it provides an ideal scenario in which to test my theory.”

It also helped that San Benedicto, being an uninhabited volcanic island with no relative proximity to other, better known and appreciated study sites, made it potentially the easiest place for her to get permission to study.

Hamlin blinked vacant eyes, nodded in Helen’s general direction, and retook his seat. He immediately leaned toward his neighbor, whispering something that elicited a stifled snicker.

Another hand shot up. Helen suppressed a groan of irritation. Clenching her jaw, she plastered on a tight smile. “Mr. Johnson?”

Edward Johnson, a heritage student whose father contributed significantly to institutional funds and sat on several committees, rose to his feet. His pomade-slicked hair glistened in the early spring sunlight filtering through the windows, disturbing the gentle float of dust motes in the air. He wore an expensive tweed jacket with leather elbow patches that seemed designed to mimic the appearance of professors three times his age.

“Miss Reed,” he sneered, “As I’m sure you’re aware, expeditions require significant funding. The purpose of presenting your argument is to convince an audience of the relevancy of it. Given that you are proposing to chase after a theory steadfastly rejected for over eighty years, what additional rationale can you give to achieve that aim? Your current presentation, in my opinion, is lacking.”

Helen gnashed her teeth, every limb trembling as she dug her nails into the podium. Johnson had been a thorn in her side since their first class together, when he’d questioned why a woman would “waste a man’s spot” in a higher education program.

“It is not,” Professor Carlton interjected before Helen could formulate a response, “the purpose of this presentation to discuss funding, Mr. Johnson. If you believe Miss Reed should provide additional information in her proposal, kindly phrase your question accordingly.” A warning glance accompanied the instruction.

Johnson nodded in the professor’s direction, never diverting his glare from Helen. The muscles in his jaw worked. Helen could at least take comfort in her ability to get under his skin.

“Very well.” He acquiesced, puffing out his scrawny chest. “Miss Reed, given the physical rigors of an expedition to barren, rocky terrain, how do you plan to overcome these obstacles?”

Helen returned his glare. Johnson never missed an opportunity to further his opinion that women were unfit to lead field expeditions. The irony, which Helen reminded herself often, was that Johnson himself lacked any physical presence which might prevent his being blown over in a breeze. She doubted he’d ever so much as gone on a boyscout camping trip.

Helen, by contrast, had spent her childhood climbing trees and scrambling over rocky trails in search of new and noteworthy birds to inform her family of, not that the majority of them showed much interest. She reinforced her false smile, drawing on every ounce of patience she could muster.

“In the same manner as all dedicated naturalists,” she replied. “With determination and conviction.” She took particular joy in infusing her tone with a hint of sweetness, knowing it would grate Johnson more.

She shifted her attention to her Professor. To her surprise, Carlton looked suspiciously as though he were trying to suppress a smile. Johnson’s brows lowered like a bull’s horns preparing for the charge. Before he could respond, bells began to chime the hour in the nearby campus chapel. The sonorous tones drifted through the windows, announcing salvation from what promised to be an increasingly hostile exchange.

“Thank you, gentlemen,” Professor Carlton rose, plucking a pocket watch from his vest. “I look forward to seeing all of you in class Monday morning. Any final appreciative comments may be expressed to Miss Reed on your way out.”

Johnson exited directly, but the remaining attendees filed toward the podium. The first reached Helen, grasping her hand and tossing it up and down in a hasty shake before ducking out of the room. Hamlin followed, offering a “nice speech” without making eye contact.

The last spectator, a short man clutching books to his chest and shoving thick glasses up the bridge of his nose, paused more sincerely. His name, if Helen remembered correctly, was Peters. A quiet student who usually sat in the back of Carlton’s seminars taking copious notes.

“That was a great mock defense,” he nodded with enough enthusiasm to necessitate another shove of the glasses. “Your use of argument and persuasion was excellent, given the impossibility of the project. You’d do great in debate!” He joined the first student who had lingered near the door.

“We get the assignment credit for staying through the whole thing, right?” Helen heard as they disappeared through the doorway.

Had none of them taken even some of her presentation seriously? Helen wondered. Her shoulders slumped. The classroom felt vast and empty, the late afternoon light casting shadows across the polished floor.

“Chin up, Miss Reed.” Professor Carlton approached with a weary smile. “We expected this, remember? The purpose of this exercise was to get you comfortable with the process.”

The professor procured a soft cotton cloth from his pocket and removed his glasses, the imprint of nose pads remaining as he bowed his head to his task.

Helen nodded. Throughout her studies, Carlton had been her one steadfast and supportive pillar. Without his inexplicable support, she would have abandoned her dream of becoming an ornithologist a thousand times over.

“I’m beginning to wonder if there’s any point,” she admitted. “You’re the only one on the board willing to support my idea.”

“That’s true,” he agreed, his tone rekindling her anxiety. She looked up at him wide-eyed.

He sighed, replacing his glasses and adjusting them. “Miss Reed, as much as I hate to agree with Mr. Johnson, he raised valid points for your consideration. This presentation is not just to secure your position in the doctoral program. If accepted, you will be expected to make good on your proposal and carry out the research.”

A painful jab constricted Helen’s heart. “You don’t think that I can—”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” Professor Carlton cut off her statement with raised hands. “I believe you have the tenacity and ability to accomplish whatever you set out to. But it’s not me you have to convince.”

Helen let her chin drop before wandering to the windows. The professor was right, of course. Johnson reiterated themes she and Carlton had already argued over. Not only was she championing a long-rejected theory, her gender marked her as incapable in most eyes.

“You’re ignoring the fact that you didn’t heed any of my suggested revisions from our last meeting,” Carlton joined her, hands clasped behind his back. “To be blunt, Miss Reed, I’m not sure how you expect me to aid your cause when you don’t take my advice.”

“Your advice would have me completely change focus to Darwin’s theory of Natural selection and how it likely played out with populating the island with these wrens in the first place. That’s neither new nor thought-provoking. I’m sorry, Professor, but I don’t see how that adjustment would improve my chance of getting into the doctoral program.”

Carlton fell silent. Unwilling to face her mentor’s disappointment, Helen maintained her gaze on the window, gradually noticing the movements of birds amid the fresh green foliage in the trees outside.

How she envied their freedom. No committee evaluated their worthiness to inhabit the trees; no board questioned their right to be present.

Finches and sparrows bounced and bobbed along the branches, filling the air with their songs. A gentle breeze stirred the branches, carrying the scent of blooming dogwood through a window left ajar.

“Walk with me,” Carlton stated, his tone softer but not yet forgiving. “We need to chat, and I’ve got an article I thought you’d be interested in. It may spark a new approach to your cause.”

Turning, Helen studied her professor. His impeccable herringbone three-piece suit and never-wavering look of encouragement prompted her to nod. She knew he understood far better than her the workings of academic politics, but she saw no way of finding a middle ground on this point. Somewhat curious, more than a little disheartened, she followed him out of the classroom and down the hall.