things never change, doctor manichee repeated. take me, for example. when you look at me, what do you see?
why, daniel replied carefully, you seem to be a scientist of some sort. or a medical man engaged in research.
very good. i am indeed a scientist, but what kind of a scientist, exactly, eh? what kind of a scientist do you think an an ordinary citizen, the so-called man in the street, would take me for?
well, sir, daniel answered, since you are doing your business in the basement of an abandoned building in the woods, they would probably think you were a mad scientist.
ha ha, very good, very good. i see you have a head on your broad shoulders, young fellow, and a brain inside that head. now tell me, what do mad scientists do , eh? what are they about?
daniel felt pretty sure he knew what answer the doctor wanted, so he replied politely, they make monsters.
exactly! they - we - seek to create life - what the man in the street calls monsters. now do you realize
what i meant when i said things never change?
not exactly, sir.
because so called mad scientists like myself have been engaged in this great enterprise since the dawn of time!
daniel replied diplomatically, i am sure you are making great progress, sir. employing one of his favorite phrases from the debating team, he added, rome wasn’t built in a day.
just as the thin man reached this point in his narrative, he and yeti reached the end of the road they had been walking down and reached the broad highway.
despite the lateness of the hour, big rigs, and a few smaller vehicles, were rolling along.
a light rain began to fall.
“maybe someone will give us a lift,” yeti said hopefully.
“a bus would be our best bet.” the skinny man replied. “as for myself, i no longer solicit or accept rides from strangers. you, however, may do as you please. “
“i am afraid i do not have any money for bus fare,” yeti observed.
“nor do i,” the skinny man, “but i would flag one down all the same, and throw myself on the mercy of the driver. or, one of the passengers might take pity on me, and pay my fare. you never know. hope springs eternal, and all that. look how hopeless our own case was, just an hour ago.”
yeti thought this view a bit optimistic. aloud he said, “at least we are out of the truck, and free as birds.”
“oh, yes, the birds. the beautiful, free birds.”
they began walking along the side of the road. the skinny man seemed to have forgotten, or lost interest, in his story, and yeti did not press him to continue it.
the rain continued to come down, not heavily, but after ten minutes of trudging they were both pretty wet.
finally a pickup truck came up beside them and stopped. the driver leaned across and rolled down his window.
“give you fellows a lift?” he asked. his features could not be made out in the darkness. he had thick glasses, and a farmerish drawl.
“no thank you,’ the skinny man replied. “i am enjoying my evening stroll. i can not speak for my companion here.”
“i would gratefully accept your offer,” yeti quickly said.
“then hop in.”
the skinny man watched as the pickup disappeared into the rain and fog.
he shook his head. “when will they ever learn?”
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