A Web of Lies

Chapter 3

Trevor jumped awake at the knock upon his car window. A kind, old face peered at him through the glass, brimming with excitement. Professor Weston waved at Trevor like an excited, school boy, bouncing with giddiness. He beckoned the grad student out of the car. Trevor didn’t know the old man’s arms could move that fast.

            Wiping the sleep from his eyes, Trevor stretched in what space he could inside the small Alpha Romeo, hitting his hands against the ceiling and yawning widely enough to swallow a blimp. A dazed awareness came over the young man as the professor rapped against the window again.

            “Come on, boy!” What are you waiting for? Come and see what’s here!” the high but elderly voice came through the car in a muffle, but whether Trevor understood the words or not, he certainly got the message. Dr. Weston pulled frantically on the door handle making his intentions blatantly obvious.

            “Yes, Doctor. I’m coming.” Trevor said through another yawn. He fumbled around in the spare quid and pence coins looking for keys when he realized they were still in the ignition. He had intended to go home last night but completely passed out the moment he got in his car.

            Trevor rubbed his eyes again and unlocked the door, climbing out into the brisk, Welsh morning. He had just pushed the door closed when he realized his keys were still in the car. Thankfully, even in his tired state, his reflexes were fast enough for him to catch the edge. Sadly, the door was too heavy to stop completely, and his fingers received a rude wake up call.

            Trevor stifled his gasp of pain, grimacing as he pulled the keys from the car. He shoved the keys in his pocket, along with his hands, then nudged the car door closed with a knee. He bunched up his shoulders against the morning’s chill, and followed the professor, who was already around the corner of the museum, nearly skipping with delight.

            As Trevor fumbled his fingers around in his pockets, he detected something else. It was small, somewhat round, and silky. He delicately removed the object and found a very fine, minuscule top hat between his fingers.           

            “Hu.” He said to himself. Today was just one surprise after another.

            The box frame of the large moving truck came into view around the side, and already a crowd was forming to eventually help unload.           

            He now understood why the professor was so excited.           

            “That’s today?” Trevor exclaimed. He picked up the pace.

            Several months ago, Dr. Weston had lead an excursion to a remote part of South Africa to look for evidence to support a theory Weston devised after going to a symposium on flash fossil formation. The professor had indeed found his evidence in a plethora of fossils he discovered on a dig of an ancient river bed.

            So jubilant was he at his discovery that he gathered up as many samples as he could and booked a trip straight back to Whales, without even thinking of the proper customs procedures. After an argument with airport security, a 24-hour holding period, and a confrontational confiscation of the fossils, he was sent back with a notice telling him his fossils would be returned to him after they had been cataloged as appropriate for export.

            Needless to say, the professor was livid for a week. But now his joy could not be contained. He was literally skipping around the track, whistling some old folk tune no one but he was old enough to know. So bizarre was the sight, Trevor thought the old man was attached to wires, being pulled around like a marionette. The only time anyone had seen the professor anywhere near this bubbly was when Dr. Codsworth got the burnt steak at the faculty appreciation dinner.