Callahan: A Gothic Tale

Sage and Stinging Nettle

14 Sage and Stinging Nettle

"Meet me in the middle of your story when the soul is worn but wise." -Angie Weiland-Crosby

8 am, Autumn 1994, Biochemistry Lab, Next to Office

You replaced my daughter.

The thought lingered in her mind as Dr. Cora Callahan surveyed the blanched, macrobiotically-clean open-air workspaces, sunlight spilling through windows in planked form, creating illusory ladder-like shadows upon the glossy linoleum. Rotating faux leather stools, 1980s-style cobalt-handled plasticine desk drawers, upper shelves whose angled interiors offered a secondary fluorescent light source.

She sighed; she knew much of their equipment required updating, but funding was lower than usual this year, and they were already a couple years behind other colleges in their genomic sequencing processes. Bringing in her daughter's frenemy wasn't what she initially had in mind, but at this point, she was willing to try anything. And hey, two birds, one stone, as the adage went...right?

8:01 am, Autumn 1994, Biochemistry Lab

Cora heard a flurry of movement behind her. "You're late—"

"Sorry," panted Macy, rushing forward carrying a medium-large purse containing her postdoctoral notes, a makeshift lunch (and ice brick)...and several bundles of sage, per Harry's instruction. "Only by a minute?" she offered. "I got lost—"

"Not an excuse," replied Cora brusquely. "I expect all scientists to arrive promptly at 8 am. And as the saying goes, if you're on time, you're late. And if you're early, you're on time."

"Er, right—" Macy stared at the workbenches before her, taking stock of just how antiquated the early 1990s had been compared to the 2000s. Or was it just Callahan College?

"I hope you can acclimate to our laboratory? It's just one compact room, but as Shakespeare's Helena once said, 'though she be but little...'"

"...She is fierce." Macy bit back a smile as she set her bag down beside one of the rotating stools. Her classics education at boarding school was beginning to pay off in weird unforeseen ways. "So, uh," she looked around, noticing a lack of other scientists, lab assistants, contractors, and the like. "Where's everyone else?"

"It's fall break—and Dima's in Ukraine so you won't meet him till later—assuming he decides to come back," she gave a sardonic smile which made Macy somewhat nervous; it was impossible to know what to expect from this aged woman. "That won't be a problem, will it?" Cora peered down her glasses at Macy.

"N-no," Macy stammered, before clearing her throat. "I mean, Dr. Callahan, I'm used to independent study. This is...definitely doable."

"Good. Your first assignment is to brew me a ferrous cement potion by close of business today."

"A ferrous—?" Macy pored through her mental rolodex of Latinate terms. "As in...iron?" The woman nodded.

"It seems a lamppost has been uprooted recently, chipping the nose off a certain marble statue in the courtyard, bearing Charity Callahan's likeness. Wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

Shit, busted. "Errr...." Macy avoided the woman's pointed gaze, choosing instead to rummage through her purse.

Cora turned to leave. "Whatever—just have it on my desk by 4. Consider this a test."

3 pm, Autumn 1994, Biochemistry Lab

Wiping the perspiration dotted across her brow, Macy glanced at the sticky viscous substance canistered before her.