Christine sat at her desk, poised, ready for class. To her amazement, she loved high school biology. Stories and art had always fulfilled her but now she found herself craving more from the scrapbooks and specimens crowding her space. Scrapbooks filled with ferns, flowers and pine tree needles covered her desk. Shells and marine animals, collected on field trips filled boxes on the window sill. She had lived in California for only a few months and the wonders of the wild Pacific Coast were new to her. On her first field trip to the beach, she was mesmerized by the richness of life in the tide pools. She saw hermit crabs clacking around in their borrowed shell houses, twelve limbed starfish and tube worms. Watching as colourful anemones opened and closed their pink and green flower like petals, was also opening her to a deeper understanding of nature. With her dog Rascal, trotting at her heels, and her blue parakeet riding on her shoulder, she was exploring the new world that was now her home.
In the second semester, the biology class dived into dissections of plants and animals including mice, worms, frogs, and a large turtle. At first Christine was thrilled with the excitement of looking inside a living animal. She opened a large earth worm, pinned it to the board and studied the inner organs. Next class, she selected a frog for her work. The procedure was to stick a needle into the frog’s brain, scraping away tissue so that it would feel no pain and remain alive for dissection. She could watch the heart beating and the lungs inflating. When the time came for her to insert the needle, her fingers began to tremble, she wiped away dampness forming at her hairline and she squeezed her eyes shut. When she opened them, the teacher, Mr. Alan, was standing beside her. He said nothing, only nodded and took the needle from her hand and scraped out the brain tissue for her. After this, Christine knew she couldn’t continue with the dissections. She became a watcher of what others did in class. She killed no more animals.
Day after day, she looked at the large turtle in the aquarium. He was beautiful with a dark green shell, yellow markings on the neck and powerful feet with strong claws. The teacher intended to open his shell and expose the inner organs for study when the time came. Christine tried to convince herself the turtle was just a science experiment but all her life she had saved animals, not hurt them. A discomfort inside her was pushing its way to the surface. She had to speak out. After school one afternoon, cheeks burning and voice stammering, she approached Mr. Alan the teacher. “Please, do you think we could spare the turtle?” she asked. “I could give him a home. I’ve looked after lots of turtles before.” Mr, Alan was thoughtful, though non committal. He stood quietly, taking her in with his gentle eyes. “We’ll see but I can’t make any promises.” Classes continued. Summer break was approaching and still no word on the fate of the turtle. Then just before summer vacation, Mr. Alan said ” We are running out of time. There won’t be time to dissect the turtle. Christine has offered to take him home.” With a smile, he handed the turtle to her.
