Molly and I shared some rather embarrassed looks to each other as Patten began to lead the group out of his dining room. We did in fact have a television. It was how we had been able to follow the civil suit against Leona, now Leon, to get the Animatrix Serum on the market. The actual problem that we had was reception related. We had all the digital converter box things that they sold for non digital televisions, but we did not have cable or satellite television, neither did we subscribe to something like DirecTV. Because of this, we were left with the local channels that the local provider gave.
When Molly and I first moved into Bandhavgarh Cabin, we thought that going some something else would be too extravagant and ultimately something we couldn’t afford. There was also some private concerns that we didn’t need all the channels that things like cable or satellite provided. And so we didn’t open up any deal to buy any.
And that left us with the problem of timing. An incident in Florida involving the release of venomous snakes into a crowd of children would have made national news, and probably would have stayed there for a fair while on some level. However, regular channels FOX, ABC, NBC, CBS didn’t always a national level news program, and those that did, only had them on at one time in the day, and usually or half an hour.
And that is where conflicts with my schedule at least would come into play. My day started earlier then Molly’s and I got home well after she did. It was usually after the channels we had had finished their national level news program. So I commonly missed them anyway, as I was still at work. Molly got home earlier, but from her clutching suddenly at my paw when Clemens talked about this incident made me guess that on the days that the national level news program was focusing on his, she was either working on dinner and didn’t have it on or was using the bathroom… or whatever took her attention away from the television.
If we had cable, we could have followed this on something like CNN we could have followed some of it when we had the time as CNN covers the news twenty four hours a day. But we didn’t, and as a result we missed any mention of the incident… as local Montana reporters did not seem fit to find a major incident in Florida worthy of report or research.
As for telling Clemens that we didn’t own a television, I mostly did out of embarrassment. From the way he lead into the incident, it was clearly troubling and shocking. I was too embarrassed to admit that we had somehow managed to miss seeing the report. So I settled for a white-lie. It made me feel rotten to the core, and I mentally kicked myself for doing so… but there was nothing that could be done about that now. I felt slightly relieved though that Molly didn’t correct me.
And the story Clemens told was shocking and horrific. It was a clear sign that racial prejudices, now aimed at animal-people, had not disappeared. And as many of the other incidents that I had been involved in in crushing R.A.M. or confronting its holdouts, death and violence seemed to accompany it. The Smiths didn’t kill anyone that could get them charged with murder, though not for lack of trying, but they had shot up their cow far too much… all to make it look like Molly or I had come and attacked it. The next incident was Beauregard’s gang killing the officers at Leona’s lab in Peoria, which ultimately led to Beauregard’s arrest and Officer Barnes being wounded. Next came infighting between R.A.M. members with MacClure murdering someone who had probably been in R.A.M. because he was Beauregard’s friend. The last case was a desperate fanatic in Bill Williams, whose actions killed one Federal Officer, two CFPD Officers, and one school secretary, and wounded one CFPD Officer, two kids, and the principal that replaced Williams.
In these cases it could probably be stated as a sort of progression of violence. The group tries one thing that is initially non-violent, but then it fails. They then progress into more and more violent acts trying to get their desired outcome. But from what Clemens had said, the incident in Florida didn’t have that issue of progression. The racists down there turned to violent actions first, and their target to spark it was actually a class of children. They deliberately tried to hurt kids to get a mob to attack an innocent person, and nearly succeeded in getting the ultimate target killed. And while Clemens did escape death… the fact that two children didn’t seemed to make it worse.
“I am sorry you had to go through that,” I spoke to Clemens.
“There issssssssssssss nothing you could have done,” Clemens sighed, “I only hope I can make thingssssssssssssssss up to parentssssssssssss…”
“You seem like a very smart guy,” Molly then spoke, “I’m sure you can do it.”
“Thank you.”
I then looked up to see that Patten had lead us into kitchen and he was checking on whatever serving of seconds that he had cooking. It included a small table by a set of windows, which I guessed was the one Patten ate at most of the time, as he didn’t always need a big dinning room… but he could use it for other things. As Patten finished, he turned to face us again.
“This is obviously the kitchen,” Patten said politely, “it isn’t much, but it does well…”
He then motioned to a door behind me, “that door there leads to my basement, which I use as a sort of work out and exercise room…”
“You work out?” Molly asked.
“Nothing much with weights, really,” Patten answered, “most of it is a cardiovascular workout… though I also do have an old punching bag down there…”
“You box?” I asked in a surprised tone.
“I did a little in college,” Patten admitted, “though I was never real good at it, and after one match… well… let’s just say I didn’t do that well. The coach I had eventually then asked me why a smart guy like myself was getting the stuffing beat out of him… and I was mostly using it to blow off steam… and its then that I realized that actually being in matches wasn’t necessary.”
“You just punch the punching bag to relieve stress?” Molly asked.
“I do now,” Patten nodded, “it’s certainly better then actually boxing and getting my brains beat out… proverbially speaking.”
Molly and I nodded. It sounded very much like our reasoning behind moving to Columbia Falls or a place like it. A place where Molly would have a chance of a territory where she wouldn’t be crowded by a lot of people. I didn’t say anything out loud about that as it would be a sort of distraction and would lead off topic.
“So what lead you into teaching?” I asked.
“My cousssssssssssssssin hassssssssssss alwaysssssssssssssssss resssssssssssssspected thosssssssse of the teaching professssssssssssssssssion,” Clemens answered, “we grew up together and that was about all my dear cousssssssssssssssin looked to.”
“And that is what I did,” Patten nodded, “I studied education, psychology, and a lot of other things and was determined to make sure wherever I taught would be the best educated area there could be. And by sheer luck, I got a position at the Elementary School here.”
He lead us past a set of bedrooms and a bathroom.
“And of course things are never easy,” Patten sighed, “Beauregard has stuck his nose into school matters when it came into conflict with his land and stuff like that. A few years ago, the school wanted to build a separate building for Pre-K and Kindergarten classes, and the proposed site included portions of Beauregard’s ranch. He organized such a fight that the school moved them back into the old and falling apart building we wanted to get them out of.. Eventually we managed to get an arrangement to build a small addition to the Elementary which is where you are teaching now, Molly.”
“It looks nice,” Molly spoke, likely referring to the portion of the school where her classroom was.
“All the same… it showed me that there were just some people who put profit before education,” Patten spoke, “and convinced me I needed to do more to protect the kids in the district here… to give them a chance at something more then what some people think education is worth financially.”
We then stopped in the entranceway to a small living room. Behind us and to the left was an office area, which included what was likely the diploma that Patten received from his college. Looking around the living room, I found it to be rather small. It had a small TV on a stand with a couple of bookshelves next to it. There was also a couch and a could of chairs with reading lamps and one modest entertainment center.
“You have a very nice home,” Molly told him, “The walls could be taller… but that is a complaint that George and I have of most places now.”
Patten nodded. I could almost here him chuckle at Molly’s joke in reference to our height.
“I’m sure,” Patten chuckled, “hopefully you two spend enough time outside that the time you spend inside doesn’t do damage to your spines.”
“We try,” Molly nodded.
Patten nodded and then checked his watch.
“Well, the rest of the dinner should be just about ready,” Patten then spoke, “It is no where near as big as the first course as it were, but it should be enough to fill the quotas that the three of you need to fill.”
“You have our thanks for going through all of this for Molly and I,” I told him politely.
I felt especially thankful to him for doing that. The fact that Patten and I had started as real antagonists had lead me to think that he wouldn’t make the effort for me. Maybe for Molly, but not for me. The fact that we had managed to sit at the same table and eat a dinner in a civilized manner was only additional confirmation of much of what I had learned about Joseph Patten. Patten was a good man how did his best to try and do the right thing. He was not like the other lunatics that had given Molly grief or fought me when it came to arresting them.
Of course, Patten would probably never be as close a friend in Columbia Falls as Dave was, but we could probably get along enough to tolerate one another.
“It is no major problem,” Patten spoke. I got the sensation that he wanted to say more, but didn’t want to start anything in front of his cousin.
“Did you grow up here, or…?” I asked after a moment, deciding to change the subject so not to give Patten something to have to explain to Clemens.
“No,” Patten shook his head, “we’re actually a block or so from where my parents live… Clemens’ Uncle and Aunt.”
“I’m sure they’re proud of you,” Molly told him, “George’s parents are proud of us that we have each other… George was able to get his post with the police here… I’m teaching… the biggest issue is that they’re wanting George and I to have cubs soon…”
“You don’t want to have cubsssssss?” Clemens wondered.
“Quite the contrary,” I answered, “but we’ve found that Molly is only in heat in the winter.”
“Most big cats are receptive at almost any time,” Patten commented.
“Yes, but among mundane Bengal Tigers, mating season is typically in the winter months,” I sighed, “most times when a mundane tigress has come into season outside of those winter month has usually come after the cub has been killed. There are a host of other animals in India alone that wouldn’t hesitate to kill a tiger cub, for food or defensive purposes… but more often then not, the real killer of these cubs is usually an unrelated male tiger… which has killed the cubs to bring the tigress back into heat and insure that is his genes the cubs carry.”
“George won’t be doing that though,” Molly added, “there are times when I think he wants cubs more then I do.”
“From what I’ve learned, a lot of it on his part is to make you happy,” Patten commented, “he and I may have our differences… but I would think we can get a long.”
“Which issssssssssssssss good,” Clemens spoke up, “everyone ssssssssssssssssssssssssssshould get along.”
Patten, Molly, and I all nodded to that.
“Anyway,” Patten then sighed, “the second course should be about ready. We should get going before it becomes overdone.”
“Of course,” Molly nodded and allowed Clemens to move ahead of us to head back to the dinning room.
As we headed there, Patten continued on to the kitchen while we followed Clemens back into the dinning room. He had eaten a fair amount at dinner, which peaked some of my own curiosity about him. Clemens had eaten a fair amount during the first course. Not as much as Molly and I, but still more then what most humans ate. Now, this wasn’t entirely unsurprising. Large snakes like pythons could eat a lot. Molly and I had seen a program on PBS following wildlife in Africa which did show an African Rock Python swallowing a female Impala whole, which the program said would feed that snake for days. But that snake was cold blooded and wouldn’t burn through calories as quickly as a mammal would.
And as we sat down, my curiosity got the better of me.
“You’ll have to forgive me, but would you be offended if I asked you a more personal question?” I asked.
“No,” Clemens shrugged, “in fact, I’d probably be more open to a lot of quesssssssssssssstionssssssssssssss that some people might assssssssssssssssssssk me.”
“Are you hot blooded or cold blooded?” I asked, “most of the animal people that Molly and I have met or seen transform have become mammals. One of the women I studied with at the police academy in Montana has a brother that was taken by Changes…”
“A Thompson’s Gazelle,” Molly spoke.
“…one of the receptionists at the company that manufactures the Animatrix Serum now has become a Brown Rat… and of the variety that they sell as pets, not the wild version…”
Clemens nodded.
“And Leon and Jacki are African Lions,” I finished, “and as I said before, they are all mammals, so the question as to whether or not that they are hot blooded or cold blooded is not an issue. They are mammals and are hot blooded.”
“I had thought the creator of the Animatrixxxxxxxxxxxx Sssssssssssserum was female… Lena.”
“She found a way to get the drug to alter one’s gender rather then just one’s species,” Molly answered, “she needed to take it because when she originally became a lioness, either she or Changes had gotten the exact DNA wrong and used a male lion rather then a lioness… leaving her confused a bit on the instinctual level. She took the gender changing serum before her wedding to fix the problem… as such Leona Washburn is now Leon Washburn. Her husband to be took the serum as well to fit the changes Leon went through… and is now Jacki Washburn, Leon’s wife.”
Clemens nodded again, “I ssssssssssssssssee… and your question isssssssssssss not that uncommon with me. Many have assssssssssssssked me if I am hot blooded or cold blooded… and much like the woman at the debate… have wondered why my sssssssssssssscalessssssssssssss aren’t ssssssssssslimy.”
I nodded.
“Anyway, I am ssssssssssort of in-between now,” Clemens explained, “not truly warm blooded and not truly cold blooded either. I have noticcccccccccccced that my temperature will fluctuate with the temperature of the air around me, but not as much as a mundane reptile would.”
He then brought one hand up and moved it like a wave motion on a graph. It had high peaks and low valleys.
“Think of thissssssssssss like a mundane reptile,” Clemens continued, “itssssssss body fluctuatesssssssssssss heavily with the air around it.”
He then altered the motion of the wave he was illustrating with his hand. The peaks were now much lower and in fact didn’t go too far from what would be the “center” of the graph line.
“Thissssssssss isssssssssss more like mysssssssssself now,” Clemens answered, “I retain sssssssssome heat even in colder areassssssssss. And thissssssssssss isssssssssssss not impossssssssssssible to ssssssssssssssssssee in sssssssssssssssome mundane reptilesssssssssss. Ssssssssssssome ressssssssssearcherssssssssss have found that sssssssssssssssome sssssssssssea turtlessssssssssss are thisssssssssss way becausssssssssssssse of their sssssssssizzzzzze. They alssssssssssso think large crocodilliansssssssssssss and sssssssssssssome dinosssssssssssssaurssssssssssssss are the sssssssssssssssssame as well. For paleontologisssssstsssssssss, they think this helpsssssssssssss lead into the theory that many dinossssssssssaursssssssssss were warm blooded… but that would be off the topic of your quesssssssssstion.”
“They didn’t test a crocodile?” Molly wondered.
“Would you ssssssssstick a tongue thermometer in the mouth of a Sssssssssssaltwater Crocodile every hour?” Clemens questioned.
“No.”
“The ressssssssssearcherssssssssssssss neither,” Clemens chuckled, “large sssssssssssssea turtlessssssssss were the replaccccccccccccement as they wouldn’t try to eat the resssssssssssearchers.”
And by that time, Patten returned with what was the second course for Clemens, Molly, and I. He had a small plate of apple pie for himself, and while it smelled good, I knew that dietary wise, Molly and I couldn’t eat it.