“And who is that out there, in the reception area?” Professor Lilt asked, frowning at the open doorway behind the tall young student.

“My friend Mack. He’s just gonna wait in the outer office.”

“I see,” she said, frowning even deeper now but turning her attention back to Declan.

“I was thinking of doing my research paper on the rural farming society and its relationship with the government,” he said.

“Which government?”

“Ah, the, a, Federal government?” he suggested.

“Which country?”

“I was thinking this one. Why? Should I look at one in Europe?”

“Well, farmers are under a lot of economic pressure these days, both here and abroad. And don’t confine your thoughts to just Europe. South and Central America, Africa, and Asia might all provide interesting fodder for your project,” she said, turning a copper bracelet on one wrist with her other hand.

“Well, I was thinking domestic, but you bring up an excellent point. Maybe a comparison to include the US and some other countries? What if I do some preliminary research and then send you an email with my final selections?” he said, his eyes drawn to the bracelet. It was, without a doubt, the most interesting fashion piece that she wore, intricately woven of copper wire in odd designs. The piece was pretty unisex and he was intrigued by it.

She noted his gaze and looked down at the jewelry piece. “You like this? My niece makes them. Selling them to raise money to support the Vermont Refugee Resettlement Program. You know, help those people who have had to flee their home countries and relocate here.”

“Ah, how much?” he asked, thinking of his mother and aunt arriving in the United States over twenty years ago.

“Fifteen dollars. Every penny goes to the program. I pay for the material myself, as my own donation. I can sell you this one, as I have a dozen more at home,” she suggested, pulling off the bracelet. She held it out toward him and he started to reach for it.

Bang! Something fell in the outer office, making a hell of a commotion.

“Sorry! It was an accident,” Mack yelled from the other room. “Nothing is broken… I think.”

“Damn, professor, I’m sorry about that,” Declan said, pulling back and turning toward the door. “He’s not usually clumsy; exact opposite, in fact. Let me double-check out there,” he said, stepping out of the tiny office and missing the look of intense anger and frustration that flashed across his professor’s face.

“Everything okay out here?” he asked, finding Mack trying to put a framed picture back on the wall.

“Yeah. Damned if I know how I could have bumped into it. Bad luck, I guess,” Mack said.