III

Early one morning the executive vice president of expeditions…

Early one morning the executive vice president of expeditions was wandering the halls as he sometimes did before the Museum of Natural History opened to the public. The veep enjoyed the quiet prior to the hustle and bustle of his workday. While walking the halls he was somewhat startled to find another employee, a maintenance man, leaning on his broom and sipping a cup of Starbucks coffee, staring in wonder at the Brontosaurus.

Dr. Gregory Bukinberg, a man who himself had risen from the maintenance department to become one of the museum’s leaders, watched with interest as the enthralled janitor moved from one exhibit to another. The last exhibit in the aisle, the huge Deinocheirus discovered in the sixties by members of a Polish-Mongolian-American expedition, seemed to fascinate the maintenance man the most.

“Amazing, those long arms, are they not?” remarked Dr. Bukinberg, walking up to the maintenance man.

Linus Major, his mind miles away, jumped with surprise, then quickly pulled himself to attention. Linus recognized Dr. Bukinberg immediately and was terribly distraught to be caught with a cup of coffee in his hand. It was against museum rules to have food of any kind in the museum. Especially while on the job. He’d intended to throw the coffee away a few minutes ago, long before the museum opened, but his interest in the Deinocheirus had made him lose track of time.

“We can both get rid of our cups when we finish our coffee,” said the noted archaeologist in a quiet, clear voice, producing his cup from behind his back with a smile.

It was instant affection, at least as far as Linus was concerned.

Both men returned their attention to the extremely large arms of the Deinocheirus.

“These were the only bones found on that Polish-Mongolian expedition,” explained Dr. Bukinberg, a long, narrow man in a blue and white seersucker suit complete with matching vest and an extra-large green foulard bow tie with red polka dots wrapped around his skinny neck. Bukinberg was in the process of going bald. What hair he had was cut close to the sides of his head. Dr. Bukinberg wore rimless octagonal spectacles, which he used for reading. When he wasn’t reading, the glasses were held around his neck by a thin chain. The glasses rested on his chest that morning.

“I know they were the only bones found, sir,” said Linus Major. “I read a book on that expedition.”

“I wrote that book.”

“My gosh!”

“I was on the expedition. It was my first.”

“First book?” asked Linus.

“No. First expedition.”

“What an honor!”

“Yes, it was.”

“I guess you all must have been flabbergasted by your team’s discovery. I can only imagine how high the Deinocheirus stood if its front two arms were that large, sir,” said Linus Major, standing rigid, his broom handle by his side.