"Preserved"

 

Outside the labs, all along the hallways on the second floor of the science building, display cases stood silently, like sentinels. Most of them contained skeletons; a few held geodes. One was devoted to a collection of expertly preserved snakes. Jeri stopped in front of a case that offered a glimpse into prehistoric plant life through the fossils on its shelves and pondered what it meant that something that had survived the onslaught of so many years had ended up on display at a community college in the suburbs.

In the reflection of the glass, Jeri saw her instructor slowly approach. "You okay?" Ms. DuBois asked her.

Jeri heard her laugh cut the air open. "About what? The fact that I'm going to fail this lab? Not really," she said.

"No failure here," Ms. DuBois said. She folded her arms across her chest and moved to Jeri's side. "Dissection is hard on a lot of people, even the ones who look forward to it. I had a lab partner in college once, the second we made our incision into the abdomen, just threw up right there, right in the opening." Jeri raised her eyebrows and turned to see her instructor smile. "Look, take your time," Ms. DuBois told her, "but come on back. And my advice? Honestly?" Her smile was almost ghostly in the glass. "Ask your group to be the one to use the knife."

Jeri remained under the quiet watch of the display case a little while longer after Ms. DuBois returned to the lab. She took another peek at the fossils inside, split wide, their stories released into the air like souls and revealed to everyone despite what protection the case could lend, before drawing in her breath and heading back to continue with the dissection.

Her group had named the cadaver William.